Chapter 3
FRANKIE
Ellie erupts into the kitchen when I’m about halfway through my carrot cake, and comes straight over to the table for a hug.
‘This is a lovely surprise,’ she says, just as I very suddenly dissolve into tears.
‘Frankie! What’s happened?’ She releases me for a moment to close the door behind her and kick her trainers off (and, even through the immense flood of crying and misery that’s washed over me again, I do still register the weirdness of Ellie being in trainers and Lycra, because she does not usually wear any kind of sports kit; in fact I’m surprised she owns any), before pulling a chair right next to mine and hugging me again.
‘Rick broke up with me and fired me and obviously I’ve had to move out and so I am now fiancé-less, homeless and jobless,’ I sob.
‘What? Frankie! What? Oh my goodness. I’m so sorry. Tell me exactly what happened.’ Ellie stands up and goes over to the other side of the room before returning with a glass of water and a box of tissues.
I take a tissue and do a great honking blow into it, before launching into my story.
‘Rick texted me this morning and said he didn’t need me to go into work today.
Which I thought was a good thing, because he was quite a strict boss and didn’t treat me differently from anyone else at work even though we were engaged and I had a lot on today and I hadn’t slept well because I’d been worrying about being so busy and it had turned into a vicious no-sleep cycle.
’ I stop babbling for a second to do another huge blow into a new tissue.
‘Then what?’
‘Well. Pathetically, in hindsight, I was sitting on the apartment terrace late morning looking out over Hyde Park thinking about the gorgeous September sun and how lucky I was to get to live somewhere with such an amazing view, flicking through wedding magazines and trying to decide what colour I should choose for bridesmaids’ dresses, feeling good that I got to do that instead of going into the office.
And then—’ I take another tissue and dab ineffectually at the enormous flow of tears running down my cheeks ‘—he texted me.’
I pause, because I’m gulping so much with the sobbing that I’m starting to feel sick, and Ellie pushes my glass of water towards me.
I wait until I can speak again and then continue, ‘His text said that unfortunately he didn’t think we should get married so we should split up and that he wouldn’t need me at work any more either, but he would be happy to pay me three months’ salary in redundancy and allow me to stay on at the apartment until next weekend. ’
‘Oh my goodness. What? The bastard. He said all that by text? I mean, I can’t believe he said it at all. But by out-of-the-blue text is crazy.’ Ellie envelops me in a huge hug and I dissolve even further, completely soaking her with tears.
After a couple of minutes I suddenly remember an extra detail and lift my head to say, ‘And, we were supposed to be hosting a dinner party this evening for some of his friends – the designer-dressed, amazing-job ones, who all seemed to hate each other but wouldn’t dream of missing one of those evenings – and the stupid, rude fucker asked – told – me to contact them all to cancel it. ’
‘And… did you?’
‘No I bloody did not.’
‘Good,’ Ellie says. ‘I’m so sorry.’ She squeezes me closer against her. ‘I have so many questions on details, but could I ask first whether you think there’s any chance of getting back with him or can I safely say deeply negative things about him?’
‘Ellie. If you don’t say extremely negative things about him, I’ll be furious.
I’ll start. Rude. Arrogant. Up his own arse.
Yes, good company on occasion. But far too fond of a boring, boring golf anecdote – like who cares if he got a hole in one under par on a really difficult and also obviously extremely exclusive course – and also a lot less charming once he’d got me into bed. ’
‘That’s a very good start,’ she says approvingly. ‘Would you mind if I said that I did not appreciate the way he patronised me and Jack as country bumpkins?’
‘I’d be delighted.’
We continue to exchange satisfying insults about Rick, while my tears subside to hiccup and sniffle levels, until something occurs to me.
‘I genuinely slightly wonder whether he just proposed to me because I wasn’t sure about moving in and he really wanted someone trustworthy to live in his flat with him to basically house-sit because he was away so much. What do you think?’
‘Um.’
‘I want honesty,’ I command.
Ellie scrunches her face. ‘Maybe yes?’
I sniff loudly and she says, ‘I really think we need wine.’
‘So do I. Why do we not yet have it?’
‘Because I have failed you.’ She springs up and goes over to her fridge and takes out a bottle of white. ‘I should have done this immediately.’
As she’s pouring, my phone buzzes.
It’s a message from Rick, aka The Tosser, as Ellie has now started calling him:
You didn’t cancel the dinner party. I am standing in my apartment with ten guests and no food. What would you like me to do now?
