Chapter 14

14

Megan poured herself another cup of tea from the small white teapot on the table before looking back at her mobile. She'd been researching about difficult divorces for the past half hour but she was none the wiser, not really.

Loud, raucous laughter sounded from behind her, and she glanced around. A group of women were chatting over their plates of Full English breakfasts, passing a phone around the table. Megan was sure she'd seen them leave the bed and breakfast when she'd come back yesterday. They'd been dressed up in tiaras and bright pink sashes, and the tall one had been wearing an equally bright pink T-shirt announcing she was the ‘Bride-to-Be'.

Megan had heard them arrive back in the early hours, too. Yet after such a late night, they all appeared anything but hungover, all happy and ready for another day of celebrating, no doubt. Megan sighed. Hopefully, the girl would enjoy a long and happy marriage, which didn't end up in a divorce like hers.

She checked the time. It was gone nine now. She should be at Wagging Tails already. Not that Flora would mind what time she arrived, but she'd enjoyed having a schedule, enjoyed having a reason to get up and begin the day. Today, though, all she could think about was running into Jay again. She knew she couldn't avoid him forever, not if she wanted to continue to volunteer at Wagging Tails, which she did. But the mere thought of seeing him again reminded her how disappointed he'd looked when she'd spoken to him yesterday.

She put her phone down and picked up her teacup. After downing the now-tepid drink, she stood up. There was no time like the present.

‘Have you finished?' The manager of the bed and breakfast, Tracey, walked over to her.

‘Yes, thank you. It was lovely, as always.' Megan smiled. She'd pop back to the room, grab her bag and get going before she put it off any longer.

‘Sorry, Megan. Can I have a quick word please?' Tracey's voice was low, her tone serious.

‘Oh sorry. Yes, of course.' Megan turned back. Why did Tracey want to speak to her? She was friendly enough when Megan had booked in and whenever she saw her around the bed and breakfast, but Tracey had never pulled her aside for a chat before. She glanced back at the hen party. Was Tracey worried they'd been too noisy when they'd returned last night? She didn't need to apologise. Megan hadn't minded.

‘Thank you. It's probably best if we take this in the office.' Tracey led the way through the breakfast tables and out into the foyer, towards the office behind the counter.

Following her, Megan had to sidestep as she narrowly avoided a toy car being propelled by a young boy. And once inside the office, she waited until Tracey had closed the door behind them before taking a seat in front of the immaculately organised desk.

‘Is there something I can help you with?'

‘Yes, yes, I won't keep you long. It's nothing to worry about, but your payment hasn't gone through this week, the direct debit has been declined so if you have another method of payment, I can get your account updated.' Tracey pulled a card reader into the middle of the desk.

‘It's been declined? I'm so sorry.' Megan pulled her purse from her handbag and pulled out her card. ‘Can we try it again, please? It shouldn't have.'

‘Of course. It may be that there's a glitch in the system or something.' Tracey tapped away on her computer before nodding towards the machine. ‘All ready for you.'

Megan pushed the card into the reader and tapped in her pin number, only to find the small screen blinked with the word ‘declined'.

‘Oh, that's strange.' Megan frowned. ‘I'll try another one.'

‘Maybe it's not an error on our end, then. It might be a problem with your bank.'

‘Yes, maybe.' She turned the card over in her hand, checking that it was still in date, before shrugging and pulling out her credit card. ‘Here, I'll pay with this one instead.'

Megan inserted her credit card and watched as the card reader flashed up with the word ‘declined' once again. She frowned.

‘I'm sorry, it looks as though that one's been declined as well.' Tracey tilted her head. ‘Do you have another you could try?'

‘I do.' What was going on? ‘Ah, here we go. This one is with a different bank, so should work.' Megan pushed a different credit card into the machine and picked up the discarded cards. ‘I'll have to give the bank a call and see what's going on.'

‘Good idea.' Tracey smiled sympathetically before her shoulders drooped. ‘Oh, I'm sorry, that payment isn't going through either.'

Taking the card back, Megan turned it over in her hand. ‘Could it be a problem with your card reader, or the signal or something?'

‘I'm afraid not, no. I've only just taken payment from someone else with this card reader.'

‘Oh, right.' Megan slipped her cards back into her purse. ‘They're with different banks though, they can't all have something wrong with the magnetic strip or something.'

Tracey shrugged her shoulders. ‘It might be where you've been keeping them, maybe? They used to say not to keep your bank cards next to your mobile, didn't they? I don't know if that's still the case, but…'

Megan nodded. She kept her cards in a separate purse, though, not in the back of her phone case or anything. Admittedly, she used to when she went on a run on a Sunday morning, but she hadn't done that since she'd left Lyle, and her cards had been working perfectly fine up until today.

