Picking up the Pieces: Starting Over Novels

By Terence Goble and T M Goble

In the captivating novel "Picking up the Pieces," Melissa's world crumbles when the man she loved disappears, taking her hard-earned money with him. The future that once seemed so promising now lies in tatters, leaving her drowning in a sea of despair and betrayal.

As Melissa grapples with the devastating aftermath of her boyfriend's betrayal, a family friend offers an unexpected and unsettling suggestion—that she may have played a role in driving him away. Melissa vehemently dismisses this notion as absurd, but it continues to haunt her thoughts, casting doubt upon her actions and choices.

A fiercely independent spirit, Melissa has always rebuffed offers of assistance from those around her. However, as she faces the daunting challenge of rebuilding her life from the wreckage left behind, she must confront a critical question: Can she summon the inner strength and resilience to forge a new path forward?

In "Picking up the Pieces," Melissa's journey of self-discovery and healing takes centre stage. With her independence and determination as her guiding lights, she embarks on a quest to overcome adversity, embrace the support of loved ones, and rise to the challenge of an uncertain future.

Join Melissa as she navigates the complexities of starting over, confronting her own doubts, and finding the courage to rebuild her life. "Picking up the Pieces" is a compelling and emotionally charged story that will resonate with anyone who has faced adversity and emerged stronger, determined to create a brighter future.

Description from Dalle suitable for a advert

Here is the image created for the book cover of "Picking up the Pieces." It visually encapsulates the themes of challenge, resilience, and self-discovery. The silhouette of a woman standing alone on a turbulent beach with scattered pieces of a shattered mirror around her, under a sky that mixes stormy clouds and emerging sunlight, captures the essence of Melissa's journey. This setting conveys her inner strength and the tumultuous path of rebuilding her life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Creative Peak
• Release date: Feb 18, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224475223

Book preview

02

Damn! The doorbell ringing reverberated through my head. Has he come back? My breath stuttered but reality took over, he had a key. I don’t want to talk to anyone, only him. Leave me alone! The ringing repeated, so I pulled my dressing gown tight and levered my reluctant body from the sofa. As I stood undecided, the bell shrilled a staccato pattern as though practising Morse code.

Annoyed, I tiptoed into the hall and held my breath hoping to be silent and undetectable. I’m not answering but I’ll sneak a look. The peep hole in the varnished oak front door showed the familiar face of the last person in Braxton I wanted calling. A sharp and dominant voice came through the door, ‘Melissa, your dad mentioned you’d be at home, I’ve heard about Jake, let me in.’ How the hell does she know? Mrs Knowitall from the golf club.

She’ll spread rumours, but if I don’t answer, she’ll call Dad. I dragged a hand through my hair and mopped up my face with a soggy tissue. My hand shook as it reached for the pale grey metallic Yale lock. A moment’s hesitation gripped me, as my hand hovered almost touching the handle. Although I racked my brains for a reason not to open the door, only empty thoughts circled. No feasible excuse came to mind.

‘Come in, Dorothy,’ I unlatched the door and walked away. The front door banged shut. I padded barefoot over the laminate floor into the lounge.

‘Poor lass,’ her voice was laced with concern. ‘I’d cut his balls off if I got hold of him.’

Even in my current state it wasn’t the words I expected to hear from the Ladies Captain of the golf club and a former mayor of the town. Despite my misery, a hint of a smile tugged at my lips, but it didn’t last long as she bore down and enveloped me in a hug, allowing me to sob on her shoulder.

With a final squeeze she released me, and I slumped onto the large cream sofa. Through tear-filled eyes I stared around at the familiar room. A stunning fireplace plus elaborate internal shutters to keep out the winter’s buffeting. Sumptuous furniture. The flat had been planned as an elegant place filled with luxuries. Jake hadn’t been burdened with any DIY work, and he could have moved straight in to share the completed flat. Now that would never happen as he’d absconded with my money. A con man and a liar.

