Chapter 21
Two months later
“So I’ll go sign off at the office, meet you back at yours, and then you’ll give my crew card to your magic friend and let them do some sleight of hand stuff at the exit so the system thinks I’ve gone, and I’ll just hide out in your room for a few weeks. Easy.”
“Gem.” Tom gives me that same forlorn look he’s given me every time I’ve tried to plot my escape from the flight home.
Tears well in my eyes because he still isn’t taking me seriously, but I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.
“It’s only my room for one more week. Then what will you do?”
“Befriend whoever’s moving in and live off rations like a little cabin mouse.”
“You’ll get rickets.”
I shrug. “If that’s the price I have to pay…”
Silence falls between us. We’ve been over this conversation a million times before. I want to extend my contract so I can give the general public even longer to forget me before I go back, but it would throw mine and Tom’s future contracts out of sync. We’ve been lucky enough to both secure this ship again for our next contract, and he doesn’t want to extend his because it would mean leaving his mum for longer than six months, which he doesn’t want to spring on her, and that’s completely fair. Not to mention Jack’s currently staying with Tom’s mum in Chicago, and they’ve got all sorts of plans I don’t want to ruin. I want to see my mum more than anything, but I know wherever I go, drama follows, and she doesn’t need that. No one needs that.
But we’ve got everything under wraps here now. What if someone spots me on the way home? What if I’m cornered by camera-happy lunatics who hate me? What if…?
Oh no.
I hurry to the bathroom and dry-heave over the toilet bowl for the second time this morning. I’ve not been able to keep my food down for the past week. I wish it was something I ate. I’d even take a surprise pregnancy at this point, because that would be far more manageable than my current situation.
I’m barely able to keep my hair away from my face, but Tom catches up quickly and holds it for me, rubbing my back until this latest wave of nausea dies down. He allows me a second alone to freshen up, then I go back into my room, where he looks as powerless as I feel.
“Please don’t make me go,” I beg with a sore throat.
“Baby.”
He wraps his arms around me, and I don’t bother to hold back my tears anymore. My watch vibrates with the reminder of the inevitable. I have to leave. And I have to leave now.
Accepting my fate, I take Tom’s hand while he wheels my suitcase in the other, and we head to the office together. It’s hard not to notice how excited everyone around me is to go home, whereas on my journey to the gangway, I feel more like a prisoner on death row being taken to the electric chair.
I say my goodbyes to Eliza and Oscar, who won’t go home until a few days before Christmas, and then they head off to give me and Tom some privacy. Tom fusses over the straps of my backpack while I find the nerve to walk away from him knowing this will be the longest six weeks of my life.
“Have you got your disguise?”
I nod firmly as my bottom lip trembles. In an easily accessible compartment of my bag, I have my large sunglasses and Tom’s beloved Chicago Cubs baseball team cap. I also have a hoodie ready to put on if I really need to hide. Hopefully, no one will recognise me, but I’ve come to learn “hope” is simply another word for “delusion”.
“I’m a narcissist, aren’t I?”
“No, Princess, you just have trauma. I’ll let you know if you ever cross that threshold.” He gives me one last kiss, and I cling to him harder than Rose clung to that door at the end of “Titanic”. “Bye, Gem.” He takes a step back, encouraging me to do the same.
“Bye.” The word barely makes a sound.
“Keep messaging me. I’m staying signed on till you get home.”
I’ve already told him not to spend this month’s salary on a week of Wi-Fi usage. I can handle a few days without constant communication. It’ll feel like going cold turkey after having 24/7 access to one another since we met, but there are still internet cafes he can get to every few days. Today, though, I need to know I can reach him.
“I will.”
“And I want pictures! I need proof you actually get your flight and don’t sneak onto one of the lifeboats.”
I giggle. I love that even with this dark cloud looming over me, he can still bring out the sunshine. “Love you.”
“Love you more, Cabin Mouse.”
It’s not until the front door shuts behind us that I let myself breathe. Tilly’s always interested in whoever comes through the door, but when she enters the hallway, there’s a moment of stillness as she processes my arrival before she bounds over to me, knocking me over. I sit on the floor and let her attack me with kisses and the whipping of her happy tail. Immediately, all the anxiety from the trip diminishes. I coo over her and tell her how much I missed her, suddenly feeling bad, because a few hours ago I was prepared not to come back to her for a few more months.
Once she’s tired herself out, I get to my feet and throw my arms around Mum, sinking into her. I was too on edge to appreciate her half-hug in the car. Against my chest, I feel her uneven breath, and I squeeze her even tighter.
“I’m so pleased to have you home.”
When I eventually pull away, emotion clouds my vision. There’s too much to say to know where to begin, but there’s plenty of time for a catch-up now I’m home.
She cups my face. “Do you need a lie down?”
I shake my head. “I’ll be okay for a bit.” It’s early, and I’ve been awake for almost twenty-four hours, but I’m not ready to leave Mum’s side yet.
“Why don’t you go freshen up, and I’ll let Nan know you’re back? She’s been so excited to see you.”
My heart warms at the mention of her. With a smile, I head upstairs, and it’s not long until I remember that while I don’t feel safe outside these walls, inside of them, I do.
“Oh, Princess, you’re so cute! Jack! Doesn’t she look cute!”
Jack comes into frame and smiles. “Ohh yes, very cute. Good afternoon, Bella.”
“Morning!”
