The Payback Plan

In the Beginning

IN THE BEGINNING

CHICAGO, O’HARE AIRPORT, 21 DECEMBER

Paige Barker had been pissed off for four years. Getting snowed in at O’Hare with thousands of other disgruntled holiday travellers just before Christmas and on her birthday was the cherry on top of a life so derailed she might as well be the Fat Controller.

Happy freaking twenty-fifth.

She glared at the departure boards all stubbornly flashing delayed – no shit, Sherlock – and then through the large floor-to-ceiling windows festooned with garlands and red holly berries, to the runways. Or what she could see of them through the biblical-ass storm.

The irony of Dean Martin crooning ‘Let It Snow’ through the PA system right now almost made her laugh. But she was too damn mad for that. She was stuck here for who knew how long with the roads too hazardous to check into a nearby hotel and no taxis to be had anyway. Also, she wanted to be on site the second the runways opened to make sure she was on the first flight to London.

Or any UK destination really. Hell, she’d take Shetland if it was all she could get. She’d promised her mother she’d be home for Christmas.

And if that meant she had to aimlessly wander the halls for days existing on ridiculously expensive airport food and booze, then she would. And when that all ran out, which she supposed was entirely possible if the storm dragged on, she had three packets of Oreos stashed in her bag and plenty of pounds between her and starvation. She also had panty-liners and toothpaste.

Eat your heart out, Bear Grylls.

What she needed now was a drink. Or John McClane to burst in and kick Snowmaggedon’s ass. Given that was unlikely, she’d settle for the drink. Although where in hell she’d find a table when every other person in O’Hare had the same idea, she had no clue.

‘Ten per cent off at Just Desserts.’

Paige stopped glowering at the windows to find a stocky woman with pink cheeks, sparkly eyes and fluffy, flyaway magenta hair offering her a flyer. Her voice crackled like an old record but her accent was pure New York.

‘Oh no, thank you,’ Paige said, her accent becoming painfully British, as she warded off the proffered piece of paper. ‘I doubt I’ll be able to get a seat anywhere at the moment.’

The woman smiled beatifically. ‘You could be lucky.’

Paige snorted. Luck. She swore she must have broken a mirror, walked under a ladder and crossed the path of a black cat several times in a previous life. ‘I doubt it.’

Undeterred, the woman offered the flyer again. ‘You never know.’

For reasons she couldn’t explain, Paige took it, earning herself another beatific smile. ‘It’s just around the corner,’ she said before turning away and disappearing into the crowds.

Paige glanced at the pretty pink flyer featuring pretty drinks with pretty umbrellas and pretty calorie-dense desserts. At ten in the morning it was way too early to be indulging in either but airports were like casinos – time was amorphous. And her mouth was watering.

Cocktails and cakes didn’t make up for a lengthy delay or the pervasive inertia that had stalled her life for so long now but they did make her feel less stabby. And besides, if she was stuck here for days and all the food ran out, she should probably carb load.

* * *

It took Paige five minutes to reach Just Desserts which was as eye-wateringly pink as the leaflet. It was a huge place that spanned the width of the central aisle separating two parallel thoroughfares and had multiple entrances. It was also crowded but, right there, in the centre of the restaurant, was one spare, round table with four chairs.

A waiter was withdrawing after just having wiped it down and it shone under the bright lights like a Taylor Swift arena, beckoning her inside. She half expected to hear a choir of freaking angels.

Huh. Maybe her luck was turning.

Scurrying to the table, her eyes never leaving the prize, Paige reached her chair just as another woman skidded in to claim the opposite one, careening – crotch first – into the back.

Maybe not .

‘Fuckity-fuck!’

Paige blinked as the woman – a fellow Brit – recovered from a landing that would have crippled a man. She was about to ask her if she was okay but was interrupted by a third woman claiming the chair to one side with a puffed little whoop. A fourth, coming in hot from a different direction, laid claim to the last spot at the table.

For a moment none of them said anything as they all eyed the table like a quartet of single bridesmaids might eye a tossed wedding bouquet, but then Paige noticed each woman was clutching a pink leaflet. Just like her.