Heat burned my cheeks and I gritted my teeth to control the violent expletives. Dorothy perched on the settee, ‘The people at the golf club expected you to remain together, you made a handsome couple.’ My shoulders slumped, and I rubbed a weary hand across my aching head. The tension made me nauseous, so I dragged myself from the sofa and crossed the room for another tissue.

Standing next to the veneered sideboard I lifted my tear-stained face, ‘Why hadn’t he proposed? I thought he loved me.’ I choked the words out and a sigh caught in my throat, ‘And I expected him to move in, so we could share our life together.’

Dorothy’s steel-grey eyes flashed, but they wandered to examine the room, ‘Perhaps he wasn’t ready for marriage, it’s a big step for a man.’ The words washed over me and did little to soothe the torment and disbelief that enveloped me.

My world had collapsed, ‘The bastard has betrayed me.’ My voice had a bitter edge and rose in volume. Hurling the soggy tissue onto the floor, I stomped back to the sofa. Mixed with the emptiness, anger bubbled up. I wanted him back, but I’d make him suffer for his despicable actions. He’d need to grovel on bended knee. How dare he walk away with the money.

Everything had appeared perfect, but trust had landed me in a mess. Did I drive him away? No, I reprimanded myself, not my fault. The little niggle of doubt crept once again into my mind, but I pushed it away with an impatient huff, it was not an idea I wished to examine.

Dorothy’s eyes flicked back to my face, ‘Tell me,’ she patted my knee in a motherly fashion, ‘then let’s see if I can help.’ Although she gossiped, I had to tell someone. In some ways she would be the least embarrassing because she wouldn’t pass judgement. Ever since a small child, she’d always been there to dispense sympathy and advice, whether needed or not. I took a deep steadying breath to calm my turbulent thoughts.

‘For the last couple of days, Jake hadn’t answered his phone so I became worried he might be ill. Late this afternoon when I finished work, I nipped to his bedsit.’ The memories of late afternoon came flooding back. I gulped, and my stomach clenched. ‘His landlady explained he’d moved out two days ago. He hadn’t rung or texted to tell me.’ I slumped back into the softness of the sofa as a mixture of sadness and bewilderment encircled me.

Dorothy patted me gently on the arm, ‘I bumped into his landlady at the supermarket. She told me Jake had left and relocated to London. Her news surprised me so that’s why I’ve come to see you.’ She caught hold of both my hands and caressed the backs of my fingers in a soothing gesture. The confirmation that Jake had deserted me sent a draining weakness through my body.

Tears filled my eyes as I relived the experience of my late afternoon trip to find him. ‘After I left his bedsit, I racked my brains to think where he had gone, but nothing came to mind, so I planned to return here and ring his friends. Anyway,’ I huffed out a short, exasperated breath, ‘I stopped to buy a bottle of wine in case he arrived later, but to my utter embarrassment the bank refused payment on the card, even though I had money in the account. With no cash on me, I had to leave the off-licence empty handed.’ My cheeks flushed as I recalled the humiliating scenario.

‘The reality hit me when I reached home and logged on to the bank site to find the personal and business accounts had been emptied. Bastard!’ My voice rose to a shriek on the final word.

Dorothy nibbled her bottom lip and let go of my hands, her eyes widened, and she stared into the distance with a faraway look. Alerted by her silence and her withdrawn expression, I searched her face looking for clues. What had I mentioned to change her approach? What did she know? Had her sharp eyes picked up something? Her eyes dropped away, and her fingers fiddled with the hem of her dress. The heavy silence surrounded me, ‘I’ve been conned and ripped-off!’

Dorothy’s eyes narrowed, and she rubbed a hand across her forehead, ‘How did he get access to the accounts?’

My throat tightened and I heaved out a loud sigh, ‘The bookkeeper for my salon retired a few months ago. Money is tight in the hairdressing business, and I had difficulty in finding a replacement. Jake had taken a business course at college, so he volunteered to keep the books. At the time it appeared a kind and generous gesture, so I provided him with the bank account details.’

Dorothy absorbed this information with an indecipherable expression, ‘Do you know where he’s gone in London? Any ideas?’

‘No,’ I stammered groping for words.

