There was a perfectly reasonable explanation for this. There must be. It was just a question of finding it. Determined, she pulled herself up on the couch a bit.
Just let him be hurt, she begged St Anthony. Sorry, Barry, she added. But there could be no other explanation for his absence on the morning of his wedding. Because he would not do this to her. she knew him too well, they had been together too long. There was no way he would just leave her high and dry like this unless something serious was wrong.
She knew how desperate she sounded even to herself. Bet she didn't care. She had a rising sense of apprehension, of dread, that she was trying hard to fight down but it was a losing battle.
The sympathy set Judy crying even harder; the tears streamed down her face and her nose ran like a tap all down Rose's front.
'I don't know. I just don't know.'
She was angry again. It felt good. Or at least better than weeping and wailing, and rocking back and forth like a candidate for asylum.
'What wrong with me?' she asked the bowl of fruit which happened to be in her line of vision. She didn't get any satisfying answer.
Still, there would be plenty of time in the coming days for blame; hours and hours to examine her faults, to go over her character flaws with a fine toothcomb, pinpointing exactly what it was about her that had driven barry away. The idea was enough to make her puke.
She didn't think she had ever felt so worthless in her entire life. Well, it was hard not to. Anybody would have in the circumstances.
In her deepest moments of self-hate, she would crawl right under the duvet and huddle there in a little ball, only surfacing now and then for a packet of crisps.
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