CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
‘Sell the house?’ I stared at her, shocked. ‘Oh, Mum, why didn’t you say? I can up the rent I pay you, if that would help?’
She shook her head. ‘Thank you, love. But I’ve caused the problem so I need to put it right somehow.’
‘What do you mean? Which problem?’
‘Oh, Lizzie, it’s all my fault. Your dad left me a sizeable chunk of money that he meant as a safety net, and I should have left it untouched. But I . . . had to start using it, and now there’s barely a third of it left.’
‘But if you’ve needed it to pay bills, it’s not your fault. You haven’t done anything wrong using that money,’ I said gently, guiding her back into the room and over to the bed.
Sitting down, she stared up at me with mascara-streaked eyes. ‘You don’t understand, Lizzie. I’ve been using Dad’s safety net to buy all these fancy clothes to model on social media.’
‘Oh.’ I stared at her, taken aback. ‘Right. I . . . I suppose I assumed the boutiques were either giving you the clothes so you could advertise them, or at least lending them to you, so you could take the photos?’
She shook her head despairingly. ‘I was lucky for the first month or so, getting work from the boutique on Sunnybrook High Street. They loaned me the clothes so I could model them, and I earned a little money, which gave me such a lift – but oh, Lizzie, I actually convinced myself I was going to hit the big time as one of those social media influencers.’
‘But . . . you started this back in September,’ I murmured, my head swimming in confusion. ‘Do you mean you’ve been buying those high-end, designer outfits yourself for most of that time?’
She nodded, her eyes welling up. ‘I really thought that if I kept going, I could increase the number of followers I had, and then maybe I’d be spotted by some big designer clothes company who’d want me to advertise their clothes for the more mature woman?
’ She shook her head. ‘How pathetic is that, Lizzie? How utterly delusional!’
‘Mum, stop it. Of course you’re not pathetic.
These things probably take time to work out.
But really, it’s been a coping mechanism for you.
Just like Kitty’s chosen to hide away from the world, your social media stuff has been your way of coping with losing Dad, and it’s completely understandable. ’
‘But I’ve been living in a dreamworld, Lizzie,’ she wailed.
‘It was never going to work. You’re right.
I think I just needed something to occupy me so that I didn’t have time to think about how horrible life is now that your dad’s gone.
But just now, when Wyatt was showing us his social media stories, I thought how clever they were.
And that’s when I finally realised I needed to stop trying to pretend that it would happen for me.
I’ve wasted a ton of money getting absolutely nowhere.
And now we’re in danger of losing the house! ’
‘Hey, we’re not going to lose it.’ I sat down and slipped my arm around her ‘Look, Mum, we’ll find a way. Together.’ I paused, thinking about the vodka bottles. ‘Have you been drinking more lately? Vodka, maybe? Because I’d totally understand if you had been.’
‘What?’ She looked at me, confused. ‘Why would you ask me that? You know I just have the occasional glass of wine and never drink spirits.’
‘I thought so,’ I said quickly. ‘Look, Mum, you don’t have to carry this financial burden alone. There are four of us living here, remember? We’ll come up with some way of holding onto the house, I promise.’
She looked up at me, hope in her eyes.
Then, overcome with emotion, she broke down in tears and sobbed in my arms.
And I kicked myself for not having guessed before now that things might be tough for our mum financially, now that Dad was gone.
I should have taken more interest in what she was doing on social media.
If only I’d asked her more questions, we might not be in this position . . . in danger of losing our precious family home . . .
*****
Later that night, after Wyatt had gone and the rest of the house was sleeping, I lay awake for a long time, thinking – mainly about what we could do to help Mum and support her financially so that we could hold onto the house.
I also kept thinking about Chawton and being there with Dan and what a great time I’d had, and wishing I hadn’t drunk so much the night before because then maybe we wouldn’t have parted on such cool terms . . .
Earlier, I’d told Wyatt what Dan had said about him basically seducing his eighteen-year-old employee, getting her pregnant and then leaving her in the lurch, and he’d just stared at me, speechless.
I’d never seen Wyatt lost for words, but when he was finally able to speak, he shook his head in disbelief and said he couldn’t believe the depths some people would sink to, just to feel superior.
‘I knew Dan didn’t like me, but to make something like that up just to besmirch my good name. That’s just the lowest of the low,’ was his final word before asking if we could please change the subject.
He’d looked genuinely horrified and upset, so now I didn’t know what to think or who to believe . . .
I was just drifting off to sleep around one, when I was disturbed by a clanking sound. It sounded like a can rolling along in the wind.
But then I heard it again, and this time, I sat up in bed and listened.
A cold hand gripped my insides. There was someone outside on the patio in the back garden. I could hear more gentle clanking, and it definitely wasn’t the wind.
Crossing to the window, I peered out through a small gap in the curtains, and my heart jumped into my throat.
A dark hooded figure was moving towards the back door, and I heard feet shuffling as they came in and the distant thud of the door closing behind them.
I held my breath in a panic, wondering what to do. They were climbing the stairs now and stepping on the creaky spot on the landing!
Inching towards my door, I opened it a crack and peeped out.
‘Blaize?’ I gasped, as she pushed back the hood of her coat. She jumped and clutched her chest with fright as I appeared on the landing. ‘What on earth were you doing out in the back garden at this time of night?’
And then I realised and my heart sank.
*****
‘But why, love?’ I asked her a little later.
I was sitting on her bed, watching her as she stood at the window, arms wrapped tightly around herself, staring out into the darkness. ‘Was it grief over losing dad that made you turn to drink for comfort?’
She nodded.
‘Oh, Blaize. I know. Everything seems so . . . empty without him. But we’ve got each other.’ I leapt up and went to put my arms around her, but she shook me off impatiently.
‘It’s not just Dad.’ She continued to stare out into the darkness.
‘So what . . .?’
‘I thought I was all right, Lizzie. I honestly thought I’d be okay.
After Dillon left for America, it was absolute hell for a while but we stayed in touch and I got on with my life.
I even started going out again and seeing other people.
But I guess I never really got Dillon out of my head because when Dad died, it was Dillon I needed to comfort me most of all. But he wasn’t there, Lizzie.’
She turned, her face stricken with grief.
‘He was on a screen and I could talk to him, but I needed him here to put his arms around me. And I suppose that’s when drink began to seem like the answer because it dulled the pain.
’ She shrugged miserably. ‘Vodka’s hard to detect.
I didn’t want any of you to find out how shamefully badly I was coping – or rather, not coping! ’
‘But we would have understood, Blaize. You were so distraught, you sought comfort wherever you could and that’s so natural,’ I told her, thinking of Mum and her social media dreams.
‘Being hooked on vodka isn’t the worst of it, though, Lizzie,’ she murmured.
My heart lurched with dread. ‘What do you mean, love?’
‘I was drunk in a lecture and I’ve been kicked off my course.’
‘What?’ I stared at her. ‘When did this happen?’
She shrugged miserably. ‘At the end of last term.’
‘Before Christmas? And you never told us?’
‘I couldn’t bear to disappoint you all. Especially Mum. She’d already been through quite enough with Dad.’
‘So hang on. Where have you been going every day, if you haven’t been attending lectures and tutorials?’
‘The library.’
‘But not the university library?’
‘Well, no. Just the general library. It’s quite nice and warm in there in the winter.’
‘Oh, Blaize. Come here.’
She stumbled into my arms with a little sob.
I held her tightly and we stood there like that for a long time until eventually, she was all cried out . . .