‘If none of you are with anyone else,’ she said tentatively, ‘we could share?’

There was an immediate round of relieved sighs and big smiles as chairs scraped and everyone settled in, hanging coats over chair backs and stashing bags on the floor.

A quick round of introductions was undertaken. Bella, to her right, was a poised American with a sleek blonde updo. Astrid, sitting opposite, was a somewhat less poised brunette with knockout locks which Paige, as a frizzy ginger, wanted to chop off and keep.

In a non-serial killer way.

Sienna, to her left, another American, was a honey-blonde with big blue eyes. Dressed in her usual monochrome palate her curls mostly still contained in a twist at her nape, Paige felt decidedly dowdy.

A waitress appeared at their side asking them if they were ready to order a drink. They all glanced around tentatively for long beats. ‘Would you think me a terrible lush if I got a glass of prosecco?’ Paige finally asked.

It shouldn’t matter what three random strangers at an airport thought of her but the fact they’d all found the one free table in the entire café, possibly the entire concourse, and were all in possession of the same leaflet, made their meeting feel somehow more ordained.

‘Oh God no,’ Sienna said on a relieved sigh. ‘I hate flying and waiting around in airports even more. Let’s get a bottle. I’ll help you.’

‘I’ll have a glass,’ Bella told the waitress. ‘And some water for the table, please.’

Astrid glanced at the wall of clocks mounted above the bar, each displaying times from different capital cities around the world. ‘It’s five o’clock in Berlin.’ She smiled at the waitress. ‘Make it four.’

And suddenly Paige didn’t feel stabby at all.

* * *

Two hours, two bottles of prosecco, two cocktails and two desserts (each) later, the four of them had settled in, riding the buzz. People came and went around them but they chatted easily in the way of people who have known each other for a long time – not two hours. Nothing particularly personal. Just about where they were from and their jobs and their holiday plans. They talked about the best way to cook a turkey and the most exciting place they’d travelled and checked out each other’s socials.

‘I can’t believe you have your own VA business,’ Astrid mused as she scrolled Paige’s business account on Instagram. ‘That’s awesome.’

Paige shrugged, being a virtual assistant wasn’t what she’d planned for her life and it wasn’t making her rich but it paid the bills. ‘Thanks.’

‘So, you don’t have an office or anything?’

‘Nope.’ Paige shook her head. ‘I actually house-sit for people so I move around a lot and the nature of my business means I can work from wherever I am. Have laptop, will travel.’ She tapped her bag where the item in question was stashed, injecting a note of cheer she didn’t feel about her nomadic lifestyle, which was more about living within her means and avoiding permanence and roots than choice.

‘Is it why you’re in the US? Work?’

‘No. I was at a wedding in Chicago.’

‘Oh, how lovely.’ Sienna smiled softly, her voice a little dreamy. ‘How was it?’

‘You know. Pavlova dress. Drunken best man’s speech. Smooshing cake into each other’s faces. A handsy Uncle Chip.’

Bella downed the remainder of her glass before scraping up the last crumbs of her two slices of red velvet cake, which she’d pronounced to be the best cake in the history of cake. ‘I’d rather not talk about weddings.’

Paige raised an eyebrow. ‘Not a fan?’

‘Absolutely not.’

‘Don’t believe in love?’

‘I did. And then six months ago I stood up in front of 400 guests to let them know that my groom wasn’t coming.’

Their combined gasp was enough to turn heads at nearby tables. ‘Holy mother of…’ Astrid spluttered as she clutched Bella’s forearm. ‘You were jilted?’

‘Yup. By text. The morning of.’

‘By text ?’ Astrid’s mouth flattened. ‘What kind of scumbag does that?’

Sienna, no longer dreamy and clearly affronted on Bella’s behalf, demanded, ‘Who is he? Tell me. I’ll bring you his head.’

Everyone laughed but actually it felt very much like alcohol, carbs, a blizzard and that strange anonymity of a major international airport had heightened their fast friendship to this ride-or-die zenith. Sienna certainly seemed as if she was ready to go all crazy ex-girlfriend on Bella’s wayward ex-fiancé.

