Chapter 19
‘It seemed so ridiculous, I was living the kind of life everyone dreams of, but I just felt empty. And, like, physically empty too.’ Lizzie grimaced at the memory. ‘The studio bosses told my mum I was too podgy and needed to lose twenty pounds, so she was monitoring my food, watching me like a hawk. Which obviously made biscuits my reason for living, so I had to bribe my friend CJ to buy chocolate chip cookies and smuggle them up to my room. But I had to hide them in DVD cases, so she could only get ones that were thin enough to fit inside . . .’
She stopped, her train of thought derailed by what appeared to be happening at the other end of the video call. Cami always recorded their chats but also liked to make copious notes as they talked. A minute ago, though, she’d stopped writing in her notebook. Her head was bent low to conceal her face and her ribcage was shaking. As Lizzie watched, Cami surreptitiously wiped her left eye. Seconds later, with her thumb, she wiped the other one.
‘Are you OK?’ Lizzie’s selfish, actressy side was secretly thrilled to know that hearing what she’d been forced to endure at the age of seventeen had been touching enough to reduce Cami to tears. Then again, she hoped it didn’t mean Cami had suffered from an eating disorder herself. She said, ‘I promise you, I’m fine now! And I can have all the biscuits I want. Who cares if I’m a stone overweight?’
On the screen, Cami let out a howl and lifted her head so Lizzie could see her face. She was distraught and properly sobbing now, reaching for a crumpled tissue and mopping her eyes. Surely the story of the cookies in the DVD cases couldn’t make anyone that devastated?
‘Cami, what is it?’ Lizzie’s heart clenched in horror as the thought hit her that something terrible might have happened. ‘Is it the baby?’
Cami shook her head slowly from side to side. ‘N-no. Oh God, I’m sorry, this is so unprofessional. I thought I could do it, but I c-can’t . . .’
‘Tell me,’ Lizzie ordered. ‘Whatever it is, just say it.’ Someone must have died. Shit, please don’t let it be Boo, the little dog.
Visibly crumbling once more, Cami sobbed, ‘It’s S-Simon,’ and the options zapped through Lizzie’s brain like flash cards on fast forward: car accident, brain haemorrhage, murder – surely not – or a heart attack. And he couldn’t be over forty, what a tragedy.
‘He’s l-left me.’ Cami was trembling with the effort of containing herself. She cradled her bump and blurted out, ‘He doesn’t want either of us. Not me, and not the baby.’
‘No.’
‘Yes.’
‘He can’t do that.’
‘He c-can. He’s done it. He’s gone.’
Lizzie shook her head, so shocked she wasn’t able to take it in. Not Simon and Cami, it wasn’t possible.
‘But . . . why ?’
‘He says having a baby just isn’t his thing. He doesn’t want to be tied down. And I think he’s seeing someone else t-too.’
Bloody, bloody men.
‘You poor thing What a bastard. How dare he?’
‘I’m sorry, please don’t tell anyone at the publishing house about this. I shouldn’t be offloading onto a client. I’m just in such a state. I don’t know what to do or where to go. He wants me out by the weekend and—’
‘ What? ’ Lizzie’s voice rose in disbelief. ‘Are you joking? He can’t do that!’
‘This is his flat. I was sharing a place in Clerkenwell until I moved in with him six weeks ago, and I haven’t paid any rent here so he says I need to find somewhere else. But I don’t have anywhere to go.’
This was surreal, completely unbelievable. ‘He can’t kick you out.’
‘I said that. But he says if I don’t leave, he will. And there’s no way I can afford to pay the rent on this place.’
‘He’ll have to pay it! It’s his baby!’
‘He’s saying it’s not his. But it is.’ Cami wiped her hand over her face, visibly exhausted. ‘And he knows that. I just don’t know what to do. The way he was speaking to me, the things he was saying . . . It’s like he’s turned into a different person. I don’t even want to live here.’
Lizzie’s heart went out to her. ‘Do you have family you can go to? Friends?’
‘No family. Friends . . . well, I could probably stay on my best friend’s sofa, but she’s sharing with four other people, so it’s not ideal. It’s OK, I’ll find somewhere.’
‘Right, I’ll tell you what you can do. Pack your stuff and give me your address. I’m going to send a car to pick you up and bring you down here.’
More tears flowed down Cami’s cheeks. ‘You can’t do that.’
‘I think you’ll find I can.’ What Lizzie really wanted to do was go roaring up to London, track Simon down and rip his double-crossing head off.
