Chapter 2
Two
D espite the brave face I’d put on at the exhibition, Alfie had been on my mind all night.
Even now I was waiting for him to burst through the door and make demands of me like he used to.
I tossed and turned until sunrise and now I stood in the kitchen, stirring my coffee, refusing to think anymore about what Riley had said.
I focused instead on figuring out what to do with my day now that my internship was over.
Yesterday's post sat in a pile and I smiled at the sight of a brightly-coloured envelope. I pulled it out, my heart warming at my nephew’s clumsy handwriting and the askew stamp.
I settled onto the couch and opened the latest chapter from Ryan’s newest novel.
In the last few years he’d graduated from giraffes to giant trolls and now to pirates.
I read as the sun came up, and when it was over, I immediately penned a review and placed it in a dinosaur-decorated envelope.
Back in my room I wrestled the small box from the back of my closet and placed Ryan’s letter in with the rest of them.
It had only been two months since I’d seen my sister and nephew but I missed them, and my Memory Garden would need tending to again by now. I’d go for another visit soon.
I heard the front door open and shut, and a moment later Keira’s bedroom door creaked and closed, followed by the squeak of bed springs as she fell into bed.
Working in the theatre now, her days always seemed to end as mine were beginning.
As if on cue, my phone began to ring. I scooped it up and smiled at the caller ID.
“Imani, hi.”
“Good morning, Lola,” her warm, steady voice greeted me. “I was wondering if you could meet with me today? The Orangery at nine? There’s something I need to discuss with you.”
“Of course.” I answered, my curiosity piqued. Whatever she needed to discuss, it would put off the job hunt for a while…and it would keep me distracted from old memories for a little longer.
Imani’s studio was a stark contrast to her vibrant style.
There was a glass boardroom table, an easel to work at and a simple desk, also glass.
On the wall were charcoal depictions of acacia trees, the only sign of life here.
I was a person who needed muses to work, but Imani needed an absence of inspiration in order to create.
She was seated at her desk and gave me a wide smile when I entered.
“You wanted to see me?”
“Yes! Please, sit.” She gestured to the metal chair on the other side of her desk and I sat.
Imani smiled, sipping her chamomile tea.
“I just want to say that the last few months, working with you, have been a treat. It’s been a long time since I met a young person with such promise.
To that end, I have a new project available for you. ”
“You’re extending my internship?” My heart leapt.
“Not quite.” She pulled a file out of a drawer and slid it across the desk. I read the project name and my breath caught in my throat.
“The Chelsea Flower Show?” I opened the file and found plot schematics. “They’ve given you another commission? Imani, that's huge! Congratulations.” This wasn’t new, Imani had designed for them before, but it was still an honour.
“Again, not quite. They’ve given you a commission.” My heart stopped. Silence hung thick in the air.
“Huh?” Was the only sound I could make. Her rich laugh echoed around the office.
“Every year, the board for the CFS selects a newly qualified designer to present at the show. Their selection is based on performance, recommendation, skill...You’ve made an impression it seems.”
Again, I was struck by silence. “I don’t understand. They want me to design?”
“Yes. If you accept, of course.” If I accept.
As if there was ever any question. My hand went to my necklace, my thumb rubbing over the smooth glass.
Mum. I could almost feel her hand on my shoulder, her smile warming me from above.
“Now, of course this isn’t a paid project so I have a second offer to make.
I want you to continue as my assistant for the foreseeable, at least until your project for the CFS is over.
It won’t be too glamorous and the pay will be terrible but it should get you by. What do you think?”
“I think this is crazy.” I looked up at my friend and mentor. A wide grin crept onto my face as I allowed this news to sink in.
She smiled back. “The show is in six months.”
I spent the afternoon getting settled in my new role as Imani’s assistant, all the while brainstorming.
I was designing for the Chelsea Flower Show…
It didn’t feel real. My life was coming together.
Piece by piece I was moving forward and leaving all thoughts of Riley’s surprise appearance firmly behind me.
By the time I got home I was impatient to give Keira my news.
She was working on a new production of Oliver Twist and wouldn’t be home till late but maybe I could persuade Maia out of her room to celebrate with me.