‘He’s not a bad person really, he just did a bad thing. He’s coasted through life with everything handed to him on a silver platter. He was a bit of a… Peter Pan. Commitment wasn’t his strong suit and I made the classic mistake of thinking that it would be different with me. That I could change him.’

‘Doesn’t excuse him leaving you standing at the altar,’ Sienna said much more gently, despite the murder in her eyes.

‘Via text ,’ Astrid repeated, clearly still outraged.

‘No, it doesn’t. That was truly a low act.’

Sienna nodded. ‘Yes, it was.’

‘Well,’ Astrid announced, ‘you can string mine up.’

‘Were you jilted as well?’ Sienna’s big blue eyes blazed white-hot indignation.

‘No.’ Astrid gulped down her fizz, her green eyes sparking. ‘Unbeknownst to me, he’d already trotted up that aisle and merrily said “I do” to someone else.’

‘So…’ Bella’s eyes widened. ‘He turned you into the other woman?’

‘Too right he did. Made me feel like a piece of shit.’

Sienna shook her head, her full, pink lips flattening into a line of sheer outrage. ‘Are you freaking kidding me? He was already married?’

Astrid confirmed with a nod of her head. ‘He’s an artist too. All about creating the feels in people… Chase Miller can give you the feels alright. The kind you want F all to do with. Believe me.’

‘Chase Miller?’ Bella blinked, surprise in her voice as if she knew the name. And then, as if that piece of info had pushed her last button, she demanded, ‘What is wrong with these men? Doesn’t marriage mean anything any more?’

‘I don’t think men get the concept of commitment,’ Sienna mused. ‘Even the ones who seem to get it are just faking it.’ The observation earned an enquiring look from all three. ‘Sorry.’ She laughed brittlely. ‘That’s a little dramatic, isn’t it?’

Bella leaned closer. ‘What happened?’ she prompted, her tone solicitous, encouraging.

‘My ex kind of just… discarded me. It wasn’t like some big, dramatic break up. I didn’t even get the chance to throw plates.’ She waved a hand in the air, as if to dismiss it all but sadness cloaked her words. ‘I mean, we were just kids but we were each other’s firsts, you know? And I thought we were going to have a life together but he hightailed it out of town without a backward glance. Like nothing we had mattered.’

Bella reached across to squeeze Sienna’s hand. ‘I’m so sorry. That’s terrible.’

‘Sucks ass,’ Astrid concurred into her glass.

After a few moments of silent enraged solidarity passed between them all, Sienna raised an eyebrow at Paige. ‘Can I bring you anyone’s head?’

Paige gave a half laugh and prepared to deflect but then surprised herself by how much she suddenly wanted to tell these women she barely knew her big ugly thing. Maybe they were misting the air in O’Hare with Valium to keep everyone calm or maybe it was precisely because they were strangers it made the telling easier.

‘I broke up with my ex, Harvey, after a brief, intense relationship and then he… posted naked pictures and videos of me online. He’d taken them without my knowledge or consent.’

If the gasp for Bella had been loud, this gasp swivelled every head in the café. ‘Revenge porn?’ Sienna hissed in disgust.

Paige nodded. It was as shocking now as it had been back then, sucker punching her all over again. ‘I’ve never felt so degraded .’ Her gaze dropped to the table; she still found it difficult to meet people’s eyes when thinking about those images. ‘I met him at Oxford. He was studying IT and I was a third-year law student. It completely ruined my future career prospects. No prestigious law firm was going to take me on after that. Hell, not even a terrible law firm would. And I couldn’t bear staying on at Oxford, where everyone had seen the pictures. So I…’ She shrugged as she raised her eyes. ‘Dropped out.’

‘What a bastard,’ Bella stated, stumbling slightly over the curse as if she didn’t use it that often.

‘Absolute bastard ,’ Sienna agreed with no stumbling, her lips a furious line. ‘What’s he doing now, do you know?’

‘He’s some kind of tech bro. Travels between London and Silicon Valley.’

Sienna rolled her eyes. ‘Of course he is.’

For a moment everyone was quiet as they studied the clutter of glassware on the table. Paige wasn’t sure if the others were considering their combined catastrophically awful taste in men, but she certainly was.

