The Man I Loved Before: A completely gripping and heart-wrenching page turner Read online

  The Man I Loved Before

  A completely gripping and heart-wrenching page-turner

  Anna Mansell

  Books by Anna Mansell

  How to Mend a Broken Heart

  The Lost Wife

  I Wanted to Tell You

  Her Best Friend’s Secret

  The Man I Loved Before

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Chapter 70

  Chapter 71

  Chapter 72

  Chapter 73

  Chapter 74

  Chapter 75

  Chapter 76

  Chapter 77

  Chapter 78

  Chapter 79

  Chapter 80

  Chapter 81

  Chapter 82

  Chapter 83

  Chapter 84

  Chapter 85

  Chapter 86

  Chapter 87

  I Wanted to Tell You

  Anna’s Email Sign-Up

  Books by Anna Mansell

  A Letter from Anna

  How to Mend a Broken Heart

  The Lost Wife

  Her Best Friend’s Secret

  Acknowledgements

  For Maggie: from a casual conversation on the sofa in December 2018, to a real-life book we can hold in our hands, March 2020. Proof that hard work, self-belief and patience pays off. X

  1

  Dear Ben,

  There are some things I have to tell you. Things I need to own so I can move forward with my life. But they’re things that you may not want to know. After all, you left, as well you should have. I neither deserved nor appreciated you – at least, not the way you wanted me to. Not the way you had every right for me to. I wish I knew why I behaved the way I did, I wish I could put it all right, but sometimes, it’s just too late…

  2

  ‘Isn’t thirty-eight a bit old for dating apps?’ I suggest.

  ‘Too old? You know Nicky Sales is getting married next year because of Tinder.’ My best friend Leanne barely looks up as she swipes and types on my phone. I’d given it to her to get me on their new WiFi, but she apparently saw an opportunity to take my life into her own hands.

  ‘I’m just not sure. I’m trying to nurture a gentler phase in my life after the last few years. You know how crap it’s been. I think I just want to exorcise some demons and be happy. Learn to love myself.’

  ‘Alright, Yoko Ono,’ she says, cynically. ‘Exorcising demons suggests you’re going to start unpicking all that’s gone off and I’m telling you now, no good can come of reliving the bad stuff.’

  I shift uncomfortably because it’s almost like she can see the state I got in when I wrote the letter to Ben. I hadn’t anticipated how painful it would be, how much I’d relive all the moments I felt I wanted to say.

  ‘Don’t get me wrong,’ she continues, not looking up. ‘I’d like to see you love yourself, even the messed-up bits. Because if you’ve not messed up in life, then you’re not living it right. But I also know you. Loving yourself won’t happen overnight. Maybe a bit of positive male attention might help in the meantime.’

  ‘Is that not the very opposite of what I’m supposed to be doing?’

  ‘Who says what you’re supposed to be doing? Also I’m not saying you need a man to make you happy…’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘But maybe a bit of flirting and a few dates might make you realise you’re not a total lost cause.’

  ‘Flirting and dates? Oh God. I can’t even…’ Leanne ignores me, so I raise my eyebrows at my brand-new, tiny goddaughter instead. Elsie Alice. She lies in my lap and doesn’t respond. She probably doesn’t have an opinion on Tinder. She’s three weeks old but still a bit scrunched up, like, if she could, she’d climb straight back in the womb and nestle there for a few more months. I can relate to that. A womb is safe and away from reality. It’s warm. You can mostly sleep. Nobody requires you to be a grown-up. Or join Tinder.

  ‘You might meet the man of your dreams.’

  ‘I don’t think I’m ready.’

  ‘You may not feel ready, but I’m here to tell you, you are. This is exactly what you need, the motivation to move on. Let’s face it, you’ve never been that good at realising when it was time.’

  I’ve known Leanne for years. Since school, though we didn’t hang out much then. But we’ve been inseparable since meeting back up at work a couple of years ago. Recruitment. A job she got out of way before I did and, frankly, I wish I had followed her lead. At least then I might not have got the sack. She’s seen me at my best and worst and whilst she has no problem in telling me if she thinks I’m being an idiot, she also seems to accept that mostly I’m not a bad person.

  ‘Maybe you’re right,’ I say, uncertainly.

  ‘It may not be the perfect solution, but something’s got to give. Like I say, you can’t keep looking back, Jem. So, what shall I say about you? In your profile bit. We need something funny, something sharp and sassy. Something that will make you stand out from the crowd.’