I uncorked a bottle of wine and was just pulling two glasses out of the cupboard as the doorbell rang.
I opened the door and found Riley on the other side.
My heart leapt into my throat, my hand tightened on the door handle.
Immediately I looked behind him, searching.
“He isn’t here.” Riley caught me out but I was too nervous to be embarrassed.
“You shouldn’t be here either,” I said, my voice as firm as I could make it. “Also, how do you know where I live? Actually, I don’t want to know.” I put my hands up. I needed out of this situation. Fast. “You need to leave.”
“I know you don’t want to see me and I’m sorry for coming at you like this, Lola, but I—” He cut off at the sound of Maia’s footsteps coming down the hall. She came to stand at my side, eyeing Riley over my shoulder.
“I think she made herself pretty clear,” she said, her voice cool and steady. Riley looked between the two of us.
“I just want to talk.” He gave me a pleading look that tugged on my heart. I should tell him to go to hell but none of this was Riley's fault. We’d been friends once and I hated seeing such despair in his eyes. Knowing that I was bound to regret it, I wilted.
“I’ll be fine,” I told Maia. She didn’t look convinced but she didn’t fight me on it.
Not wanting anything connected with Alfie in my home, I stepped out onto the street. “Riley, whatever you’re going to say?—”
“You’re a pain in the arse, you know that?” Okay…that wasn’t what I’d expected.
“I’ve been told,” I said slowly. “I’m not quite sure what you’ve got against me, though.”
“My friend's life being in the shit. That’s what I’ve got against you.”
He was joking. He had to be. I folded my arms, those fuzzy sentimental feelings I’d had dying a quick death.
“Yeah, he seems like he’s really struggling.
Didn’t he just appear on the cover of Forbes magazine.
Again?” It was a dumb argument and I knew it.
Alfie hated his work, the fact that he’d somehow managed to double his net worth in the last two years was a sign that he was, in fact, not okay.
I didn’t want to think about that though. I couldn’t afford any room for empathy.
The knowledge of his success wasn’t the result of voluntary research.
Three days ago, I’d spent an hour on the tube avoiding Alfie’s hauntingly beautiful face on the front page of a copy of Forbes that the passenger opposite was reading.
I hadn’t realised back in the bubble of my tiny town just how famous he was. Or, infamous rather.
“Yeah, he’s crushing it. He’s working himself into the ground so he doesn’t have to think.
” Riley sighed, running a frustrated hand through his hair.
“He doesn’t talk, Lola. He was never the chattiest person in the world but he would talk to me.
Never about anything personal but about inconsequential shit.
Ever since you and he broke up, he’s just…
” He trailed off and I let him. I didn’t want to know what Alfie was now.
“Why is any of this my fault?” I snapped. I hadn’t even laid eyes on Alfie and he was already too close. Already spoiling things. I should be inside celebrating a massive achievement and instead I was out here, talking about a man that I should have forgotten two years ago.
“Look, I don’t know what happened between you and I’m not trying to find out?—”
“Then what do you want?” My voice cracked in a way that made me hate myself. I couldn’t be weak over Alfie ever again.
I wanted to tell Riley everything Alfie had done to me, but he was a part of Alfie’s life, not mine. It didn’t feel right.
“He’s my friend, Lola, and he’s suffering.” I didn’t want to give in but the look in his eyes was pure and begging for my help.
I tightened my arms around myself, the fresh autumn breeze nipping at me.
The thought of Alfie in pain was hellish.
I thought of him bent under a stream of boiling water, scalding himself in penance for what he’d done to me.
Old instincts told me to go to him, that he needed me, that it was my fault because if I’d just…
NO! I gritted my teeth, angry that he wasn’t even here and I could feel him manipulating me. I forced the image away. If he was suffering it wasn’t my fault.
Riley sighed again and I noticed for the first time how tired he looked. “I need to show you something,” he said, his voice soft, as if he was too worn out to fight with me. I stiffened. No. No way was I going anywhere with him. “I know you don’t trust him, but I hope you still trust me.”
“Trust you? A man who’s here doing his friend’s dirty work?”