‘They shouldn’t be allowed to get away with it,’ Sienna said eventually.

Astrid slapped her glass down, prosecco sloshing. ‘Damn right they shouldn’t.’

Sienna glanced around the circle and leaned in a little. Everyone followed suit. ‘What if we… Look I know this sounds crazy and I may be a little drunk.’ As if to underscore this, she hiccupped which caused a round of laughter before she got back on track. ‘What if we… took it upon ourselves to exact some… revenge?’

Bella frowned. ‘How do you mean?’

‘I don’t mean murdering them or anything.’ She waved a dismissive hand. ‘I mean… look, these guys have had everything go their way, right? They got to walk all over us. Or walk out on us,’ she added with a grimace. ‘Why should they just get to live their best lives while we’re picking up the remnants of ours?’

‘Yes.’ Astrid’s eyes were as effervescent as the fizz. ‘I like where this is heading.’

‘Why not have a little fun at their expense?’ Sienna continued.

‘What kind of fun?’ Bella asked warily.

‘Nothing serious,’ Sienna assured. ‘Stuff that would inconvenience them. That we could have a laugh over. Like…’ She paused as if searching for a precise kind of punishment. ‘Signing them up to hundreds of mailing lists. Or putting a dead fish in their wheel hubs. Buy them a cow and have it delivered. Switch out their clothes for a size or two smaller. Change all the names in their phone contacts to Dr Seuss. That kind of thing.’

Three sets of eyes blinked at Sienna. ‘Wow,’ Paige murmured, impressed. ‘Remind me to never get on your bad side.’

Bella leaned in closer. ‘Some of those things would require us to get close,’ she said, almost at a whisper. ‘They’ll know it was us. There’s no way we’d get away with it.’

Sienna smiled triumphantly. ‘That’s why we pick someone else’s ex.’

The circle went quiet as they contemplated the idea and then Astrid murmured, ‘It’s an excellent plan. So good, I wish I’d thought of it.’

‘Me too,’ Bella admitted. ‘Very Machiavellian.’

Paige was rather taken by the idea, as well. She knew she should just be drawing a line underneath the Harvey chapter in her life but screw that. Four years later she was still just treading water, stuck in a life she hadn’t planned on, too scared to take any kind of risk.

And why should he get off scot-free?

‘Okay.’ She nodded cautiously, her law studies making her a little leery. ‘Maybe.’

‘Who would you pick?’ Astrid asked Sienna.

Sienna snorted. ‘Harvey the horrible. If he spends time regularly in the US I’m sure I’ll be able to figure out something. You?’

Astrid didn’t hesitate. ‘I’d take your heartbreaker. Any guy who’d just walk out on a sweetheart like you deserves to be played a little.’

‘And I’d take your cheating, married, bastard ex,’ Bella declared, apparently finally comfortable with the word. ‘Which leaves you with Olly.’ She honed in on Paige. ‘And that’s perfect because he slunk back to England after the wedding. To his dad’s place in Cornwall. How’s your sitting schedule for the new year?’

‘I have a few things lined up in Jan/Feb that aren’t set in stone. I have a month-long gig in Edinburgh starting March.’

So she could go to Cornwall. Despite the inherent inadvisability of hatching a revenge plan with strangers while snowed in and tipsy at an international airport, Paige had the inklings of a plan.

‘Is the place big enough for two?’ she asked. Obviously the closer the proximity the easier it would be to mess with Olly.

‘Yes!’ Bella confirmed. ‘It’s very spacious and right on the beach.’

Now that sounded ideal. After all this freaking snow, sand appealed. Even if it did always manage to get into places not even a board-certified gynaecologist could access.

‘How would he feel about a guest?’

A slow smile lit Bella’s face. ‘He’s does like his privacy.’

‘I know exactly how he feels,’ Paige murmured.

Which was a sobering thought. Was this really a good decision to be making high on pink drinks and even pinker desserts? Her boozy angels were screaming yes, her wiser angels were being more circumspect.

They could be a real freaking drag.

‘I don’t know…’ Paige glanced around the group. ‘Are we really going to do this? Maybe it’s just the alcohol talking?’

