Chapter Eighteen
I’ve avoided everyone for the past week.
OK, that’s not strictly true. I’ve sent out two texts, one to Reeni and one to Jackson, and was deafened by the silence of no reply from either of them.
So, I did the only thing I knew. Turned off my phone and hid in the safety of my own home, mostly under the duvet.
I decided that the photography night was a horrendous idea and applied for an interview with the local bookie’s.
And I kept opening my banking app to see how much I still had in my account and tried to work out how long I can make it stretch out for.
It had crossed my mind to ring Mum for some sympathy, but I’m so embarrassed that I’ve failed at everything, I haven’t plucked up the courage.
If Dad answered I would be able to hear his disappointment in me all the way from the Lake District and I don’t think I need to feel worse than I already do.
I’ve spent nearly the whole week in my pyjamas watching daytime telly and even I am fed up with myself now.
I promised myself today would be the day I pulled myself together.
It’s still taken me until eleven in the morning to be showered and dressed, but at least I’m up and ready to face the day.
Progress, I suppose. I unplug my phone from the charger and turn it back on.
It comes to life and dings almost immediately.
I snatch it back up, crossing my fingers I’ll see Jackson’s or Reeni’s names.
I sink onto the wooden kitchen chair. It’s neither of them.
It’s a text message from a number I don’t recognise.
My phone dings again and two more text messages pop up from unknown numbers.
Bloody spam. Although, to be fair, falling in love with a Nigerian prince who has a fortune to give away sounds just about perfect right now.
I go to delete and block the numbers when the words photography night catch my eye. I’m curious enough to read the message.
SENDER UNKNOWN: I heard about your photography tuition night and it sounds lovely. If there’s still space I’d love to take a place. Please let me know the place, time and date. Thanks Sarah.
I frown and scroll to the other two messages. They are both along similar lines, asking to join the photography night that I’d decided to abandon. How the hell does anyone know about it?
The room seems to fold in on itself and I have a desperate urge to get out into the fresh air. I leave my phone on the side and grab my satchel and head outside.
‘Perfect timing.’
My head snaps up as I bump straight into a beaming Greg. Of all the people I am desperate to see, he is not one of them. The phone call telling him it was over was awkward enough.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘I’m being who you wanted me to be.’ He smiles even wider as if that explains everything.
I frown at him, clueless.
‘Spontaneous.’ He nudges me, taking in my confusion. ‘The tie and the hair were stupid. This is better. Go pack a bag.’
‘Go do what?’ I’m stunned.
‘Pack some things. I’m taking you away for a few days. And …’ there’s a dramatic pause, ‘… we’re going with your parents. I thought with the café closed and everything, you could do with a break before you start at the office with me.’
Fiery heat scorches through my body. ‘Are you fucking kidding me?’
The tension descending is ice age in proportion.
‘I really had to persuade them, but I thought you’d like it.’ He’s scratching the back of his neck.
‘You can’t turn up here and expect me to drop everything.’
‘Drop what? There’s no café. You’re not doing anything,’ he snaps. ‘This is what you wanted me to be. Exciting. Spontaneous.’
The furious flames in my belly are licking upwards into my chest. ‘You have absolutely no idea who I am.’ My voice has gone up an octave.
‘And for your information, I do have things to be doing. I’m running a photography course.
Not taking a bloody boring, soul-sucking office job.
And there is no way I’m going away with you or my parents. ’ I stiffen my spine and glare at him.
‘Please come?’ His shoulders drop a little. ‘They’ll be here any minute.
My eyes widen. He’s got to be joking. My parents are coming here?
Before I can say anything else my dad’s car rumbles around the corner. By the time they’re standing next to us, the icy atmosphere has only intensified.
‘Isn’t this lovely of Greg?’ Mum says brightly with a wide smile on her face.
I shove my tightly curled fist into my hoodie pocket and continue glaring at Greg.
‘Are you ready to go?’ The enthusiasm in her voice is waning and she looks warily between Greg and me.
I don’t care that Greg has got my parents all the way down here. He should have asked.
I take a breath. ‘I’m not going.’
Mum’s face drops, but Dad’s eyes narrow and his look prickles the hair on the back of my neck.
‘We have dropped everything to accommodate this. Don’t be ridiculous.’
His tone douses the fire that had been raging in my belly. Maybe I should go and keep the peace?