‘But you don’t need to be landed with this kind of mess . . .’
‘Hey, stop it. You’ve seen this place, you can’t say I don’t have enough room.’
Cami crumbled completely. ‘Oh God, are you sure? Are you really sure? Last week I was telling my cousin in Canada how lovely you are, but this is just above and beyond. If you mean it, that would be such a help, just until I figure out where to go next.’
Lizzie wished she could hug her. One thing she’d learned over the years was that helping other people by donating money to deserving causes was a sure-fire way to get you feeling better about yourself. It lifted the spirits and gave you a warm glow. And this was along the same lines; if Cami wasn’t someone currently in need of a helping hand, she didn’t know who was.
And if it felt wrong to be doing something to cheer herself up rather than for the intended purpose of helping another person in real need . . . well, Cami didn’t have to know about that side of it.
‘Give me your address,’ she said firmly. ‘Can you be packed and ready in an hour?’
‘You’re an actual angel,’ said Cami. ‘I can be out of here in thirty minutes.’
Lizzie gave her a reassuring smile. ‘On your marks, get set, go.’
Three and a half hours later, the car crunched over the cream Cotswold gravel and pulled up outside the house. Lizzie had been pacing around like an expectant father for most of that time, but under the circumstances it seemed wise not to say that.
Instead, she helped her new lodger out of the back seat of the car and gave her as big a hug as she could manage with Cami’s beachball stomach in the way.
‘You’re going to be OK,’ she said. ‘Whatever happens, you can cope. You’ll be fine.’
‘I don’t believe you, but thanks.’ Cami was looking terrible, but managed a watery smile. ‘I’m usually a pretty strong person, but this has just knocked me for six. Plus I suppose my hormones have gone into overdrive. I thought we were so happy . . .’
‘ I thought you were so happy. It made me happy to know there were couples like you in the world. I still can’t believe he’s done this to you.’ Every time Lizzie thought about it, she was filled with fresh outrage. ‘Dammit, this is when I’d usually offer you a huge glass of wine and I can’t even do that. Anyway, let’s get you into the house.’
There were two suitcases and three heavy-duty bin bags. Lizzie and the driver carted them inside and up the main staircase, leaving them on the landing because Cami had yet to choose a room.
‘Poor kid,’ the driver murmured. ‘She’s devastated. It’s good of you to help her out.’
Lizzie shrugged, embarrassed. ‘Who wouldn’t?’
But there it was again, the shameful adrenalin rush of knowing she was making herself feel good by doing a nice thing for someone else.
She gave the driver an extra-large tip to assuage her guilt.
Once he’d left, she opened a bottle of Montepulciano and poured a glass for herself, then put together an orange juice and soda spritzer with ice for Cami, who was sitting at the kitchen table turning her phone over and over in her hand. When it suddenly rang, she jumped and almost dropped it on the floor.
‘It’s him. Maybe he’s changed his mind.’ She picked it up with shaking hands and said, ‘Yes?’ with so much hope in her voice that Lizzie winced on her behalf.
But Simon clearly hadn’t changed his mind. Whatever he said caused Cami’s face to fall. Feeling awkward, Lizzie mouthed, Shall I go? But Cami shook her head and grimly switched the phone to speaker.
‘I just got in and saw all your things have gone. So does that mean you definitely won’t be back?’ The friendly voice had vanished. His tone was brusque and cold.
‘I definitely won’t be back.’ Cami closed her eyes, but tears escaped anyway, sliding down her cheeks.
‘Where are you?’
‘What do you care?’
‘I’m not a monster, Cam. I need to know you’re OK.’ The voice was still cold.
‘I’m obviously not OK.’ The words caught in her throat. ‘How can I be? My world’s fallen apart.’
‘Now you’re being melodramatic. What do you want me to do? I tried to go along with it for your sake, for weeks , but you can’t expect me to live a lie and pretend to be happy when I’m not. I don’t want that life . . . nappies and no sleep and never being able to go anywhere or do anything fun.’
‘Babies can be fun,’ Cami protested.
‘They’re not, though. Look, sorry, but endless puking and screaming isn’t my idea of a good time. You were the one who wanted it.’ His tone was dismissive. ‘Well, now it’s all yours.’
Was he for real? It was all Lizzie could do not to launch herself into the phone so she could rip off his head and his dick. The way he said sorry without being remotely sorry filled her with rage. This, this was why some men could never be trusted. You might think they were perfect and the answer to all your hopes and dreams, but the perfection was nothing more than a bewilderingly convincing shell.
