Chapter 19 #2
I should never have listened to Rosie Flint.
Embarrassment for believing in the magical power of bay leaves engulfs me.
Why did I waste so much money on so many of them?
I did the same after I’d read J.K. Fielding’s book and got my hopes up about herbal cleansing baths and trails of salt.
A little voice from deep inside me whispers back, You’re desperate, Nelly.
You want to be normal like everyone else.
Perhaps it’s time to accept that I will always have my curse.
Maybe I am destined to be on my own for the rest of my life?
Tears sting my eyes as I make my way to work. After wiping my eyes, I take my mind off bay leaves, Rosie Flint, Oliver’s late-night shenanigans, and my curse by sending a text message to Aunt Polly to ask how she is and tell her that I’ll be over to see her tomorrow.
It’s been a busy morning. I haven’t had a chance to give Miranda feedback on today’s outfit – a tiny black dress that’s more like a belt.
She keeps strutting past me and gesturing towards it.
‘Before you ask, Nelly, Frank was too busy this morning lubricating his bike chain with WD40 to notice what I am wearing. My online stylist thinks he’s a lost cause.
’ She lets out a fake laugh. I know she’s hurting.
There’s a queue at the till. Waves of exhaustion are crashing over me. I might have to ask Miranda for a nap at lunch.
The woman with the red and white glasses and blonde curly hair is at the front clutching the book she bought the other day. ‘I’d like to return this.’
I look down at the book, Summer Kisses at Sandcastle Bay. The cover is pristine, the spine uncracked, and there are no signs of dog-eared pages. ‘Sure, can I ask whether there is anything wrong with the book?’
She smiles. ‘Not with the book. With me.’
‘You?’
‘I can’t bring myself to read it.’
‘Oh.’
‘Once you go through a messy divorce, you never see love in the same light.’
She should try living with my curse.
‘I’ve lost faith in love, so I’m returning this.’
‘I think that’s a wise decision. Love only ends in heartbreak…’
She gives me a knowing nod. ‘You’re right.’
I point to the crime section. ‘We have some great serial killer fiction novels on display. A good alternative to romance.’
* * *
On the way home, I decide that it’s time to tell Oliver the flat share isn’t working.
I wish I were a wild thirty-something-year-old like him, but I am not.
I have a full-time job and a sick aunt who needs my support.
Being exhausted every day is not enjoyable.
Lenny will hate me, but I will just have to suffer his dark moods once Oliver goes.
Oliver is sitting on the sofa when I get home. He’s staring at a blank Word document. I watch as he glances up at me, leaps out of his seat and grabs something behind the sofa. He thrusts a bunch of tulips at me. ‘Nelly, I’m sorry about last night.’
‘You didn’t have to get me flowers.’
He bows his head. ‘I keep waking you up. I also smashed your mum’s vase. Jamie had a go at me earlier. It wasn’t pleasant.’
‘Oliver, this flat share arrangement isn’t working.’
He blinks, and his jaw tightens. ‘Not working?’
I nod. ‘You wake me up every night when you come home in the early hours. I am so tired all the time.’
He puts his head in his hands. ‘Oh, God, I’m sorry, Nelly.’
‘I love it that you’ve got a great social life here…’
Lifting his face from his hands, he casts me a bewildered look. ‘Is that what you think I am doing… socialising?’
I shrug.
He stands and runs a hand through his hair. ‘Please give me one more chance?’
Those dark and intense eyes of his have found mine. They are hard to ignore. It’s only the second week. Perhaps I’m being harsh?
‘One more chance – okay?’
A boyish smile sweeps across his face. ‘Great. I want to mend your mum’s vase.’
I blink and wonder whether I heard him correctly. ‘You want to mend my mum’s vase?’
A smile spreads across his face. ‘If you get me the pieces, I will put them back together.’
‘You don’t have to do that.’
He shakes his head. ‘I want to.’
As I retrieve the box filled with broken vase pieces from my room, I think back to what Jamie said about Oliver and this Molly person.
Is there something going on between him and Molly that is causing his erratic behaviour?
Now that my curse has returned, I could use my curse to find out how his love for Molly ends.
As I hand him the box, I make sure our fingers touch.
My body flinches. I wait for the flash of white light.
Nothing.
‘Nelly, why are you closing your eyes?’
I flick them open. ‘Oh, I didn’t realise they were shut.’
‘This can be fixed, Nelly,’ he says, taking the box from me as my mind once again goes into freefall.
My curse has stopped working again. The living room starts to spin.
What’s going on? Reaching out, I steady myself by gripping onto the arms of the sofa.
Why does it keep glitching? Maybe it’s losing power?
None of the books on curses mention a period of a curse acting like faulty Wi-Fi, but then again, I have always wondered whether the authors have ever experienced a curse. J.K. Fielding’s book springs to mind.
‘Nelly, are you okay? You look deathly white.’ Oliver comes over to me.
‘I’m fine,’ I mumble. ‘Just a little dizzy.’
He goes to make me a sugary cup of tea, and I sit in my chair in the living room.
Lenny comes to sit on my lap. He senses I might need emotional support. Have I been given another chance at a curse-free life?
‘We’re missing a piece,’ Oliver says after handing me a mug of tea. ‘I’ll go look for it.’ He studies my face. ‘You’ve got your colour back.’
I smile while nibbling on my thumbnail.
‘I’ll be in the hallway on my hands and knees if you need me.’ He beams.
‘Oliver, you don’t have to do this.’
‘Nelly, I do.’
I’m busy searching Google for faulty curses when he comes back with the missing piece. ‘I’ll find some glue. I won’t let you down, Nelly.’
I want to believe him, but he keeps letting me down.