ELLIE
“He asked you to do what?”
Every fifth Friday, my friend Jessica makes the two-hour round trip to visit me at the salon, always my last appointment of the day and the reason is purely selfish: she won’t let anyone else wax her lady parts.
Jess is the best sort of friend. Low maintenance—we can go weeks without actively talking, but we just pick up where we left off. It’s drama free and ideal for both of us.
“I know—I couldn’t believe it either,” I say.
I’ve just finished her treatment and I’ve been steadily filling her in since she got here and saw the bouquet from the street, still dominating the window of the salon.
I’ve told her all about the mystery document, the visit I paid Greg, the trip I made to Mike’s apartment and the stuff online—minus the part about me starting a ‘#justiceforBettsy’ campaign and him spending the night.
I’ve just finished telling her the bit about Mike asking me if I can pretend to be his wife.
“And you said no?” she says, pulling on an old pair of leggings out of a small holdall she brought with her.
“Of course I did,” I say.
Jess straightens up and shakes them out before stepping into them.
“But why? I don’t understand.”
“You don’t understand why I would turn down the offer of pretending to be married to someone?”
“It’s not pretending though if you may actually be married,” she says.
I scowl. “That’s not what this is about. He’s using me for his image. ”
She scoffs. “Take that as a compliment. Where is your sense of fun? I’m just saying—you wouldn’t even think about it? Hell, I’ll do it!”
“You’re married,” I say.
“Well, yeah…” but Jess looks down at her pedicure as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world and when she lingers for longer than ten seconds, I know something’s up.
“Jess? What’s going on?” I ask.
She sighs, then tentatively raises her head to meet my eyes.
“I’m separated, but it’s … whatever.”
She says it in such a nonchalant tone, I wonder if I heard correctly.
“Excuse me?”
“Yeah, Phil and I are getting a divorce … but it’s no big deal. It’s clear that some things aren’t meant to be.”
“What happened?” I slump down on the tub chair in the corner of the treatment room while Jess works on the leggings.
“He’s a lazy ass who wants a mother, not a wife. I’m just annoyed I didn’t work it out until after we were married.”
“And that’s it?” I ask. “You’re done?”
“Yes. He tried begging. And he even cooked me a lasagne—from scratch. But I think I must have mentally checked out a long time ago because it made me feel sorry for him more than anything else. Too little, too late.”
I feel like a rock has been dropped in the pit of my stomach.
From the outside looking in, Jess and Phil were the epitome of a couple, happy and in love, much like my sister and Greg.
They were everything I was hoping for myself, because I’m a romantic at heart and I’m stuck on the idea that someday, someone will come and sweep me away.
Just like Phil did to Jess—or so I thought.
“Are you?—”
“I won’t change my mind. And now it’s awkward as hell because we’re still having to live together.
He won’t move out and I have nowhere to go, so …
until we can plan a way forward an d sell up or something, we’re stuck there.
The only good thing is that there’s a spare room, so we don’t have to share a bed—oh, and we don’t have children to consider. ”
Jess pulls on a hoodie and stuffs her work clothes into her bag while I stare at her, completely flabbergasted.
“But—”
Jess waves her hand, dismissing that part of the conversation.
“Forget about me and Phil. I’m still keen to know why you said no.”
“But you—I mean, are you okay?” I say.
“El, please—I don’t want to talk about it,” she snaps and the look she gives me tells me she won’t change her mind.
“Right, sorry,” I say.
“Well—like I said, I’m still keen to know why you said no.”
And just like that, she forces the direction of the conversation back to me.
“Why would I say yes?”
“Why wouldn’t you?” She throws her bag over her shoulder and straightens up. “I’m sorry to be blunt, but you’re living in Kathryn’s shadow. Practically running her salon … where is she now, El?”
“She’s out looking at wedding venues,” I shrug, actually grateful for her leaving early today.
“Yeah? But why is it up to you to stay here until eight? On a Friday night?”
“I’ve got clients,” I say.
“Your clients? Or ones Kathryn palmed off on to you? I’m going to say it, but you’re a glorified skivvy.
What happened to the Ellie who wanted to run her own show?
What happened to living your own life? I mean, imagine you say yes, and Mike introduces you to one of his friends and you meet someone who blows you away. ”
“I’m not sure that’s how it would work. I think I’d be needing to pretend to be with him, so it wouldn’t look good if I was trying to get with his friends. ”
“Okay, fine … but I mean, once it’s all over. Or—” She pauses, a creepy smile forming on her face. “What if you realise that you and Mike are meant to be together after all and this is one big love story I can live vicariously through you?”
The idea brings a chill to my spine. “I’m not sure?—”
“Or … I like this, hear me out… or maybe you can play him at his own game. Freak him out a little. Lay it on. Yanno, so when you attend these functions together … you could show up looking your best, flirt like hell with him, make him wish like he was really married to you, mess with him a little? Because if he’s anything like he used to be, he wouldn’t be expecting that, and I don’t think he’d know how to react. It’d be hilarious.”