‘Ellie was just going to get her bag,’ says Greg like a cute little puppy sucking up to its owner. ‘Weren’t you, love?’
Three pairs of eyes swivel to stare at me. Mum’s hopeful, Greg’s expectant and Dad’s still disapproving.
‘We’ve not got all day. Get a move on,’ snaps Dad.
On automatic pilot I turn and take two steps towards my front door, then stop. Who the hell is he talking to? I’m not fifteen anymore. I’m a grown bloody woman.
In slow motion I swing back to face everyone.
‘I’m not going,’ I repeat, steeling myself to not flinch from their stares.
‘We thought you’d like it?’ Mum’s voice is timid. ‘We don’t see you very often. And thought you’d like time away with Greg?’
‘I didn’t ask for this. Greg and I, we’re done. And he knows that. I have no idea what he thinks he’s doing.’
‘I didn’t think you meant it.’ Greg’s face reddens, heat rising up his neck. ‘Just because I sprung this on you. Don’t be stupid.’
‘Stupid?’ The fire in my belly is roaring again. ‘No, Greg. Stupid is being railroaded into a job I don’t want and not having someone support me in what I do want to do. And most of all, stupid is thinking our casual sex meant we had a basis for a real relationship.’
Greg’s mouth is opening and closing like a goldfish out of water gasping for air.
Dad gives an aggressive scoff. ‘This is about that boy, isn’t it? Jackson.’ His face screws up as he spits out his name.
‘No. It isn’t.’ I fling my hands out in frustration. ‘This is nothing to do with him. This is to do with me.’
‘I have better things to be doing than standing around here.’ Dad is wagging his index finger at me. ‘Your mother persuaded me this was a good idea.’
‘No one thought to ask me though, did they?’ I take a step back. ‘No one ever thinks to include me in anything. I’m sick of people trying to run my life and me doing what I’m told.’
‘Now you are being ridiculous. We only want what is best for you,’ says Dad.
‘Except that should be my choice. And from now on it is.’ My voice has got louder and my heart is rebounding wildly in my chest. ‘I’ll make my own decisions about my life and how I run it. I don’t need anyone’s interference.’
Dad opens his mouth to speak, and I fling my hand out palm up. ‘I’m done. And until you can accept that you don’t need to contact me.’
And without waiting for an answer, I turn my back on them all and march away, my head held high, but a deep sick feeling throbbing throughout my body.
I have no idea where I’m going and put one foot in front of the other along the coast road, my head down, staring at the gravel of the road.
I have never spoken to my parents the way I just have and I’m beginning to regret it.
I force my feet to keep walking and decide I’ll cut across the library green and down the steps onto the beach.
Maybe I should paddle out into the sea and never come out?
A toddler’s wail breaks into my thoughts and the closer I get to the bend in the road, the louder it becomes.
‘I want ice sceem. Where’s it gone?’
An adult answers in a lower voice, so it’s impossible to catch the words.
‘No! I want from here. Ice sceem, now.’ The shout merges into loud sobs.
I feel sorry for whoever it is. Grumpy little ones test the patience of saints.
I round the bend and realise why the crying voice sounded familiar.
Olly is lying on his back, kicking his legs repeatedly into the ground.
His fists are curled tight and his little face is bright red.
Reeni is standing next to him, talking to Milo. Crap.
‘Olly, get up. The van isn’t here. We can get ice cream from Bert’s Bakery,’ says Reeni, bending over him.
‘Olly wants ice sceem from van,’ Olly wails again, his balled-up fists rubbing his eyes.
As Reeni straightens, our eyes meet. Everything fades around me and I panic.
Do I go towards her? Offer to help? Say hello?
Before I’ve made a decision, Reeni makes it for me.
She turns her back on me and stoops to scoop Olly up in her arms. She says something to Milo and then walks in the direction of Main Street, Olly kicking and squirming in her arms.
There’s a pain in the back of my throat as I try in vain to swallow. Milo raises a hand and calls out, ‘Hello.’
I feebly raise a hand back and then break into a run towards the concrete steps down onto the beach.
I take them two at a time. Each step jars and then my feet sink in the dry sand at the bottom.
I continue to run along the dune line. Sharp pains scorch my calves from having to work so hard and my chest feels like it’s going to explode as I gasp for breath.
I push my legs to work even harder to block everything out.