Chapter 13
Kitty and Antoinette’s Airbnb, West Hollywood, Los Angeles
After Antoinette has disappeared from view, a wave of tiredness washes over me.
It can’t still be jet lag, can it? I lean back on the lounger and close my eyes, stretching my legs out and letting the sun hit them.
I’m almost asleep when my phone starts vibrating next to me.
I reach for it, expecting it to be Tor again, but the name on the caller ID sends me spiralling.
It’s Charlie.
I’m almost scared to answer it. Is him calling me a good thing? Has he realised he’s missed me more than words can say? Does he want me back? Or is it a bad thing? Were there some things he forgot to say to me when he dumped me? Is he calling to tell me a few more home truths?
Only one way to find out.
‘Charlie?’ But there’s no answer on the other end of the phone.
All I can hear is some rustling and something that sounds like someone laughing underwater.
‘Charlie?’ I say again but there’s still no reply.
I guess he must’ve pocket-dialled me. ‘Charlie!’ I shout this time and I must be loud enough for him to hear because there’s more rustling and then a breathless Charlie comes on the line.
‘Kitty?’ he says and his voice still makes me feel things no other man has ever made me feel.
‘Hi,’ I say, feeling suddenly shy. I can’t believe we’re talking.
‘I’m so sorry,’ he says. ‘I called you by accident. I don’t know how that … like I said, I’m sorry.’
‘That’s okay,’ I say. ‘I just wondered what you wanted.’
‘Nothing.’ He gives an awkward laugh. ‘I should take you off my favourites really. I’m sorry.’
Take me off favourites? God, he knows how to hurt me. It’s like a knife.
‘How are you?’ I say, not wanting him to end the call.
‘I’m all right,’ he says. ‘You?’
‘I’m not too bad,’ I say, even though I’m terrible. It’s not cool to let the man who obliterated your heart know that though. ‘I’m in LA!’
‘Oh right, that’s nice.’
I’m waiting for him to ask who I’m with. Maybe he thinks I’m with a man and it’ll make him so jealous he has to fly out here and beg me to get back with him. But he doesn’t.
‘I’m with Antoinette,’ I say. Jesus, I feel sorry for myself at this point. He literally doesn’t care who I’m with.
‘That’s great,’ he says, although he doesn’t sound like he really thinks that at all. ‘Doing some sisterly bonding?’
‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘Something like that. What have you been up to?’
‘Not much,’ he says. ‘Just quite busy with work. You know.’
It’s a weird thing for him to say because he knows I’ve never had a job in my life.
‘I miss you.’ It slips out before I even know it’s coming.
‘Kits, don’t do this.’
‘What? We can still be friends, can’t we?
’ I don’t know why I’m saying this. I know there’s no way I could ever just be friends with this man.
The thought of seeing him and not being able to touch him, not being able to kiss him, having to listen to him talk about other women …
it just wouldn’t work. It would kill me.
But.
Is it better to have him in my life as a friend than as nothing at all?
There’s a long silence and then Charlie says, ‘Look, Kits, I have to go. I’m sorry I called you. I’m glad you’re doing okay though. Hope you have a great holiday.’
‘Oh,’ I say. ‘Okay. Bye.’
‘Bye.’
And then the call ends.
I stare at my phone screen for a minute. I’m not sure why. I guess that I’m hoping he’ll call back and tell me that he misses me too. But the phone stays irritatingly silent. I’m just about to slip it back into my pocket when an iMessage notification pops up.
Charlie.
I miss you too.
He misses me too.
He misses me too!
I frantically start typing out a text to him.
Shouldn’t be over here too long. Maybe we could have drinks or something when I’m back.
I press send.
He misses me!
Surely that’s a good sign? Surely that means he’s open to at least talking to me about what happened.
I wait for the message to deliver. But it doesn’t. It must be the signal here. I try to send it again but it still doesn’t go through. Then I try to send it as an SMS. That doesn’t deliver either. I stare at my phone in disbelief. This can’t be happening.
He’s blocked me.
I can’t believe he’s blocked me.
I quickly open WhatsApp and scroll to the last conversation I had with him on there. Sure enough, his profile picture has disappeared, replaced with that anonymous grey silhouette, absolute proof that I’ve been blocked.
He really doesn’t want me to contact him.
I’m about to cry when I remember that we’ve got location sharing switched on in the Cloud. I quickly open the app, expecting him to have removed that as well. But it’s still there.
Charlie’s iPhone.
He’s obviously forgotten to turn it off.
I click on the little phone icon and watch as the map zooms in on London, pinpointing exactly where my ex-boyfriend is right now.
Lewisham.
What’s he doing in Lewisham?
Charlie lives in Clapham and works in Brixton. Why would he be in Lewisham?
Then I remember something; Charlie might not live in Lewisham but Jenna does.
Jenna is the annoyingly earnest and blonde do-gooder who works for Charlie’s charity.
She’s not made any secret of the fact that she’s got a huge crush on him.
She’s also the woman I accused Charlie of cheating on me with when he vanished in Cannes in the summer.
When he was actually kidnapped and being drugged in an Airbnb by Antoinette’s psychotic brother.
Yeah, my bad. He was furious that I thought he was being unfaithful.
Even crosser about that than about me being a serial killer.
But it looks like he’s with Jenna now. I’m sure she’s only too willing to let him cry on her shoulder about our break-up.
I’ve probably pushed him right into her arms.
The tears really do come now.
They come so hard that I wonder if they’re ever going to stop.