“Or maybe I just say no and leave it at that.”
“Or maybe you live a little?”
Jess slips her coat on.
“I don’t know. It’s all a bit … much, I think.
We don’t even know if we are married. I’m waiting for him to check through his paperwork.
Besides, I think deep down I’m still upset about him not reaching out when he came back from Germany.
It’s like I didn’t even matter to him, but now, when it’s convenient for him, he’s interested. ”
“But he said he called you and he was told never to ring this number again?”
“Yeah, but he must have had the wrong number or something,” I shrug. “Still, he knew where I lived?—”
“Or Kathryn answered and told him to do one. It’s the sort of thing she’d do. God forbid you meet someone and can’t tend to her every waking call,” Jess says in a tone laced with sarcasm.
I gape at her. “Wh—do you think she’d do something like that?”
“I definitely think she’s capable. I mean, she’d have had to of had access to your phone and deleted messages or whatever.
Then she probably blocked his number or something—look, I don’t know but it’s possible.
Wasn’t she madly in love with Jeremy Betts at one point?
Maybe she figured ‘ If I can’t have Jeremy then Ellie can’t have Mike’ . ”
I feel wrapped in my naivety. Because there was a point, way back, when my charger went missing, and I’d had to leave my phone in Kathryn’s room while I used hers. I mean … what Jess is saying is possible, but she wouldn’t, would she?
“Now, are we going for dinner? Because I’m starving,” Jess says.
We head down the stairs to the main salon area, where I automatically head for the front door to take the lock off.
A habit I got into when working in the upstairs treatment room, when it’s just me.
But as I reach for the lock, a figure darkens the doorway and my heart stops as I come face to glass to face with Mike Betts.
“Oh, my God,” Jess says. “Speak of the devil … he’s aged well.”
I flash her a look of despair before turning back to the door, locking eyes with Mike, standing on the other side, grinning at me.
I take a breath and steady my hands as I twist the lock.
“You got my flowers, then,” he says, nodding to the window display.
I focus in on his scar—and his lips before I realise I’m staring.
“I—yes, thank you, but it won’t work,” I say.
“What? No. I don’t intend them as a bribe. Just an apology,” he says. “I was a dick. Simple. And I’m sorry.”
“Well, thanks but?—”
“Wow—it’s been a long time,” Jess says. “I feel inclined to say I hope you’re keeping yourself out of trouble, but from what I hear, you’ve been doing the opposite,” she says, coming to a stop behind me.
“Well, well. It has been a long time,” Mike says, narrowing his eyes. He takes a second of contemplation before he realises who my friend is. “How are you keeping, Jess? I can only assume Kitch has been filling you in. ”
“Well, I’m about to be divorced before I’ve hit thirty, but I guess you can’t have it all.”
“Oh, shit. Sorry to hear that. But at least we know where to come to for advice, right, Kitch?”
Mike flashes me a wink.
“See what I mean, Jess? This is all one big joke to him,” I say.
Jess grins. “Honestly, El, you need to lighten up. If you are married … you may as well ride the storm and have a little fun.” She looks at Mike. “For the record, I told her she needs to help you out. I mean—you’ll show her a good time, right? Treat her like the queen she is and all that?”
Mike, already grinning, widens his mouth. “Oh, you’ve been re-considering then, Kitch?”
“No,” I say, sternly. “Actually, I was asking Jess if she’d volunteer to be your fake-wife,” I lie.
“Why bargain for a fake one when you’re the real deal?” He does this thing with his eyebrows, causing my cheeks to flush red, betraying me.
“I was just telling Ellie that she should live a little. Do something outside of her comfort zone. Get out of Kathryn’s shadow.”
“You did not?—”
“Shush, El. But we’re just off out to dinner, so I have,” Jess looks at her watch, “at least three hours to convince her. I’m sure she’ll be in touch.”
I stare at Jess, waiting for her to break out into a smile, telling me she’s kidding, but she doesn’t. She’s shifted her attention to her phone instead.
“Ah, fuck,” Jess says under her breath as she taps at the screen furiously. “Why is he such a knob?”
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
She lets out a mammoth sized sigh. “Actually, I’m sorry, El, I probably need to dash. Phil’s gone and flooded the kitchen. Apparently, there’s a sock stuck in the washing machine pump and there’s water everywhere.” She holds her phone up to flash a photo of her kitchen floor.
“Oh, my—looks like a nightmare. Do you want me to come with you?” I ask.
“Oh, no. Don’t worry. I’ll just have to sacrifice my nice towels if Phil hasn’t already done so. Honestly, the sooner he moves out, the better.” She slips her phone away and pulls out her car keys. “Are you going to be okay?”
“I—yeah. Yeah, all fine. I think,” I turn to look at Mike.
“I’ll text you,” she says, slipping through the doorway and out onto the street.
And just like that, it’s only me and Mike.