‘Before you start panicking, why don't you give your banks a call? I'm sure there's a logical explanation.' Tracey stood up. ‘You can use the office. I need to pop and check something with Layla on the front desk, anyway.'

Megan gave her thanks and watched as Tracey left the room.

Yes, she'd ring the bank. Or banks. That was the thing though, if it had just been her debit and credit card with her high street bank then that would make sense but her other credit card was completely separate. Lyle had taken it out with a different bank entirely to take advantage of the better interest rate.

Megan leaned back in her chair, her shoulders slumping. It had just hit her. She knew why this was happening.

Of course, Lyle. This stunt had Lyle written all over it. He'd cut her off.

She swallowed as bile rose to her mouth. He couldn't do that, though. Not legally. Surely? Taking her mobile from her handbag, she scrolled through to his name and stabbed the Call button, straightening her back, the fingers of her free hand tapping against the wooden desktop.

It rang once. It rang twice. She waited until it had rung ten times before pulling her phone away from her ear, ready to end the call.

‘Megan. What a surprise to hear from you.'

She cringed at Lyle's voice, which sounded much smarmier than usual. ‘Lyle. Have you closed our bank accounts?'

‘Good morning to you too, Megan. I'm just fine, thank you. How are you?'

He had. She could hear the smugness in his voice. ‘Have you?'

‘Straight into the inquisition, I see. And to answer you bluntly, yes, I have. Although I've not exactly closed them, I've merely taken your name off of them.'

She breathed out forcefully, her nostrils flaring. ‘You can't do that.'

‘Oh, but I can. And I have.'

‘Lyle, you can't just cut me off like that. That money is mine too.'

‘Is it though? I think you'll find I was the one with the business, I was the one who worked throughout our marriage, and I was the one who earned the money.' His voice was clipped and short.

She gripped the phone tighter in her hand. ‘You didn't want me to work. You wanted me at home, to look after the house. I quit work because of you.'

‘Umm, I wonder if that argument will stand up in a court of law?'

‘Of course it will. I looked after the house whilst you looked after the business. We were married, we're still married, you can't just cut me off like this, I legally own half of everything.'

How could he? How could he treat her with such disdain, such indifference? They'd been in love, they'd been happy, once.

‘I think, Megan, my dearest wife, if you cast your mind back, you might just recall signing a prenup.'

As she opened her mouth to speak, all that escaped was a strange gurgle. The prenup. They had signed a prenup. It had been against her wishes. They'd been in love after all. What could go wrong? But she'd done it, scribbled her name on the stiff legal document.

‘Goodbye.' His voice echoed in her ear, followed by silence. He'd hung up.

She could feel the blood rush from her face as she struggled to steady her breathing. She had nothing. Nothing. He would walk away with everything: the house, their savings, the business. Everything. And she'd be left with nothing.

When Tracey popped her head through the door, all Megan could do was force a smile and nod feebly when Tracey asked, ‘All sorted?'

Megan tried to slow her breathing as Tracey slipped back behind the desk.

‘Ready to try again?' she asked, taking the card reader and holding it out to Megan.

What should she do? Should she tell her the truth? That she couldn't pay the bill? That she had no money? That she'd been cut off? What would happen then? Would Tracey call the police? Or let her pay it off once she'd found a job?

She needed a job. That's what she needed. But how? Who would take her on? An accountant that hadn't practised in ten years? No one would. Things had probably changed, new policies, new software. They had – she knew that much from the research she'd done whilst making a start on the accounts for Flora. She was penniless and had been out of the workplace for long enough to be deemed unsuitably trained.

‘Megan? Is everything okay? You look very pale.' Tracey frowned.

‘I… I'm so sorry, but I'm not going to be able to pay my bill right now.' She clasped her hands in her lap, her knuckles turning white. ‘My soon-to-be ex-husband has cut me off.'

‘Cut you off? From everything?'

Megan nodded. ‘From everything.'

‘Oh dear.'

‘I'm so embarrassed, but I'm going to have to ask you if I can pay the bill when I've found a job.' Megan rubbed her temple as a searing headache encompassed her. ‘I don't know what else to offer.'

Tracey pursed her lips and shook her head.

‘I'm so sorry.' Megan could hear her own voice wavering. What else was she supposed to say? How else could she make this right?

‘Oh, love, I'm not angry at you. I'm angry for you.' Reaching across the desk, she patted Megan's shoulder before turning to her computer and clicking on the keyboard. ‘It looks as though your previous payments went through just fine, so it's only this past week that you owe.'