‘I don’t know what to do,’ I tell Ellie, showing her my screen. ‘I have no home, no job, no fiancé, and apparently I’ve lost my powers of decision-making too. Like, I literally do not know what to do now. What should I reply?’
Ellie pushes an extremely full, extremely large wine glass in front of me, hugs me again and then says, ‘That man is a complete dickhead and no-one should ever be allowed to make you feel like this. You made a really good decision coming down here. You also made really good decisions on these cakes—’ she peers at my plate for the first time ‘—although what is that? Anyway, irrelevant. You don’t need to make any more decisions today.
I can totally do it for you. The options are don’t reply at all, or say Fuck off. Or maybe some sarcasm.’
‘I don’t knowwww,’ I whimper.
‘Okay.’ Ellie takes the phone out of my hand. ‘May I?’
I nod.
She types and sends:
Have a lovely evening! xxx
Rick replies with:
Where. Is. The. Food.
‘Where is the food?’ Ellie asks.
‘I was supposed to be cooking it.’
She types and sends another message:
Get takeaway
Then she turns the phone face down on the table. There are at least ten more buzzes, in quick succession, and the only reason I manage to stop myself reading them is that Ellie narrows her eyes at me and shakes her head when she sees me edging my hand in the direction of the phone.
‘Do not read his messages. Such a dickhead,’ she says. ‘Zero empathy. The most self-centred person I’ve ever met. Your world has just imploded around you, courtesy of him, and he’s nagging you about food? That’s actually crazy.’ She hugs me again. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Thank you,’ I mumble, pushing the phone further away from me. Then I say, ‘I don’t know what I’m going to do. I can’t even work out what my biggest worry should be, but I do know that I’m homeless and jobless and basically completely buggered.’
‘You are not buggered,’ Ellie says very firmly. Then she points a stern finger at my glass. ‘Drink.’
I take a big gulp while she takes a large sip of her own, before adopting a thinking position.
‘Okay. You aren’t homeless. You’ll always have a home with me,’ she says.
‘I can’t impose.’
‘Don’t be silly. You know Jack and I both love having you here. You’re welcome to stay for as long as you like. Forever if you like. I’d love that. Plus Gran isn’t getting any younger and she’d love you to stay for as long as possible.’
‘I don’t have a job, though. I’ve got the rental income from my flat and that’s it. So I wouldn’t be able to pay you a lot of rent.’
‘Frankie!’ Ellie looks aghast, simultaneously eyes wide open and frowning.
‘I don’t want rent from you. All I want from you is your company and to know that I’m helping.
You were such a rock to me when Jack was little—’ Ellie and I were nearly eighteen when Jack was born (she has no idea who his father is) so obviously she did need some help, which I was more than happy to provide ‘—and I want to be here for you now.’ She pauses and then says, ‘I mean, obviously I will require you to bake a lot because I love your cakes, and also make your chicken tagine regularly, but other than that I have no requirements at all from you other than that you let me help.’
‘Thank you,’ I sniff.
‘And job-wise,’ she continues, ‘you didn’t love that job, so maybe now is a good time for a reset.
Just take as long as you need to work out what you want to do and do that.
Maybe finish your book.’ Ellie is the only person in the world I’ve told about the very steamy romance I’ve been writing.
‘I mean, you’re so talented, and so amazing, and I’m not sure you were fully utilising all your amazingness working for The Tosser. ’
‘Thank you.’ I sniff again. ‘I would like to finish the book. And I can’t actually believe that I stayed in estate agency for so long, because I really just fell into it after uni. But it’s scary. I have no other skills; I’m not amazing and I’m not talented. And I’m too old to start something new.’
‘Frankie.’ Ellie’s using her scary deputy headmistress voice.
‘I will not have you talk about yourself like that. You are amazing. And we’re thirty-five and we’ll probably be working until we’re seventy at this rate, so you have plenty of time to change career.
All sorts of people start new careers way older than this. ’
‘Really?’
‘Definitely.’ She takes another big sip, and I do too, and then we just sit and look at each other.
I’m still hiccupping a bit but I’m actually feeling a lot better. At least I have somewhere to stay. Things could be a lot worse.
‘What is this mess?’ Ellie asks, indicating the carrot cake on my plate.
‘Well.’ I’m actually very glad not to be talking about Rick and my messed-up life any more, so I tell her in great detail about Marcus, the queue man, and how rude he was to me about Maurice and his antibiotics. ‘I mean, of course I can give a cat antibiotics,’ I conclude.