Rusty by G. A. Watson - HTML preview

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Chapter 21

I immediately rang Jane. There was no answer from the home phone so I rang her on her mobile. That too went to the answer service. I left a brief message: “Seb is married. Any chance we can meet?”

It was after lunch before she rang. They had been shopping for a new bed and she hadn’t heard the phone. They could both pop round for an hour or so later that afternoon, but they couldn’t stay long as they had tickets to the theatre for the evening.

Simon amused himself watching sport on the TV while Jane sorted me out emotionally. I had two choices, she said: either I could confront him and hear his explanation before dumping him, or I could send a text immediately, dumping him and telling him I never wanted to see him again. I chose the latter option. He had been such a convincing liar that I honestly believed he would try and convince me I was wrong about him, if we met.

Lois called to see me this morning and told me about Louisa and Ellen and the girl you got pregnant in Hull. You are a dirty liar and I never want to see or hear from you again.

It didn’t make me feel better, sending it, but I knew I never had any other option.

When Jane and Simon left, I felt sorry for myself again. Granny Wise would be disappointed in me. Why was I so gullible? Did I have a sign on my forehead that said “Will believe anything you say?”

Seb’s text arrived just as the six o’clock news was starting. “We’ll go to the pub after choir practice on Wednesday as usual. Will explain all.” was all it said.

I hadn’t thought about choir practice. I had assumed he would accept I never wanted to see him again and leave me alone. There was no way I would allow myself to be alone with him. Even the thought of being in the same room as him was disturbing. Reluctantly, I accepted I would have to give up my singing as it seemed he was determined to keep going to practices.

When I didn’t turn up on the Wednesday, he tried calling me. Seeing his name on my screen, I cancelled the call. The phone rang again. And again. And again. He must have called at least ten times before my patience snapped.

“I have nothing to say to you other than if you call again, I will inform the police that you are harassing me.” I ended the call before he could reply. There was one further attempt at a call from him before he gave up.

When he hadn’t tried calling again for more than a week, I began to relax. It would be a long time before I had another relationship. When I did, I was determined to heed Granny’s advice and judge the man by how he reacted when I refused to go to bed with him. My next relationship, if I had one, would be different, I promised myself.