Authors: Kirsty Greenwood
I don't believe her. What's been happening with Riley may be 'just sex', fair enough. But that 'just sex' was real. I DIDN'T imagine his desire for me. I'm sure of it.
Honey giggles, the tickling sound of it scratching my eardrums.
“
You poor, poor thing.
”
And without another word she floats off out of the room, leaving behind only the sickly sweet smell of her
Chloë
perfume.
Shudder.
I curl up on the bed for ten minutes, waiting for my heart to slow down its frantic racing. What is happening to my life?
I dry my hair and get dressed. I need to speak to Riley right away. I need to know what the bloody hell is going on and why his ex - is she even is his ex? - has turned into a complete nutjob.
I hurry down the stairs and into the kitchen, trying my best to hold back the tears. But I get there just in time to see Riley and Honey engaged in a very intimate looking hug. Riley is oblivious to me standing in the doorway, his eyes closed as he and Honey embrace. But Honey notices me standing there and gives me a slow 'I told you so' smile.
Of course. Honey’s right. Why would he want messy, weak brained me when he's got beautiful, elegant, (slightly crazy but maybe in a glamourous way) her.
I'm such an idiot! I'm such a gullible idiot. A strangled sob escapes me.
This place is crazy. I've got to get out of here.
On my way out of the pub I notice Dionne who is chatting away to a local while Jean-Paul Gaultier drinks from a bowl of water at the side of the bar.
She catches sight of me and waves.
“
I had to tell her, Natalie,
”
she shrugs.
“
Honey's become a friend. Why should she have to be sad about breaking up with Riley when he totes is
not
sad about it? You don't, like, have the monopoly on telling the truth.
”
Jesus.
“
You're my SISTER!
”
I blast out so loudly that the entire population of the pub stops what they are doing to gawp at me in horror.
“
It doesn't matter what I've done, whether it's wrong or right,
”
I say, ignoring the whispering and offended tuts going on around me.
“
You're my
sister
. You're supposed to be on
my side
.
”
Dionne's cheeks colour.
“
You're mad at me?
”
she asks.
Oh hell.
“
Yes!
”
I cry at once. And then the floodgates open.
“
You walk around in Dionne World, giving your loyalty to new friends, who you've known for less than a week and who, by the way, don't give a shit about you. You stick your nose in where it doesn't belong. You make everything about you! You don't know when to shut up.
”
“
What are you on about?
”
“
Telling Olly about the radio, telling mum about Olly, telling Honey about Riley and me!
”
Alan comes out from behind the bar.
“
Now now ladies. That's quite enough.
”
Dionne starts to cry. Big far tears plopping down onto her chin.
“
I was trying to help.
”
“
No you weren't,
”
I scoff.
“
You like the drama. It's all a load of fun to you! You're
a gossip,
Dionne. Well I'm not laughing anymore.
”
And then, once I've said my piece, I flee the pub
.
Snow can kiss my larger than average arse.
I'm on my way to find Meg and am halfway up the hill between The Old Whimsy and Hobbs Manor when it occurs to me that making this journey on my own, wearing trainers instead of wellies and without a coat isn't the shrewdest thing I've ever embarked upon. But then again neither was coming back to Little Trooley, agreeing to appear on the radio when my brain is totally compromised, or having kitchen sex with a virtual stranger. So freezing to death out here would be just about what I deserve for managing to get myself into such a gigantic, shitting mess.
In another genius move, I'm finding my way to Hobbs Manor by the power of moonlight. I've been walking for fifteen minutes and didn't think about that fact that December weather means it goes from daylight
to night-time at precisely five o’clock
.
It's now five-
fifteen.
I shiver and push on up the hill, focusing on the warm
yellow
lights i
n the distance.
I pull out my phone and try ringing Meg again, let her know I'm on my way. But there's no answer.
Totally frustrated, I can't help but have another little cry. The floodgates have opened. I have now become one of those girls who cry all the time. I feel like Gwyneth Paltrow. I don't think I'm just upset about the Riley thing. It's not like I love him. Obviously. But the being lied to is not nice at all. I feel like an idiot. It's like the universe is telling me to stick to what I know. I knew Karma would get me. The one time I decide not to be completely responsible and it comes to bite me on the arse.
I think about Olly. Olly w
ouldn't have lied to me.
Olly
loves
me. I bawl even louder at the thought of him. My phone jingles in my bag. It's
M
um. Shit. I still haven't spoken to her since Olly called off the wedding. I consider not answering again, but she's only going to keep trying.
“
Hiya Mum,
”
I say, sniffing and shivering.
She doesn't say hello; just gets straight to the point as usual.
“
I've just had a phone call from you
r
Auntie Jan, telling me you're on the telly. I thought she'd forgotten to take her medication but I switch it on to Channel Manchester and she's right. There you are on the telly. What the bloody hell are you doing on the telly?
”
I'm on the telly? Why the
…
Oh wait... My stomach drops as I think about the YouTube filming of my interview with Barney. Well he's obviously kept that end of the bargain up, getting local media to pick up the story, something I only agreed to when I thought he was going to edit out all of the embarrassing stuff.