Tom wanted to see me in my full princess get-up before I put my lazy clothes back on. Just a few days of hiding in my house was enough for me to hit my limit of doom and gloom. I decided I could sit around and feel scared and anxious and worry about my problems, or I could actually get out and help people with real problems worth being scared and anxious about. So I put myself back on the rota and have been spending my mornings in a local children’s ward while Tom sleeps. My paranoia dissipates there because the last person I’m thinking about is myself. No one recognises me – especially not in costume – and no one would care even if they did. “Gemma” is insignificant there, and I love it.
Jack says something about going to take a shower, and Tom’s smile widens when he’s got me to himself.
“Hey.”
His bedhead is insanely cute while also being sexy as hell, and it makes me hurt with how much I miss him already. We’re not even halfway into our break yet.
“Hi.” I grin back.
He’s always so excited to see me even though we’ve pretty much lived on FaceTime since he got home over a week ago. We don’t actively talk to each other most of the time, but it’s nice to have the other there when we do want to say something. It’s as if we’ve got our own personal livestreams of our favourite YouTubers. It’s not like we use our phones to do anything else. Ship life conditions you out of the habit of scrolling mindlessly. Occasionally, I’ve dipped out to let him and Jack enjoy their time off-ship together, but I usually get a call from Tom halfway through their adventure to show me something cool, or when they go to grab food and he can get a table near a plug socket. For once, I get to be the third wheel while the two of them enjoy some time together.
“Seemed like a great crowd last night. Well done!” He was nervous about trying to get stand-up gigs before he left, but I’m so glad he reached out to his contacts. He easily managed to get something lined up for nearly every night he’s back.
“Yeah, it was a fun one. Wish you coulda been there.”
“Me too.”
We’ve spoken at great length about him posting on TikTok again. He wants to, for all the good things it brings to other people and himself, but he’s terrified of spotlighting attention back on me, and that’s where the conversation ends every time. I’ve convinced him to keep filming his sets at least, then he has the option to post it later down the line should he change his mind.
“How are the girls?”
Though I see all the kids on the ward,there are two girls in particular who make my day, hopefully as much as I make theirs. They’re as thick as thieves and giggle non-stop at the silly stories I make up.
“Cheeky as ever. They tried to prank me today.” I begin taking my makeup off.
Tom’s eyes light up. “Oh yeah?”
“Mm-hmm. They’d switched beds and dressed up in each other’s clothes. The nurses said they’d been scheming all night. They looked ready to burst with excitement when I turned up and lost their minds when I called them each other’s names. Honestly, they laughed for about ten minutes straight.”
Tom giggles with me. “Oh man, I wish I could meet them. They sound perfect.”
“They really are.” My smile fades as I worry about the possibility of the girls not getting better, but I don’t allow my emotions to take up the space they’re trying to.
Tom never lets me struggle alone though. “Are you doing okay?”
I straighten my spine and take a deep breath. “I’m out of practice.” I shrug, pretending I’m handling it well. “But it’s not about me.”
“No, I know, but you’re allowed to feel things.”
I thank him with a tight-lipped smile but move to change the subject as I step out of frame and get changed. “What are you guys up to today?”
“The weather’s diabolical, so we’re thinking it might be the day for our ‘Twilight’ marathon.”
“Oh, you were serious about that?”
“Absolutely! We don’t mess around when it comes to ‘Twilight’. You wanna watch along or watch me?”
These two are like teenage girls on a sleepover, and I can’t get enough of them. “Can’t I do both?” I pick my phone back up now I’m decent to find him smirking.
“I like the way you think, Princess.”
We don’t watch “Twilight”; we heckle at it. Every famous quote and every overly-memed moment gets us shouting at our screens like the best kind of pantomime. We sync our timing perfectly so we’re both watching it on our own TVs, and we set up our phones so Tom and I can watch each other watch the TV. There’s a “Black Mirror” episode in there somewhere.
We’re on the second film now, and at the same moment Edward tries to reveal his sparkly skin to a bunch of Italians, a WhatsApp notification comes up on my phone telling me I’ve been invited to a group chat named “Torture Lodge”.
Weird.
Panic swims in my stomach as I study the participants, all of which are people I hope I’ll never have to see again. Excluding Pete. He actively defended me when he was sent home, and though it didn’t have much of an impact on anyone’s opinion of me, it meant a lot. Plus, he was there for me the second I finally got released from the show, and he’s checked in a few times since I’ve been away.
Messages trickle in, and a horrible sinking feeling overwhelms me.
WTF.
ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!?!?!
This has to be some kind of joke.
No amount of money is worth this.
The next few minutes pass in a blur. One second, I’m typing out a hurried message asking what’s going on, and the next, I’ve accidentally accepted a call.
From one of the “Love Lodge” producers.
My phone buzzes in my hand as the room spins. I’m not sure how long I’ve been sitting here since the call ended. There are so many thoughts swirling around my head that I’ve been sucked into a void of nothingness.
This can’t be happening.
Seeing Tom’s name on the screen, I answer the FaceTime call.
“Hey, baby, where’d you go?”
I try to respond to his cheery face, but words don’t form.
“Gem…you okay?”
Tears fall silently down my cheek, and I swipe them away with shaky fingers. Then I look up, hearing Mum come down the stairs.
“Oh no, poppet. What’s the matter?”
I said I wouldn’t be in the country. I said I was struggling with my mental health. I said no. But they reminded me of the clause in my contract that gives me no choice.
“Gem?”
I force the words out. “There’s going to be a reunion episode.”
My phone slips from my hands as I leg it to the kitchen sink, barely making it there in time to bring my lunch back up.