Chapter Twenty-eight
Twenty-eight
I was so happy to get home, I could’ve cried.
The London leg of the journey had been gruelling, and I felt like a human husk when I eventually arrived back in Camden Town.
I’d been on endless escalators in Victoria station, wedged myself onto two sweaty tubes, then walked the final ten minutes to my flat.
I’d have been back hours ago if I’d accepted Leo’s offer, but I’d chosen my principles over a free ride and exhausted myself in the process.
Every part of me ached: my bones, my head, and most importantly my heart…
and my social battery was flashing red as I pushed my front door open.
Home sweet home. My bedsit was enormous compared to the cruise-ship cabin I’d grown accustomed to, and as I kicked off my shoes and threw my keys in the coconut shell, it was like I’d never been away.
My flat was painted in four shades of yellow, so it always felt warm when I arrived home, like a queen bee hanging in the hive – or more realistically, a weary worker bee bringing home a pouch full of honey.
There were evergreen flowers in every vase, and I had two different Lego bunches in the ‘lounge’, a bouquet of metal roses in the kitchen nook and a paper daisy chain in loops across the window.
I’d wanted to fill the place with flowers that would last. Space was at a premium, and I’d done my best to be clever with what went where, but really that just meant everything was out on display.
Dressing gowns on hooks with slippers in the pockets, saucepans and kitchen gadgets hanging from the ceiling, a cheese grater, a colander and a spatula tied together on one piece of string.
Necklaces on every doorknob and my long dresses either end of the curtain poles.
Wherever you were in the flat, you could pretty much see all of my possessions at once and it was lovely to be surrounded by it all again.
My double bed was the ultimate space-saver, folded back against the wall when not in use, pinning my duvet and pillows in place.
I pulled it down and jumped on it, staring up at the plastic stars on the ceiling and glad to be back in my own space.
The sheets had been sprayed with lavender sleep mist, and I felt my body sink into the duvet as I inhaled its soft smell.
I closed my eyes for thirty seconds… and woke up three hours later.
Mum: Are you home?
Mum: Well?
Missed call: Mum.
Mum: Call me please. You should be back by now.
Missed call: Dad.
Eek. I dialled Mum with one eye open; the lavender had knocked me for six.
‘Kat?’ she shouted. ‘Don’t ever do that to me again! It is you, isn’t it? Kat? Kat?’
‘Yes, it’s me! If you’ll let me get a word in. Sorry, I fell asleep.’
‘I’m not surprised; you must be exhausted. Have a bath and go back to bed.’
‘I need to unpack and do my washing,’ I mumbled, eyeing my suitcase by the front door where I left it.
‘Leave all that for tomorrow – you can take your time then, rather than rushing to do it in between sleeps. You need a tech-free duvet day to get yourself organised.’
‘There’s nothing tech-free about the office.’
‘You’re not going in tomorrow, surely? You’ve only just got back!’
I let out a deep sigh. If only. Heidi would expect me in the office first thing, on my A-game and brimming with ideas, so there was no time for any rest and recovery.
‘Of course I am, Mum – that’s how work, works, isn’t it?’
‘That place is ridiculous. They work you like a dog. You should have two weeks off in lieu by law for the time you’ve been away; the least she can do is give you a day to recover.’
‘And pigs might fly.’
‘Well, do a power hour now, then go to bed for twelve hours. The duvet day will have to be a duvet weekend once Heidi’s had her money’s worth.’
The air was stifling and I felt hot and sticky.
I ignored my body screaming at me to let it snuggle down and got in the shower, turning the water cool and washing my hair.
This was London life – keep on keeping on.
Mum was right; I could sleep at the weekend – if Heidi didn’t have us all in working on the pitch.
I put my pyjama shorts on in front of the fan and tied my hair in a high pony.
London was hotter than Lisbon and I was missing the sea breeze on my body.
I knew if I got back into bed then that would be it until morning, so I flicked on the radio and cranked it up loud to keep myself awake.
The flat needed freshening up and re-energising so I threw open the windows to get some air circulating, then watered the row of thirsty herb plants on the window ledge.
They had miraculously survived two weeks without me, just about, and the smell of rosemary and basil was comforting as I pulled off the dead leaves and left space for the others to grow.
The great thing about a bedsit was you could do most things from one spot.
I watched the fish zoom around with excitement as I sprinkled over a pinch of flakes, their tiny mouths open and hungry.
Funny to think these golden dots had come from the same ocean as the humpback whales.
Would they be happier in the wild, or didn’t they know the difference?
These pampered goldfish wouldn’t last five minutes out there.
My sea legs and sea stomach were wobbly from being on the ship, and my head was scrambled.
How could I possibly go to work tomorrow and be in any state to contribute creative energy when I felt like this?
I needed to get my balance back – in all areas – and everything felt so confusing.
Leo had looked genuinely hurt as the taxi pulled away and I couldn’t get his sad eyes out of my mind.
What kind of brilliant actor was he? And to what end?
Whatever he was trying to pull, I just couldn’t understand why he’d put so much effort in, and I’d run out of energy to try and work it out.
HIIT Girls Group Chat:
Me: I’m back, bitches.
Sara: There she is!
Abi: How was it with Leo in the end? Awks or OK?
Me: OK, then good, then amazing and finished v weird. We kinda had a thing…
Abi: Another one of your things? I bumped into your LA fling-thing in Target last week.
Me: I thought this might be more than a fling-thing – like something real. But it turned out he was keeping it real with the client as well.
Abi: Putting his little thing about.
Sara: WTF??? Isn’t that against the rules?
Probably, but who was I going to complain to?
I wasn’t really in a position when I’d done the exact same thing.
I could try and seduce Greg and play fire with fire, but that was a sixty-something bridge too far.
I had to accept Leo wasn’t the man I thought he was and move on, and the best way to do that was to stay busy and focus on the work.
I unzipped my suitcase and tipped everything onto the floor to force myself to sort it all out.
Putting a load of washing on while I could still be bothered.
The quicker I did it, the quicker it would get done and no one else was going to do it.
My passport went back in my ‘shoebox of important things,’ which was hidden under a loose floorboard, and I fished around in the front pocket for the cruise paperwork to chuck it away.
My fingers caught on something smooth and hard instead, and I pulled out a small envelope with my name scrawled on the front.
My birthday was coming up, but who would know that to pop a card in my case?
Surely not Heidi being a thoughtful sweetheart out of the blue…
‘Angels’ started playing on the radio and Robbie Williams’ chocolatey voice took me straight back to Leo being straddled by Barb on stage.
He certainly got full marks for participation and was so much more relaxed than I’d remembered.
He’d almost had me fooled. I opened the envelope carefully, so I could keep it, and pulled out a postcard with a breaching whale on the front.
Hi Kat,
I haven’t seen you for hours and I’m starting to worry that I won’t for some reason before we leave.
Has something happened? Please talk to me.
Let’s not have another decade-long misunderstanding.
I’ve tried to call but you aren’t answering, and it feels like the end of our internship all over again.
In case of any miscommunication here – I don’t want this to be the end of our story.
These past two weeks with you have been so much fun.
I’ve loved getting to know you again and remembering why I had that crush on you all those years ago.
Please can I take you out for dinner when we get back to London?
I want to explore what this might be, and I hope you feel the same.
I know we’ve got the pitch to consider, and we’re both professionals, but can we keep business and pleasure separate and give this a try? I can if you can.
We can wait until after the pitch if you’d rather – so we don’t have that hanging over us. Whatever you want to do – I’m in.
I’ll pop this in the post to you at work if I don’t see you before you go.
Please call me and let me know you’re OK.
Leo xx