‘Did he qualify in business? ’Dorothy’s piercing eyes searched my face and her eyebrows raised in a questioning manner.

‘You don’t ask your lover for certificates as you believe every word he says.’

‘Did you pay him for doing the books,’ she snapped back.

‘No,’ I lowered my gaze, and tried to keep the fear and desperation out of my voice, ‘he maintained he’d be happy to help for free, which would allow me to save the money to reinvest.’

Finishing with her questions, Dorothy pushed herself up from the sofa, moved across the lounge and pulled the curtains, shutting out the darkness of the evening. Then she flicked on the lights and the room blazed with a brightness that dazzled. The lavish chandelier assisted by various table lamps and uplighters left no corner of the room in darkness. The friendly and sympathetic face had disappeared to be replaced by a severe and hardened expression.

With hands on her hips and a flicker of impatience in her eyes, ‘Now you’ve settled down, I must ask.’

‘Ask what, Dorothy.’ From the moment of her arrival this evening I’d feared an interrogation, and this would be the start. On experience from past encounters, she would leave no stone unturned, as she ferreted for information. My stomach tensed as I waited.

‘Have you given Jake a reason to up and leave?’ The predatory smirk in her tone sent an icy shiver down my spine. Rebellion welled up. Why should I defend my actions? I glanced up at the sparkling chandelier, stalling for time. Choosing to opt for a bland reply, I grinned feebly, ‘The anniversary of our first date passed three weeks ago, we’ve been together for a year. You’ve seen what we’ve been like together.’ I made an expansive gesture with my arm.

Then the smile dropped from my face and I thumped the arm of the sofa in exasperation, ‘Why leave?’ I hissed between almost sealed lips, ‘the bastard!’ I gulped but stopped the tears coming again, ‘He ripped me off!’ I moaned theatrically, ‘Can’t you understand that!’ My voice rose along with my frustration as I stressed each syllable, hoping she would finally understand and sympathise with my predicament.

‘Yes, dear,’ but her dark expression didn’t match the false pleasantness of her words.

03

The sound of the doorbell cut short the interrogation. Hoping dad had arrived, I rushed from the room as I didn’t want to answer more questions.

‘I’ve been so gullible,’ I stuttered giving him a hug of welcome. I’d texted him earlier and explained the bare details of Jake’s hasty departure to London. The early sympathy from Dorothy had evaporated and had been replaced by a mission to uncover the truth. Her intensity in these situations became terrifying, so Dad’s company came as a welcome relief. As always, he had rushed to help. With his calm, unflustered manner, I hoped he would know what to do.

I squeezed my eyes shut to stop the tears forming although a few escaped and trickled across my face. Reaching up, I kissed him on the cheek, ‘It’s the end of the line for the business that I’ve worked so hard to build.’

With his usual comforting smile he led me into the lounge, ‘Why? You’ve plenty of customers.’

‘The salon is far less busy than previously,’ Dorothy chipped in, as she greeted him with a peck on his cheek.

‘Is that true, Melissa? Why didn’t you ask for help and advice?’ Dad took up his favourite position of his back to the fireplace, with hands clasped behind him. Dorothy opted for the armchair. Dad’s eyes followed my every movement.

Slumping back onto the sofa, I tucked my legs up and pulled the soft dressing gown around me, to cocoon me in comfort and warmth, as I shivered but not from the cold. ‘Stubbornness runs in the family,’ I blurted out. But neither Dad nor Dorothy wanted humour and there was no flicker of amusement. ‘I’ve been trying to stand on my own two feet,’ my voice trembled, ‘and not run to you for money.’

‘I applaud that don’t you, Ken?’

‘Yes, but why is the business declining?’ he gazed waiting for an explanation.

‘Another salon down the road, with modern equipment and flashy décor, has opened. My premises are dated in comparison, so several thousands in the account had been earmarked to pay for a refurbishment.’ Slumping back on the couch I stretched my feet out, ‘What an idiot I’ve been!’

Dorothy’s presence was no longer necessary, so I hoped she’d take the hint and leave, ‘Thanks for staying,’ a half smile surfaced on my face, ‘you’ve been a great help and calmed me.’