“
Shit, M
um. It's the radio interview I did. I'm so sorry. How embarrassing. It's only Channel Manches
ter though, M
um. It's cable. No one watches it.
”
“
Well I bloody did! You look ridiculous. And you sound ridiculous. You know they interviewed your boss? He seems to think you are in rehab for drug addiction. And Olly! They’ve been hounding him, as if the poor lad hasn’t been through enough.
”
“
Oh G
od. Stone. Shit. I’m so sorry, M
um. Shit. What am I going to do? I don’t know what to do!
”
I start crying again.
“
What am I going to tell the women at bridge? My daughter has gone mental? My daughter has gone mental and then broadcast it on the telly? You've gotten yourself into a right flaming mess. No wonder Olly doesn't want to marry you. You're obviously having some kind of crisis -
”
Suddenly, I stop walking. I can't believe what I'm hearing. Mum is exactly the same as Dionne. They're cut from exactly the same completely selfish cloth. How is this about
her
? Why is that all she’s worried about? What, she can’t cope being on her own, and she thinks I can't either?
“
... I had to tell them that I no longer get to be mother of the bride.
You have no thoughts for anyone else. You're just like your dad, Natalie. Self-centred.
”
“
Mum, I’m sorry. I am. But now is really not a good time to have this conversation -
”
“
Do you think it's a good time for me?
I've had a terrible time of it.
I'm weary and heartbroken. The only shining light was your bloody wedding! And now -
”
She goes on. And on. And on.
And then something odd happens. She doesn't ask me a question so I don't have to tell her the truth. But I'm so angry. It's feels like unbearable churning in my chest and stomach. I've never felt so angry. I'm stuck on a massive hill in the middle of nowhere in the freezing cold, in need of a little comfort and here she is telling me off, telling me what a bad daughter I am. So even though the hypnotism doesn't force me to tell her the truth. I do anyway.
“
You're the selfish one!
”
I cry out in anguish.
“
You say I'm a bad daughter. But you're a bad mum. You made me leave my life! Dad has gone Mum and you need to get to grips with it. You’re better off without him. I was happy at catering college and living with Meg, and you demanded that I come back and -
”
“
I did not, Natalie.
”
“
You did. You said that you were worried what you might do if you were alone. What was I supposed to do? What choice did I have? That’s so much to put all on one person.
”
“
Watch your tone, young -
”
“
No. I
won't watch my tone. I'm twenty-
seven years old. I'm a grown up. And I was happy to be there for you. Always. I love you. But all you do is get at me! You’ve got to understand that I have my own life to lead!
”
“
I'm looking out for you! That’s all I’ve ever done. You ungrate-
”
“
You're looking out for yourself.
”
I yell into the wind.
“
Making sure we're all as fucking miserable as you are.
”
Silence for a moment.
“
Right,
”
Mum whispers.
“
Of course.
”
And ever so gently she clicks the phone down.
Fuck.
Fuck.
What have I done? I go to ring her back immediately to apologise, but then stop myself before I’ve finished dialling the number.
No.
I will
not
feel guilty. I will not. She can't keep treating people like that. She can’t treat
me
like this.
But you didn't have to be so harsh.
Whatever.
I shake my shoulders and concentrate on ignoring the annoying guilt voice that pipes up in my head.
I'll just phone her later, when I've calmed down. It'll be fine.
Close to hypothermia I finally reach the gates of Hobbs Manor. It's the grandest house I've ever seen. The same caramel coloured bricks as the rest of the village houses, but these bricks are massive, each one about half the size of the door. And it's an enormous door. Black and shiny. I knock on it and almost laugh when it creaks open at my touch. It's like something off a scary movie.
“
Hello?
”
I shout popping my head in.
“
Um, Jasper? Meg? I'm here. I mean, it's Natalie. I'm coming in!
”
I tentatively take a few steps in and gasp at the huge entrance surrounding me. Directly in front of me lies a gorgeously ostentatious staircase that separates into two more staircases at the top. I look up towards the highest ceiling I've ever seen. Wow. This really is like something out of a film! I step further in, wondering where everyone is. Shouldn't there be an old butler or something? I'm not quite sure what to do. If I go any further into the house I'm technically breaking in. But...
the door is open… Oh Gosh, what if the door is open because someone is robbing the place, or someone is in here murdering Alfred Hobbs for his shitload of money? Oh man, what if Meg has gotten caught up in the crime and is tied up with lengths of thick rope in the drawing room?
I click the door shut behind me and venture past the staircase and down a red carpeted corridor. I pause when I hear voices. Or is it one voice? I walk in the direction of the voice and stop when I reach the room it's coming from. It sounds like Jasper. I'm about to knock on the door when I realise that his low voice sounds highly agitated and so completely different to the smooth, calm composure I heard at the barn dance. The nosy cow in me puts an ear against the door and listens hard.
“
You should have left it alone. You're going to ruin it all!
”