‘Okay.'

‘Now let me see.' Tracey leaned her elbow on the desk, resting her head on her hand and looked up, thinking, before giving Megan a short smile. ‘Let me make you a proposal. I'll pop the payment on hold and then when you've got yourself a job you start by paying it back to us in instalments. How does that sound?'

‘That sounds amazing. I don't know what to say.' Megan relaxed her shoulders a little. ‘You'd really let me do that?'

‘Yes, I would. I've been through a difficult divorce myself and if my ex could have wangled it so I'd walked away with nothing, then he would have. We've got to stick together, us divorcees, haven't we?'

‘Thank you.'

‘The only thing is, I'm so sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave. One week's missing payment I can live with, but the business just can't afford to rent rooms free of charge. Do you have someone you can stay with?'

Did she have someone to stay with? She had no one. Megan placed her hands on her knees and pressed down as her legs began to shake. She needed to keep it together.

‘I understand, and you've done enough by allowing me to pay you back when I can. Thank you.' Megan leaned down and retrieved her phone from the floor before standing up and grabbing her bag. ‘I'll go and pack up my room now. Thank you so much.'

Standing up, Tracey met her gaze. ‘You do have somewhere to stay, don't you?'

‘Yes, yes. I do. And thank you.' She pulled open the door and made her way to her room.

Hefting her holdall further up her shoulder, Megan gripped her handbag in one hand and the array of canvas bags brimming with clothes in the other and used her elbow to open the bedroom door. She kicked the door open and leaned back against it as she manoeuvred herself and her bags out into the corridor.

‘Hold on, I'll get that for you, Megan.' Lisa ran towards her and held the door just as Megan fought herself and her bags free.

‘Thanks.'

‘Are you leaving today?'

‘Yes, yes. I'm off now.' Megan looked down at the bags in her hands before automatically trying and failing to reach her pocket. She sighed. She couldn't tip her, even if she could reach the few coins she'd gathered from the room. That was all she had. ‘Thank you so much for everything you've done throughout my stay.'

‘My pleasure. It sure beats cleaning a room after a family of six have stayed, traipsing sand from the beach into the carpets and wiping food across the walls.' Lisa grinned. ‘Hopefully, you'll pay us a visit again soon?'

‘Hopefully.' Megan forced a smile before making her way down the corridor. As she walked past the doors to the other bedrooms, she heard the shrieking of excited children just beginning their summer holiday adventures, the raucous laughter and chatter from the hen do and the voices of families enjoying their stay.

At the lift, she laid her bags on the floor by her feet and rolled her shoulders back just as the lift door pinged open and revealed a family – a mum and dad holding hands, two children playing one of those clapping games. She picked her bags up again and waited patiently for them to walk out before stepping inside.

Looking at her reflection in the mirror along the back wall of the lift, Megan could see why Tracey had looked so worried. She did look pale. Leaning her forehead against the cool of the mirror, she closed her eyes, hoping the cold would help alleviate the headache.

No such luck.

The lift jolted to a halt as it reached the ground floor, jarring Megan's forehead against the mirror. Opening her eyes, she prepared herself to battle through the reception area, planning on keeping her head down and hoping she didn't run into Tracey again. She'd been so lovely, but she just couldn't cope with her pity – not now. If one other person so much as smiled at her or was kind she thought she'd just burst out crying. Not a good look in the middle of a bed and breakfast full of happy holidaymakers.

When she reached her car, she let her bags fall to a heap on the tarmac of the car park and opened the boot before shovelling them all inside. She pulled it closed and stood, palms on the top of the boot, the heat of the metal warmed by the morning sun piercing her skin. What was she going to do?

She took a deep breath. One thing she was sure of was that she wasn't going to let Lyle break her. She wasn't going to go running back to him. Not in a million years.

And she wasn't going to ring him again. She wouldn't plead or cry or beg. No, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction. She had her car and for that, she was thankful. She'd just have to sleep in it until she could find a job and a room to rent. At least the silver lining of her landing a job would be that she'd have an excuse to work on Flora's accounts away from Wagging Tails, away from Jay.

Yes, that was her plan. She'd continue with her volunteering at Wagging Tails, avoiding Jay whenever she could, and cram in as much job research as possible using her mobile at night. She'd get up to speed on the accountancy front. Perhaps take a course, and then she could start approaching local companies looking for work. And in the meantime, she'd try to pick up a few shifts in the local supermarket or somewhere. Maybe there was a temping agency in Trestow.