  I smile. ‘That I’m doing this under duress? That my life is a mess and I should probably be avoided at all costs. That I am broke, single and living back with my mum?’

  ‘You can’t start with that. You need to be open, but not too open. You need to seem keen.’

  ‘How keen?’

  ‘Keen enough to shave your legs before you go on a date.’

  She looks pointedly at the bit of ankle poking out of my jeans, so I pull my leg out of view. ‘I will shave my legs if and when I want to. It just hasn’t really been a priority of late, is all.’

  ‘No. I can see that.’

  ‘In case you’d forgotten, there’s not been much call for a shaven leg round these parts. And I’ve been
a little busy here, helping you. Besides, Elsie Alice doesn’t care about the state of my leg hair, do you, baby? Hey? No. No you don’t.’ I tap my finger from her chin to top lip to nose. Something I always do to babies and for some weird reason, it usually makes them laugh. Not this time. ‘Nothing. Tough crowd.’

  ‘She won’t be laughing for weeks yet.’

  ‘She could at least smile.’

  ‘She’s not a performing monkey! Right, I’ve said you’re: often wrong but never in doubt.’

  ‘Wow! Thanks.’

  ‘It’s a joke.’

  ‘It makes me sound high maintenance!’

  ‘Alright, what would you put?’

  ‘I don’t know. That I like reading, watching TV, and holidays abroad?’ Leanne mock yawns. ‘See! This is why I don’t do dating apps, what the hell are you supposed to say? Maybe it’s time I was single for a while.’

  ‘You’ve been single for a year, Jemima Whitfield. And, whilst there’s nothing wrong with that per se, I think you feel stuck, don’t you?’ I half nod, mildly irritated by her powers of observation. ‘This could be a little kick-start.’

  ‘But don’t you think I need time to process it all? And what about Mum? She needs me.’

  ‘She’s on the mend, Jem.’

  ‘In theory. But everything feels so raw. Since Ben left, at the risk of sounding over-dramatic, I feel like life has gone from bad to worse.’

  ‘It went bad to worse a year ago. And now it’s getting better. You’re just testing the waters, that’s all.’

  ‘What does an almost forty-year-old, recently bankrupt, emotionally unavailable woman have to offer anyone?’

  ‘You are only two of those things – thirty-eight is not almost forty. Not in my book anyway, I’m not owning that until I absolutely have to.’ I scowl at her. ‘It’s exactly why I think this would help though, love. Give you some confidence that you are worthy, that you have something to offer.’ She breathes in. ‘Make you stop obsessing over Ben.’

  ‘I’m not obsessing over him.’ This is a lie and she’ll know it. I never stopped thinking about him, despite everything that went on. All that I did. All that’s happened since he left. I should stop hiding and beating myself up for past me, and all the things she did. It’s time to acknowledge my flaws, own them, then move on. Be new. Be better. Be the person Leanne seems to think I can be. ‘I wrote him a letter.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Ben!’ Leanne looks at me and it’s a bit like people who peer over their glasses, except she doesn’t wear glasses. ‘I thought it would be cathartic. Put some ghosts to rest, you know? I put everything in there. I told him everything.’

  ‘Everything?’

  She sounds surprised. I suppose because I’ve told her so many times that I just don’t want to talk about it. And because she knows it all, she’s never really pushed me to open up further. Just suggested that at some point, it might be a sensible option. But I can’t. I don’t want to. It’s hideous and just reminds me what a terrible person I’ve been.

  ‘Have you posted it?’

  ‘Of course not! I’m not stupid.’ Elsie Alice wriggles, so I pick her up, resting her against my chest. She nuzzles into my neck and for a second I close my eyes and imagine what it might have felt like to have my own small person wholly and solely reliant on me. I think probably I’d be a terrible mother. Leanne does it so well, but I’m just not that selfless. I snap myself out of the unnecessary daydream. ‘Ben always had this thing about writing things down then burning them.’

  ‘Ben did?’

  ‘Yes. He said it helped. You write stuff down then you burn it. It’s supposed to rid you of guilt and trauma.’

  ‘Could work.’

  ‘Can’t make it any worse.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘So, I went back over everything. Wrote it all down. Hated on myself a bit then folded it up and popped it in an envelope. I’m gonna pick up one of those mini garden incinerator thingy’s from Geoff’s DIY, the ones that look like a metal bin with a chimney. I’ll burn the lot on the patio. Maybe, after the smoke has gone, I won’t be a terrible person any more.’

