Chapter One. #2
“Sorry, this is an important meeting. However, I’d love to get to know everyone; family isn’t something to be sniffed at. Maybe we can meet up or FaceTime? If you want to? I’m not good at this bonding stuff. Just call me,” Ophelia stated and walked out.
We swapped glances and then laughed. “Fair enough,” Thea replied.
“Which of you is next?” Joseph answered.
“Just do us together,” I declared. “I’ve nothing to hide.”
An hour later, I sat staring at the luxury car that was now mine.
I could drive and had a licence, but my rust bucket was so ancient I swear the mechanic kept it intact with duct tape.
This was a Mercedes, top of the line, and a year old.
The damn thing probably cost more money than I’d ever earn in my lifetime.
Beside me, Thea gaped at a similar-age BMW, and Poppy eyed an Audi with concern.
“These are ours,” Thea asked again.
“Yup. As is that twenty-thousand-pound clothing allowance, the furnishing budget, the yachts we now apparently own, and half the fricking Bank of England!” Poppy exclaimed with mild hysteria.
“Wow, I own a yacht,” Thea gasped as she started to hyperventilate.
“We share a yacht.” Poppy shook her head. Seems Joseph missed a few things out. A yacht, a nice car each, allowances—my head was spinning.
“What are your plans?” Poppy quizzed as she rubbed Thea’s back.
“To pack and get the hell out of the dump I’m living in. Girls, I’m going to live in the lighthouse. There’s nothing for me in Dagenham.”
Pain flickered in me, but I wasn’t quick enough to wipe it away.
“Bad break up?” Thea questioned, now distracted.
“No. A terrible one—one nightmares are made of.”
“I won’t push,” Thea said.
“No. Don’t, please,” I murmured.
“We’ll call, won’t we?” Poppy asked almost desperately.
“Yes. Go home and speak to your dad. I’m sure he’s worried.” I smiled.
Thea looked at me. “Lyra, I’ll do the same as you, so meet you there?” There was hope in Thea’s eyes, and that warmed me.
“See you in Cornwall,” I replied and headed for my Mercedes. Settling behind the wheel, a chill ran down my spine. Events had been out of my control lately, but I wouldn’t let them drag me down. Cale and his stupid friends could go to hell.
Unbothered, I stuffed my clothes into black bin bags. I didn’t own a fancy suitcase or even a battered one. Actually, I didn’t have much. Most of my belongings came from town dumps or charity shops.
A thought hit, making me pause suddenly. I had a clothing allowance. Why was I bothering to pack?
After the realisation, I emptied the bags and packed only what was needed.
I put the rest in a bag for charity. Looking over the bedsit, I picked up a few items that had sentimental meaning and shoved them into a box.
Some things you didn’t leave behind. I also packed food and my toiletries, personal items, and left the rest. I dropped off the food at a neighbour’s.
On my sixth trip to the Mercedes, I heard a familiar voice, and I stiffened. Cale. I looked everywhere for somewhere to hide, but the Mercedes and I were out in the open. What was Cale even doing here?
“What’s this?” Cale demanded from behind me. Serena, my former boss, tittered, and I ground my teeth.
“What?” I reacted, taking a few moments to brace myself. The pain still hit hard when I turned around. Naturally, it would; only three days had passed since my complete humiliation.
“Whatever, you’re not important. I left my sports jacket in your hovel. Lyra, I need it back. Hand over your keys.”
“No. I’m busy. Come back tomorrow.” I’d be long gone by then, but that didn’t matter.
“Give me the keys,” Cale demanded.
“No. It’s my bedsit; you can’t just march in. Tomorrow,” I repeated. Screw Cale’s sports jacket. I hoped the manager of the block tossed it with the rest of the junk I was leaving.
“Don’t be a bitch,” Cale ground out. “I’ll quickly run up and get it.”
“What part of no don’t you understand?” I retorted, and Cale looked surprised. Not as much as I felt, though. Usually, I never answered back, and I’d always been grateful that he’d actually deigned to notice me.
Serena glanced between Cale and me, and then at the Mercedes. “Whose car is this? Why are you loading things into the boot?” she asked suspiciously.
“None of your business,” I snapped again, taking everyone by surprise.
Serena stiffened and stepped forward, her beautiful face screwing up in anger. “I’m your boss!”
“Nope. Since I’m not working, you can’t order me about!” Serena gaped. For years, I’d taken her bullying. Not anymore.
Smugly, I shut the door to the Mercedes and locked it.
“That’s a Mercedes-Benz G-Class G63 Mango Edition. That’s easily over two hundred and twenty thousand. Who the hell is trusting you with that?” Cale demanded, stepping towards me.
“How much?” I gasped, looking at the car in disbelief.
“What’s going on here?” Cale realised something was wrong.
“Nothing,” I muttered and shoved past, racing for my bedsit. I wanted them to go away. After what they both pulled at work—wait—I didn’t have to stay there. What was I thinking? A laugh escaped me. I was free from Serena’s bullying, Cale’s constant lies, and his friends ridicule.