‘Good point,’ Bella agreed, chewing on her bottom lip.

‘Well, I sure as hell am,’ Astrid confirmed. ‘I don’t know about you, but I’ll sleep a little better knowing Horrible Harvey is getting his comeuppance.’

Yeah, Paige would, too.

‘Look, this only works if we all agree,’ Sienna said, suddenly serious. ‘And nobody should feel pressured into doing it if it doesn’t sit right.’

Bella placed her glass on the table. ‘Definitely.’

‘God, fuck yes.’ Astrid appeared to gear down her enthusiasm. ‘The last thing I want to do is browbeat my new co-conspirators. Sorry… besties .’

They all laughed but the idea was becoming more attractive. What was the harm in creating a little mischief for these men? For too long, too many men had been allowed to get away with stuff. Maybe they owed womankind a little cosmic rebalancing?

‘I do love a cream tea,’ Paige admitted. And a pasty. She glanced at Bella. ‘I’d be safe there?’

‘Definitely,’ Bella hastened to assure. ‘For all his commitment-phobe tendencies, he’s a true gentleman. Painfully polite in that very English way. And I know he feels terribly guilty about the jilting. Which I’m perfectly okay exploiting to get you in there. I still have his number.’

‘Oh yes,’ Astrid enthused. ‘That’s a great plan. You could text him now.’ She glanced at the clocks on the wall. ‘It’s six in the evening over there.’

An introduction would certainly help. And yet Paige still felt a little unsure.

‘Look. How about this?’ suggested Sienna who was clearly in tune with Paige’s hesitancy. ‘What if Bella texts and then we leave it up to the universe?’

Astrid frowned. ‘The universe?’

‘Yes, you know, fate. Kismet . If he texts back while we’re all still sitting here at this table we randomly ended up at, then it’s a go. If he doesn’t? We’ve all had a laugh and filled in a few hours. No harm no foul.’

‘Ooh.’ Astrid nodded vigorously. ‘I like that.’

‘Me too,’ Bella agreed.

So did Paige. ‘Okay… yeah.’ She nodded definitively. ‘Okay.’

With everyone agreed, Bella took out her phone. ‘Olly,’ she read off as her fingers flew across the screen. ‘A friend of mine needs a place to stay in Cornwall for a bit in the New Year.’ Her fingers stopped as she considered her next words. ‘She’s very nice and won’t bother you. You have room and you owe me.’ Hitting send, she placed the phone on the table. ‘Done.’

The die was now well and truly cast.

For the first time since their meeting, everyone was absolutely still as they stared at the device as if it was the Charlie’s Angels’ speakerphone. When an incoming text chimed almost immediately, they all startled.

Bella opened the text and read aloud, ‘Is she a Roger Prendergast groupie?’

Paige frowned. ‘The actor? That died a little while ago?’

‘Yep.’ Bella nodded. ‘Roger was his dad.’

‘Oh.’ Roger Prendergast was a famed Shakespearian actor who had made the move from stage to screen seamlessly and won at least one Oscar that she could recall. She supposed she should be impressed and maybe she was, a little. But famous or not, it didn’t change the fact his son was an asshole ‘No. My movie tastes run more along the lines of campy superhero than Hamlet.’

Bella laughed but sent the reply. The response was lightning fast again and Paige watched as Bella’s eyes moved across the screen. ‘He says fine.’

Fine. Just like that. She was going to Cornwall to live in the house of a famous dead British actor to mess up his son’s charmed life. She certainly hadn’t had that on her bingo card for next year.

But, the universe had spoken.

Paige looked around the table at the expectant women. She hadn’t trusted anyone in four years and yet she felt more connected to these women, these spurned women, than she’d felt to anyone in a very long time.

‘Okay then.’ She nodded. ‘Looks like I’m off to Cornwall.’

Sienna whooped and held up four fingers to a passing waiter who promptly delivered four bubbling glasses of prosecco. The PA was playing ‘Last Christmas’ as they lifted their glasses in a toast. ‘To just desserts,’ Astrid declared and they tapped glasses.

‘Now,’ Paige said, ‘tell me more about this Olly.’