Chapter 24
? A hasty departure
I didn’t need to listen to the message again to understand the most
likely explanation for Elle’s words: my trip to Scarnbrook – and no
doubt many of the encounters I’d had since I’d arrived – had somehow
been an elaborate set-up from the outset.
The pub quiz. Trying to set me up with Darren. ‘Bumping into’ Tom and last night’s supposed ‘date’. I had no idea what – if anything – about this week had been real any more. Had they all been laughing at me behind my back?
I was mortified to my very core. Yet, somehow, it almost felt as if this moment had been inevitable ever since I’d had the idea to come back to Scarnbrook.
I mean, returning here was never going to end with a Christmas movie-style ‘happily ever after’ moment against a snowy backdrop, was it?
The harrowing past was always going to rear its head.
Old wounds were always going to re-open.
And I was always going to end up alone. What I hadn’t foreseen, however, was that Elle would be the cause of it all.
What the fuck was going on with her? With us?
The only things I knew for sure right now were these: I couldn’t trust anyone but myself. And I needed to leave. Now.
Right on cue, having no doubt received the message that’d been intended for him, Ryan called.
‘Great news, Miss Fuel, your car’s ready. Reckon you could make your way over here to pick it up before I close? I’m sure Brinton’ll give you a lift, ha ha.’
My voice quivered as I replied. ‘Tell you what, Ryan, how about you just bring it to me, hmm?’
‘Oh, er, I guess I could try and make that work.’
‘Seriously, you can drop the act. I know you’ve all been plotting with Elle the entire time I’ve been here.
She just sent me a message by mistake that was quite obviously intended for you.
And I know that my car was probably ready days ago.
Can you bring it here or not? You know where I’m staying, I presume? ’
‘Yeah, but which number?’ Ryan’s voice sounded different, all hints of cockiness evaporated.
‘Eleven. Just put the car keys through the letterbox when you get here. You’ve got my London address to invoice me so just stick it in the post.’
Ryan’s breath crackled the line between us as he exhaled. ‘There’ll be no invoice, Mally. It was a simple job in the end. God, I feel awful. Honestly, Elle told me you wouldn’t mind.’
Wouldn’t mind?! Elle had thought that manipulating me – when she knew how anxious I’d been about writing this stupid article – was even within the realm of ‘reasonable’, for fuck’s sake?
‘Of course she did. That’s how she operates. But you know all about that from Year Ten, don’t you?’
He paused before he spoke again, an edge of panic to his voice. ‘Please don’t tell Carly I was in touch with her. She messaged me on Facebook out of the blue last week for a “quick favour” and it just escalated from there. You know what she’s like – she’s impossible to say no to.’
I knew one thing for sure: I wasn’t going to hesitate to say no to her ever again.
‘You honestly think I’m going to stay in touch with anyone from Scarnbrook after this?
Don’t worry, Ryan, your secret is safe with dull old Double A.
’ My voice broke open at my school nickname.
I hung up before he had the chance to talk again.
He deserved to feel shit for this. And, for once, I wasn’t going to put myself out to make him – or anyone else, for that matter – feel better about themselves.
I ran upstairs, tears careering down my hot cheeks. I grabbed my wheelie suitcase and began hastily shoving my clothes inside. My Mary Berry dress, which still smelt of Tapas Den, mocking me as it refused to crumple. I knew I’d never want to wear it again.
My ears rang as I tried to work out what had driven Elle’s scheme as I scooped my smellies into my toiletries bag.
The only answer I kept coming up with was ‘ambition’: she wanted to strand me in Scarnbrook to get a more interesting article out of me.
I was so disappointed in her. No, ‘disappointed’ wasn’t strong enough.
I was furious with her. Sure, this was exactly the kind of game she’d play on any of her other writers in order to get the ‘best’ out of them.
But to fool me like this? Her best friend?
I gave the rental a cursory tidy, ignoring the curtain that was still neatly folded on the landing.
While I was putting the crockery away in the kitchen, I heard the hard, sleigh bell-esque jingle of keys landing on the laminate floor.
I peered out the living-room window to see Darren driving Ryan away, Dad’s car on the driveway.
I grabbed my stuff and locked the door behind me, placing the key back in its grubby box.
I chucked my stuff in the boot, annoyed to see a spare umbrella inside.
Alanis Morissette could’ve written one of her ironic ‘Ironic’ lyrics about that.
As I careened my way out of Scarnbrook on the ever-widening roads, I tried to ignore the fact that four o’clock was approaching and Tom would be arriving at Hollyhock Close at any minute.
I’d left no note and his number was blocked, along with everyone else’s here.
Even if last night had been real, my relationship with Scarnbrook – and therefore any prospect of a relationship with him – was over, once and for all.
Christian Woods could burn the pub to the ground for all I cared.