Despite the hint she showed no sign of departing as she relaxed back in the armchair and the creases on her face deepened, ‘Bad experience. Best forgotten.’

‘Jake conned me,’ but my feeble voice verged on pathetic. My mouth hardened into a thin line as disappointment swamped me.

‘We’ve all been duped by the opposite sex, haven’t we, Ken?’ she fixed Dad with an intense look. She loved putting him on the spot, he gave a small nod of agreement which surprised me. Dorothy kept her steady gaze on his face, ‘More importantly, what is the way forward?’

Didn’t she realise there would be no future? No man plus no money made everything bleak. Tears came back as I thought of Jake clearing my bank accounts. How long had he been planning it? What would he do with my money? Had he met someone else? Surely it wasn’t my fault.

With a trembling chin, disappointment snaked through my body. With an effort I dragged my attention back to the current problems, ‘The rent is due on the shop, but I can muddle through as next week’s diary is full.’

Dorothy’s eyes brightened, ‘You’re going to London for the hairdressers’ awards next weekend, aren’t you?’

I grimaced as I’d forgotten about the event, ‘How I received a nomination for the award I don’t know, but I won’t win. It’ll be a waste of money. There’s no point in attending, I’ll withdraw as I need to work all hours possible to return the salon to a good income.’ Then reality hit, and I gulped, ‘But it might be better to close.’

Dad’s eyes focused, ‘Why?’ My dad had become an effective businessman and I wanted to be as successful.

I’d tried but had now failed miserably, ‘The money in the bank I earmarked for new equipment and to refurbish the décor. However, the lease is going up by a staggering amount in a couple of months. Nobody will want to come to the salon unless it looks more appealing.’

Dorothy nodded, and a smile flashed across her face, ‘You’ve done your best. Standing on your own two feet, independent of your dad, is commendable.’

Dad rubbed his chin in a thoughtful manner, ‘Melissa you have done well, but the time has come to let me help.’

With sagging shoulders, I puffed out my cheeks, ‘I’m not sure.’

He became silent and moved away from the fireplace and walked towards the window but still didn’t speak. Dorothy’s voice broke the silence, ‘Ken?’

‘I’ll set Melissa up in a new shop.’

‘No.’

‘Hear me out. Have a year or two to get settled and then pay me back the interest free loan. That way you will still run your own business.’

Words failed me. I glanced across at his warm face and admired his persistence. Even in my sad and sorry state I appreciated it to be the best way forward.

Dorothy leapt up from her chair, flopped down beside me on the sofa and gave me another hug, ‘She accepts.’ The tears fell again.

04

Each time I came through the door, I marvelled at dad’s vision for the new salon. The extensive space, with the stylists’ chairs, had a Romanesque design, with the mirrors under curved arches. The principal areas of the salon had been constructed using a medieval theme, and the furniture complemented the style. He had transformed an empty shell of a large shop into this exquisite salon in a matter of weeks, far more beautiful than the poor little shop in the back street where I’d started.

Standing in the middle of the empty salon, a jolt of nervousness shot through me about managing such a large business. Nobody else had arrived as I preferred to start early, before eight o’clock, in advance of my staff. The eerie quiet of the salon echoed as I strolled around staring at the specialist facilities. The only sound came from the click of my heels across the grey tiled floor. Stopping before a large mirror I checked my appearance. First impressions were so important. Today I’d opted for smart black trousers and a simple cream lacy top. I’d styled my black glossy hair in long flowing curls which cascaded over my shoulders and down my back.

My dark eyes were framed with lashings of mascara and my lips had a slick of pale pink lipstick. Satisfied with my appearance, I wandered the salon checking that the vivid pink and grey towels were neatly arranged in their designated storage units along the wall. I tended to be over meticulous but wanted perfection.

I tweaked the pale pink freesias in an ornate vase on the reception desk, their beautifully scented fragrance filled the air. Standing back, my gaze wandered the plush salon. Warmth radiated through my body and I took a deep satisfied breath.