The other evening, sitting outside the pub, she’d been happily lusting after Nick Callaghan and fantasising that he could be the one for her, but how could she know for sure that he wouldn’t turn out to be as selfish and as much of a pig as Simon?
‘You’ve got your apartment back,’ Cami was saying into the phone. ‘I hope you’ll be happy there.’ Glancing up and seeing the WTF? expression on Lizzie’s face, she amended, ‘Actually, no, I don’t want you to be happy, I hope you’ll be totally miserable. With any luck the roof will be blown off in a storm and land on your precious car.’
‘Now you’re being childish.’ Simon’s tone was disparaging.
‘Am I? Am I really? Oh dear, I’m so sorry. Fancy me being childish when I’ve just been left high and dry with my life in tatters.’ Interestingly, Lizzie noticed, the tears had stopped now; Cami’s spine had straightened, a muscle was jumping in her jaw and she was sounding more in control of herself. ‘And I’m guessing you’ve been seeing someone else.’
‘I haven’t. But even if I have, it’s none of your business. Where are you staying anyway?’
‘That’s none of your business.’
‘You took my charger cable and it doesn’t even fit your laptop. Tell me where you are and I’ll come and collect it. I need it tonight.’
Cami rose to her feet, unzipped her navy shoulder bag and took out the charger cable. Crossing to the kitchen drawers, she opened them in turn until she found a pair of scissors, then sliced the cable – snip snip snip – into four pieces. Into the phone she said, ‘Oh dear, did you hear that? It appears to be broken, what a shame.’
Simon, his manner icy, snapped, ‘You’re pathetic,’ and hung up.
Cami surveyed the sections of cable on the kitchen island. ‘If only these were his testicles.’
‘What a bastard.’ Lizzie was still feeling murderous on her behalf. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘I’m actually embarrassed that I was ever gullible enough to think he was a good person.’
‘Don’t be. We’ve all done it.’
‘I suppose the real trick is to find out before you get knocked up.’ Cami shook her head, then gave her bump a reassuring pat. ‘Don’t worry, baby. We’ll be fine. His loss.’
‘You’ve stopped crying,’ Lizzie observed.
‘He’s not worth it. I’ve got the crying out of the way now.’ She saw the sceptical look on Lizzie’s face and added, ‘I mean it. Don’t you believe me?’
‘It’s a big statement to make. You don’t have to hide how you feel.’
Cami sat back down, laced her fingers together and rested them on the table in front of her. ‘When I was eight years old, my mum left. Walked out on us,’ she said simply. ‘One morning she gave me a kiss and a letter to hand to my dad when he woke up. That was the last time I saw her. I cried my eyes out for a day, then Dad told me to stop because it was driving him mad. So I stopped.’
Appalled, Lizzie said, ‘You never saw her again?’
‘Never. She ran off with some guy she’d met in the betting shop where she was working at the time. They went to live in Norfolk, apparently. Then once the divorce came through, they moved away to somewhere hot – Greece or Cyprus – and that was it.’ Her eyelids were still puffy and swollen, but she managed a grim smile. ‘Who knows where they are now? But I never want to see her again anyway.’
‘Oh Cami.’ Lizzie’s heart went out to her. And to think she’d been whining about her own difficult times, complaining because her mum had tried to stop her eating biscuits. At least she had – and still had – a mother.
‘So you see, I’m used to being abandoned.’ Cami’s left hand was still cradling her bump. ‘We managed then. And I’ll manage now.’
Lizzie hardly dared ask. ‘Is your dad still . . .?’
‘Around? No. He died five years ago of a heart attack. But he was great, and I know he didn’t mean to abandon me.’ Wryly she said, ‘He would definitely have stayed if he could.’
‘You’re amazing.’ Lizzie shook her head in admiration. ‘And I’m here for you. We’re going to get you through this.’ Desperate to do something constructive, she blurted out, ‘I have eggs! I could make you an omelette!’
Well, she could give it a try.
But Cami was already suppressing a yawn. ‘Actually, I didn’t get any sleep last night and I’m absolutely shattered. If it’s OK, could I head up to bed for a bit? Then later we need to get back to work.’
‘Come on! Don’t even think about it. Give yourself a break, for heaven’s sake.’
‘No. We have a deadline and we need to stick to the schedule. No more crying,’ Cami said firmly. ‘We’re going to carry on and get the job done. Plus,’ she added as an afterthought, ‘you told me what happened the other day, so if anyone’s going to be making omelettes in this house, I think it’ll be safer if it’s me.’