Chapter 3
By Saturday morning, Poppy was exhausted. Sleep had come in short, broken bursts, her mind refusing to switch off. The adrenaline that had carried her through the previous forty-eight hours had burned itself away, leaving behind a dull and draining tiredness that sleep hadn’t touched.
She lay in bed for longer than usual, staring at the dated Artex swirls on the ceiling and listening to the sounds of the street below: cars passing, a neighbour’s door slamming, kids laughing as they walked by. All the signs of ordinary life continuing without her.
Out of habit, she started to reach for her phone, then quickly stopped herself. There was no point looking at social media. She already knew what she would find.
Instead, she forced herself to get up, and after showering and dressing, she made coffee that she barely tasted.
Mostly, she loved the solitude of her flat, but this morning it was too quiet – almost suffocatingly so.
To try to banish the silence, she turned on the radio for company and attempted to sort her day.
Normally, she would work for a couple of hours on a Saturday morning, then head out either for a walk or sometimes to meet friends for lunch. There were no plans for today, though, and she was glad. She was too distracted and wouldn’t be good company.
Forcing herself to open her laptop, she stared at the screen and willed herself to work, but nothing came. After twenty minutes of blinking at the manuscript, she closed it again. Instead, she grabbed her jacket.
Outside, the air was cool and sharp. Autumn had crept in properly now and leaves were slick on the pavement, while the sky was a bleak and depressing grey.
It did nothing to help her mood, and she walked with no destination in mind, her hands shoved deep in her pockets, letting her feet carry her through the familiar streets.
She thought about the authors she was supposed to be editing for next week. About the invoices she hadn’t yet sent. And about the one-star reviews sitting like a stain on her website. Mostly, though, she tried to think about anything other than Simon Daley.
As she went to walk past a cafe she occasionally stopped at, she paused, the smell of freshly ground coffee enticing her inside. She ordered one, taking a corner table where she could watch people from the window, all of them wrapped up in their own lives.
Had any of their worlds imploded like hers had?
Her phone buzzed on the table and she glanced at the screen, seeing she had a message from Keira.
I’m coming over this afternoon. Don’t argue.
Poppy managed a smile and typed back a single thumbs-up.
Keira showed up about half an hour after Poppy had arrived back at her flat, sunglasses that she didn’t need today pushed up into her hair and takeaway bags swinging from her wrists.
‘Kebabs?’ Poppy questioned, the aroma filling the hallway and making her empty stomach rumble.
‘Only the best for my girl.’ Keira grinned, kicking the door shut behind her. ‘You look like hell,’ she added affectionately.
‘Thanks. You always know what to say.’
They ate cross-legged on the sofa, straight from the cardboard boxes, Keira doing most of the talking – about work, about Greg, about a woman at her new job who had microwaved fish and stunk the whole office out.
Poppy listened, grateful for the normality and for the noise filling her flat.
Eventually, though, the conversation circled back to her online fallout.
‘You can’t keep reading it all,’ Keira told her, when Poppy confessed she had snuck on Facebook before Keira had arrived. ‘It’ll eat you alive.’
‘I know.’ Poppy dunked a chip in sauce, surprised at quite how hungry she was. She swallowed her mouthful. ‘I just keep thinking… what if it doesn’t stop?’
Keira was quiet for a moment. ‘Then you stop it. Step back for a bit.’
‘From my job?’
‘Yes. I don’t mean permanently but take a break. A proper one.’
‘And do what?’ Poppy asked hesitantly.
‘I don’t know. Get away from here, from this flat. Maybe go somewhere nice for a week.’
As tempting an idea as it was, it felt unprofessional and a little bit cowardly, like she would be running away from the situation. Still, Keira’s suggestion stayed with her long after her friend had left.
Poppy tidied the flat, more out of habit than necessity, and when there was nothing left to straighten or clear away, she sat down on the sofa with her phone and opened her banking app.
She had savings, but was it irresponsible to use them when she had no idea how this whole Simon situation was going to play out?
But Keira was right. Things weren’t healthy for her right now. If she could just press pause while she refreshed, it would probably do her the world of good. She didn’t have to pick anywhere expensive.
Her phone buzzed again, and she glanced at the screen expecting Keira again, but was pleasantly surprised when it was Tom.
How are you holding up today?
She hesitated before replying, deciding to be honest with him.
Still a bit shell-shocked, but better. Thank you for checking in.
His reply came almost immediately.
Any time. Try to be kind to yourself, Pops. And remember, none of this was your fault. I’m here if you need me.
His words meant a lot. She told him:
I really appreciate that.
He was right, and so was Keira. She should be kind to herself, and she did deserve to take a break. Perhaps she could do a spa resort. Or maybe she should go to the coast. Margate or Brighton were both nice, even if it was a bit cold.
She googled accommodation, realising that if she wanted a decent hotel or Airbnb, it was going to cost her as much as going abroad.
Was that a possibility, a cheap flight somewhere?
She did a search, wanting to see what was available, not looking for any particular destination, instead focusing on dates and prices.
After a few minutes, she closed the tab without booking anything.
There were a few possibilities, but she didn’t need to decide anything right this minute.
Just that quiet reassurance that she had options if she wanted them helped to soothe her, as did the reminder that the world was bigger than her flat.
If she decided she wanted to leave, then she could.