The Torn Up Marriage Read Online Free PDF Page B

her at all. She didn’t go breaking down in supermarkets. No, she was the one who could rustle up a five-course meal for Michael’s clients without breaking a sweat, the one who used to advise business customers in the bank. She hoped to God no one she knew had seen her. What the hell was she doing getting into a state over a sodding chicken?
Ah
, that was it. That’s what she needed.
    “Where’s my trolley?” Yes, she’d been shopping for a roast dinner.
    “It’s okay. We’ve kept it by the end checkout for you.” Carol spoke softly and slowly, smiling encouragingly, as though Kate might be a bit dim, or fragile.
    “Thanks.” Kate stood up. She had to get that chicken, pay for her shopping and get out of here fast.
    “Is there anything else I can do for you?”
    “No, I’m fine, thanks. I’ll just fetch the last things I need, settle up and be on my way.”
And outta here.
    At the till now, loading her goods on the conveyor belt, the well-meaning assistant had found her a pre-packed chicken, helped her to the counter and started emptying her trolley for her. How embarrassing! So Kate repeated in clipped tones that she
really
was fine now, she’d be okay, and finally lost Concerned Carol. The sooner she got through the checkout and away the better. There was bound to be some busybody from school about. Piles of food drifted by on the conveyor belt, the woman in front of her had it crammed with cereals, milk, juice, bread, biscuits, sweets; the things you bought for your family. Kate watched the items go by. Everyday goods, everyday life going on around her. The supermarket shop.
    Everything was normal. Nothing was normal.

Chapter 6
    “Come on then, Lottie. We’re nearly there.”
    The toddler was trailing behind, dragging a pink plastic spade in a jagged line through the sandy track. Michael, ahead in khaki shorts and white t-shirt, a picnic blanket rolled up beneath one of his arms, the back of Emily’s small head peeping out from the top of the child carrier that hung on his back. Kate was walking between them, the bulky shoulder bag laden with food, nappies and other essentials digging into her side, chivvying Charlotte on. Beads of sweat were gathering on her brow, the sun promisingly hot on the back of her neck.
    She knew this path well; used to come here with her own parents. The last spiky rise of the dunes. The salt smell of the North Sea. A small crescendo of excitement in her chest as the expanse of azure blue and gold revealed itself: Embleton beach, a long arc of golden sand tapering into rock pools to their right and the steep grassy rise of the cliffs that held the dramatic ruins of Dunstanburgh Castle.
    “Shall we go for a walk first or stop a while?” Michael paused.
    The sand had filled Kate’s pumps, grainy between her toes. Charlotte still shuffling along behind.
    “We’ll stop. Maybe set the blanket up somewhere and leave our stuff. Then we can dip our toes in the sea. Hey, Lottie?” She turned to grin at her daughter, who was still bringing up the rear.
    “And then we’ll make a sandcastle,” Michael chipped in.
    They walked on and found a spot where the sand flattened out just at the end of the dunes. Kate took the rug and laid it out whilst Michael hoisted down the baby carrier, setting it firmly upright into the sand.
    “Hey, sweetie, look where we are.” Kate brushed a hand gently across Emily’s eight-month-old peachy cheek. “Wow. Your first day out on the beach.” Emily looked back at her, bemused, propped up within the sling of the carrier, her sunhat lopsided.
    Kate slipped off her sand-filled shoes and quickly sorted out their things. Michael lifted Emily out, bouncing her high in his arms. Charlotte had plonked herself down on the rug, grumpy from the June heat and the walk from the car. They’d finally got a whole day together; Michael had been working long hours lately. Kate was determined to make the most of it.
    She stood staring out at the sea. The rush