  ‘There, you’re all set. Let’s get swiping,’ she says, not passing me my phone back. ‘And you are not a terrible person. You are my brilliant best mate who makes good tea.’

  ‘You want tea?’

  ‘I kind of want tea.’

  I roll my eyes but don’t really mind Leanne’s request. Let’s face it, she gave birth to a giant, tiny baby and has struggled to sit down ever since. She winces when she walks and cries whenever she breastfeeds. Something about her uterus. I grimace a little at that bit. But I am interested in Leanne’s mental health and wellbeing, so tea is a small price to pay. Besides, I need her to be okay. I need her. ‘Right, tea coming up. I think you might be required to feed,’ I say, handing an increasingly agitated Elsie back to her.

  ‘Probably. Doesn’t stop eating, this one. You make tea whilst I feed her, and swipe for the future love of your life for you.’

  3

  From the kitchen I can hear her, in between complaints about her uterus, or breastfeeding in general, shouting out about people she’s finding. ‘Oh, nice.’ Or ‘I’d ruin him!’ Before I hear a, ‘No way!’

  ‘What?’ I shout, spilling milk on the side.

  ‘Isn’t that the lad from school, the one from a couple of years above who used to follow Fleur Andrews around like a lost puppy?’

  Fleur was Leanne’s best friend at school. She was cool and beautiful and everyone fancied her. I wipe the milk up and head through.

  ‘That’s deffo him. Look.’ She holds my phone up for me to check and I peer at it. ‘Mitch! That’s his name. Mitchell… Black! Failed his GCSEs, so had to hang back and do another year.’

  She zooms in on the photo.

  ‘Christ, Mitch Black. Yes. That is him.’ I get a second to study his face before she pulls it back to take a closer look herself.

  She cocks her head to one side. ‘I was never sure about him really, but he does look good.’ I make a noise that was supposed to sound indifferent, but I think comes out a bit eager. ‘Oh yeah?’ she says, grinning at me. ‘You like a man that’s grown into his face, don’t you? That weathered, lived-in look.’

  ‘Weathered and lived-in? He’s not Alan Rickman.’

  ‘No,’ she grimaces. ‘Mitch Black looks pretty hot.’

  ‘If you like that sort of thing,’ I say, holding my hand out for my phone. ‘And there was NOTHING wrong with Alan Rickman, I’ll have you know.’

  ‘Hmmm. He could be your very own Alan Rickman. Only better. And alive.’

  I’m about to point out that I still grieve the loss of one of my favourite actors but she’s not paying attention and has, instead, swiped right before handing back my phone. My mouth drops open. ‘No way, you did not just do that.’

  ‘If it was left to you, you’d be moping around single and morbid for life.’

  ‘I wouldn’t, I just need time. And besides, didn’t you say Mitch Black was weird?’

  ‘No. I said I wasn’t sure about him. Which I wasn’t. But that was over twenty years ago. We all change. Besides, Ben left yonks ago, you need to get out there.’

  ‘Need? I don’t need anything.’

  ‘We all have “needs”,’ she says, labouring the point.

  ‘Needs I can satisfy perfectly well by myself, thank you very much. I don’t need a man.’

  ‘You don’t. Of course you don’t. But that doesn’t mean to say you actively can’t have one.’

  ‘What? Mitch Black from school?’

  ‘If he swipes right, too?’

  ‘I think I want to die.’

  ‘Not before he’s swiped right, you’ll not!’

  I groan, dropping into the chair opposite her, just as Mum sends me a text.

  I assume that letter in your room was for posting. So nice to see you two have been in touch. I’ve popped a stamp on and dropped it in the box. Give my love to
Leanne. X

  My heart stops. ‘No, no, no, no!’

  ‘What?’

  I cough, trying to restart my pulse, apparently to no avail. ‘The letter… Mum’s posted the letter…’

  ‘What letter?’ Leanne leans away from Elsie Alice so she can blow across the top of her tea. ‘I will drink this whilst it’s still warm!’

  ‘The letter. THE letter. The LETTER!’ I get up and pace to the window.

  ‘Oh no… not—’

  ‘The one I was going to burn later. So nobody had to read it.’

  ‘Where was it?’

  ‘In my room. Mum goes in sometimes if she’s putting a wash on and hasn’t got enough of her own stuff. She saw it on the side.’

  ‘But… shit.’

  I spin to face her, hands on head. ‘Oh God, this is bad. This is really bad. I thought things were bad before, but this is…’