Free The Other Woman's Shoes by Adele Parks Page B

final preparations for the dinner party. She asked Michael whethershe ought to put champagne in the fridge so that they could celebrate the offer’s acceptance. She commented that another plate was chipped. She rooted in the vegetable rack, remarking on the freshness or otherwise of each vegetable; but she wasn’t really concentrating on her own chatter. All she was thinking about was the Bridleway. The new house. Their dream home. Martha and Michael’s dreams were about to come true. The offer had been accepted. The solicitor had been instructed that it was all systems go, and that they must exchange and complete as fast as humanly possible. Martha had actually rung their solicitor at home, on a Saturday, because she was too excited to wait until Monday – she would never normally have been so bold, even if she and Michael did pay a fortune for her services. Martha was smiling from ear to ear and could not imagine ever stopping smiling.
    Michael wasn’t concentrating on Martha’s chatter either. He had no view on whether Martha should put champagne in the fridge. He couldn’t have cared less that another plate was chipped, and the vegetables, for fuck’s sake, were, after all, only vegetables.
    ‘I wonder where everyone is? Ed and Bel are normally so prompt. Maybe the traffic is bad? Dom and Tara are always late – that doesn’t surprise me in the least. Do you think I should call?’ Martha was desperate to tell someone her news. Tara would have such good ideas for the kitchen; she’d recently had hers completely renovated. Martha coveted Tara’s taps.
    ‘No.’
    ‘No, you’re right, it looks a bit rude if I hurry them. I’m sure they’ll get here in their own time.’
    ‘They’re not coming.’
    ‘Who aren’t? Ed and Bel, or Dom and Tara? Oh Michael, you could have told me earlier, I’ve cooked for six. Did they ring? Is it babysitting problems?’ Martha continued to dash about the kitchen as she fired these questions. She decanted a bottle of red that needed to breathe, she poured olives into a bowl, she polished the champagne glasses for the second time, and she tried to ignore the surge of irritation that she felt slither up her spine. Lovely as Michael was, he simply didn’t understand the logistics of how Martha managed their lives. He should have mentioned that they’d had a cancellation. She hated wasting good food, not to mention precious preparation time. If she hadn’t been in such a good mood she might have said something.
    But then, she probably wouldn’t have.
    ‘So who can’t make it?’ Martha was already wondering if she had any last-minute stand-ins. Would Eliza and Greg behave if she called them and invited them over? Or would they insist on smoking pot and ranting on about the unfair lack of facilities in state schools?
    ‘None of them are coming.’
    ‘None?’ Martha didn’t understand. She stopped dashing and stared at Michael.
    ‘No.’
    ‘Why not?’
    ‘I called them and cancelled.’
    ‘You cancelled?’ Martha thought she’d misheard, then all at once she understood. ‘Oh Michael, you sweetie, you want us to celebrate on our own.’ She moved towards him and went to put her arms around his neck. She pushedaside the thought that he should have told her so that she could have saved a fortune and an awful lot of time. It was a very romantic gesture.
    Michael took hold of Martha’s arms and slowly, carefully, put them back by her sides. He wasn’t looking at her. ‘I’m leaving, Martha.’
    ‘We’re going out?’ she asked, hesitantly, because there was something in Michael’s voice that didn’t say celebration. In fact, his body screamed hostility, frustration, shame and solitude.
    Michael sighed very deeply and stared at his mobile phone. He had been fiddling with it for a while and had finally plugged it into the re-charger. ‘I’m leaving you, Martha. I’m moving out.’
    The world stopped orbiting.
    Martha stopped breathing.
    Her heart was pounding