There Is a Light That Never Goes Out: A feel-good summery romance with charming and loveable characters by David M. Barnett

Author:David M. Barnett [Barnett, David M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781398711303
Publisher: Orion
Published: 2023-06-07T18:30:00+00:00

Year Five

26

Gayle

March

‘And you believed him.’ It’s not a question. It’s a statement of Donna’s utter certainty that I am a complete idiot.

‘Doxycycline is used to treat a variety of infections,’ I parrot hollowly. ‘Tom picked up a bit of a chest infection. He’s prone to it and he spends a lot of time in dusty old properties … you know …’ I tail off, hating how I sound.

It’s already March and it’s taken me so long to pluck up the courage to tell Donna about the tablets in Tom’s cabinet. Mainly because I’ve already decided he’s telling the truth, even if I don’t really believe it. But Rachael has gone, off to work in London, and … well. Let sleeping dogs lie, and all that. Sleeping, lying, shagging dogs.

Donna says, ‘Where is he, anyway?’

I go to get us another coffee from the pot on the stove. ‘He’s looking at some old farmhouses in Derbyshire. He’ll be back today.’

As I put the mugs in front of us, Donna grabs my hand. ‘And you’re OK? You’re sure you’re OK?’

I am OK. Though I wasn’t for a while. For a long time, after losing the baby. I wasn’t what I’d call sad. Or angry. Or upset, even. I was just … numb. And didn’t want to go anywhere, or see anyone. Especially not Tom’s friends. More than anything, I felt like a failure. It’s meant to be the most natural thing in the world, right? To grow a baby inside you. And I couldn’t even manage it. It’s doubtful I’ll manage it ever. Even when Tom had thrown himself on my mercy and begged me not to believe he was having an affair (though I wouldn’t dignify what I think he was doing by calling it an affair … it was sex) and I’d eventually capitulated and told him I accepted what he’d said, more from exhaustion than anything, I wasn’t really upset at losing the baby.

In a weird, shameful, secret way, I was almost relieved.

As ever, Donna puts my whirling, spiky, knotted ball of wire wool thoughts into one succinct sentence, as if reading my mind.

‘To be honest, I never thought you were bothered about babies. I never heard you talking about them.’

I burst into tears, not because of what happened last year, but because I’ve got Donna, who understands me so well, and I feel awful that I’ve barely seen her since it all happened.

‘Stop blubbing,’ says Donna mildly. ‘It’s not all about you. Ask me if I’ve got any news.’

I laugh through my tears and dry them on the piece of kitchen towel she thoughtfully gets for me. ‘Have you got any news?’

‘Actually, yes,’ says Donna. ‘I’ve got a new job. At the BBC.’

‘What? This is huge! Are you going to be on the TV?’

‘Don’t be an idiot,’ says Donna. ‘They don’t put women with pink hair, a proclivity to spots, and pierced labia on the teatime news. They don’t want to frighten the horses. I’ll be working as an editor.

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