Determination gripped me to make a success of it. Dad had assured me a large salon could grow into a big business, like his building company. Larger than the small shop I’d leased before winning the national hairdressing award he convinced me the business would flow in. I gave a self-satisfied grin as I imagined the possibility of becoming the best hairdressing salon in Braxton. Hard work coupled with the stylish salon would bring a plentiful supply of customers.

My mind drifted back to the London excursion for the hairdressing awards, and the buzz of excitement resurfaced, bringing a huge grin. I’d made the effort to attend the London event, although I hadn’t been enthusiastic as my waking thoughts at that time had been filled with Jake’s deceit.

A longing at the thought of him rippled through me. I pushed it away with impatience. I didn’t want to think about him anymore. The events constantly replayed in my mind and achieved nothing except producing tears.

Setting up the new shop had helped to distract me from the torment of my thoughts and recriminations. The evenings had been the worse, when I imagined other people having fun and enjoying themselves, while I moped around the flat. Finding the television schedule boring, I spent most of the time clutching the remote control and flicking through the channels, so that in the end I never watched a programme.

With a push from Dorothy, I had ventured to London. Being with like-minded people, my fellow competitors, for a whole weekend had been the perfect distraction as we’d taken London by storm. I’d laughed and had fun. Then to my surprise I’d won the prestigious hairdressing award. Oh! how we celebrated.

05

A movement caught my attention and I spun around, startled, to find a broad muscular man standing in the doorway. I hadn’t heard the salon door open as I’d been so engrossed with my thoughts. Why stand in the doorway?

An expression of concern covered his face, so I gave a welcoming smile. About seven or eight years older than me, in his late thirties, he wore a thick checked shirt and grubby jeans. I assumed him to be one of dad’s workmen who had come to finish the paving in the backyard. His dishevelled hair, a nondescript brown, curled around his collar in unruly waves and he needed a haircut. The man’s unkempt appearance wasn’t helped by the dark shadow on his chin as he hadn’t shaved this morning.

‘Can I help you?’ Handsome, in a rough way, his features were strong and defined but a deep frown creased his forehead which spoiled his attractiveness. Cross with myself, I huffed out a breath, as I needed to stop evaluating every man I met. I didn’t need any distractions, especially from males. While I liked potential customers to drop in, judging by the way he hovered in the doorway, he would be nervous surrounded by a lot of chattering women.

So why delay in the doorway? The man looked me up and down, straightened up to his full height and took one pace forward. ‘Have you come for a haircut?’ I asked surprised by the eagerness in my voice.

Shaking his head, he scowled, displeasure swept across his face, ‘No, I’ve come to ask you a question.’ By now he had advanced a few metres inside the door and stood in the middle of the shiny grey mosaic floor.

‘What is it?’ My curiosity awakened, ‘how can I help?’

Looking towards the door, he muttered, ‘Come in, Chloe.’ The expression on my face changed, and my welcoming smile melted away, like ice on a hot summer’s day as the young girl appeared in the doorway.

Chloe, a fifteen-year-old schoolgirl, had started working in the salon last week on the first Saturday we opened. Hard work in a busy salon shocked her.

Today she slouched in through the door chewing gum and dragging her feet in untied trainers. Stopping next to the man, she let out a bored sigh while her eyes looked everywhere but at me. She wore a loose tee-shirt with a group’s name emblazoned on the front, her jeans gaped holes, far too many and in the wrong places for a young girl, while her long brown hair needed conditioning and styling or brushing thoroughly.

Lazy had been the best word to describe her attitude last week. Many schoolgirls trying their first job were surprised to learn it necessitated hard work. Being on your feet all day and at everyone’s beck and call was tiring and demanding. Chloe hadn’t liked it one bit.

As usual I tried to see the best in people and hoped training might change her into a useful Saturday assistant. Last week she pouted when asked to do a job, such as cleaning out a sink, sweeping up or fetching a coffee for a customer. However, I’d put her manner down to lack of experience, so I would have let Chloe come back this week, apart from the disturbing incident which occurred at the end of the