by Clare Lydon
Every word was true. Ruby’s gut told her so. She wanted to rewind. She’d do anything to rewind. To take them back to the gig, and what happened afterwards. She didn’t want to be jealous of Delilah. She didn’t want to make Fran upset and disappointed with her. She wanted to be the perfect girlfriend, and the perfect singer. But she was neither. She was failing miserably on all counts. Her breath rasped as fear lodged in her throat. This was it. She’d blown it. She clutched her phone in desperation. “Fran, you have to believe me. I don’t think you’re scheming against me—”
“You just said you did! You accused me of getting you publicity for my own gain. Which is just ridiculous. And insulting. Like you think I’m a sort of prostitute, which every woman always wants to hear. You really fucking need to work on your charm skills, Ruby. But fine. Go ahead. Blame me for getting eyeballs on you. Blame me for wanting more for you than you even dare to dream of. If you think this is all one elaborate ruse to get you to sign with me, then fuck you, Ruby. Maybe we should call it quits.”
The line went dead. Fran had hung up.
Ruby stared at her phone. If she thought she’d been hollowed out before, she certainly was now. Her skin sagged. Her bones buckled. Her heart slumped on the floor. Was that really it? Was that how this ended? Her brain refused to believe it.
Ruby had just pressed the self-destruct button on the truest connection she’d ever felt in her life, with one of the funniest and smartest women she’d ever met. Smart move. Way to go, Ruby. What a fucking gargantuan moron she was.
Ruby took a breath and dropped her head. She pressed her feet firmly to the ground to stop her from falling.
Fran had just broken up with her. Ruby’s whole body was numb. She couldn’t feel a thing. Christmas was next week. She’d entertained such fantasies about their lives when they got back to London. Museums they’d visit. Restaurants they’d eat at. Lazy weekend mornings when they’d make love. All gone. Just like that. All thanks to Ruby. Bravo.
What the hell had she just done?
Chapter 32
Fran massaged her temples and leaned back in her chair. What a week. First the Christmas party. Then the Delilah storm. Then her break-up with Ruby. And now, more social media trouble for Fast Forward, who were getting trolled from all sides, especially by the rabid fans of Cupboard Boy and Skinny YouTube Boy. It never rained, but it poured.
“Did you sort it out?” Damian poked his head around his monitor.
Thank goodness for Damian, otherwise Fran might well want to jump off a cliff at this point. She nodded. “Yes, got the accounts blocked, reported them, had a word with the team about how it got through in the first place. These girls are dealing with enough sudden fame; they don’t need this shit as well.”
“Couldn’t agree more.” Damian carried on staring at her. “Any Ruby news?”
Fran let her eyes flicker shut, then reopened them. She had Christmas presents at her feet. New bakeware and gardening stuff for Dad. New candles and some painting supplies for Pop. Also, presents for Ruby she’d bought before their phone call last week. She was still angry, but now she was more sad.
Today was Christmas Eve, a week since they’d spoken. Fran had decided to put Ruby on pause, to try to work out her own feelings and make sense of what had happened. Every brain cell in her head told her Ruby wasn’t ready for a relationship, never mind a rocket up her career. However, Fran’s heart was singing a different tune. It still recalled the way Ruby had made her feel. It still wanted to believe they had a future together.
“I dunno what to think. She sent me a few messages and a couple of voicemails saying she’s sorry, but they petered out when she realised I wasn’t going to call back. I should hate her. But I can’t believe she meant it. But why say it in the first place?”
Damian tilted his head. “We’ve all said things we didn’t mean in the heat of the moment. Plus, you look pretty sad for someone who’s thinking of giving her up.”
“Is there a future if she doesn’t trust me? If she always thinks I’m out for myself? She has a paranoid hatred of the music business.”
“She’s been burned before. You happen to be the one in the firing line. It was the same when my older brother met his wife. He thought she was going to do the dirty on him because that was his experience with women. When she turned out to be a lovely person, he wasn’t quite sure whether to believe it or not. It took her threatening to leave and my mum telling him to stop being such a twit for him to wake up. But he nearly lost her. They’ve got three kids together now and everything’s fine.”
“I don’t want three kids.”
“Just have two and a dog, then.” Damian grinned at her. “The key thing is, Ruby is reacting because of past experience and fear. You’re in a position to help her. Don’t give up on her. I don’t think you want to, either.” He paused. “Plus, you’re going home to Mistletoe today. Isn’t it against the law to be unhappy there at Christmas?”
Damian had a point.
“Would you like another random Mistletoe fact?”
Fran smiled. “I would love one.”
Damian held up his hand. All of his fingers had far too much hair on them. “Mistletoe has been associated with kissing since the 1500s. If that’s not a sign that you need to kiss someone when you get back there, I don’t know what is. Also, the berries on it are toxic to humans, so don’t eat them.”
“Do some snogging, don’t eat the berries. Got it. Are you going to your parents?” Fran had been so preoccupied with her own disaster week, she hadn’t asked Damian yet.
He nodded. “We’re driving over for lunch on Christmas Day, then we’re going to Isla’s parents for the evening. By Boxing Day, I will be the size of a cow.”
“A lovely, wise cow.” Fran sighed. “I thought my parents moving to Mistletoe would mean an idyllic Christmas with lashings of snow and no drama.”
“You’ve got the snow.” Damian pointed out the window where snowflakes were falling. “And you might still get a drama-free Christmas. Although, drama-free Christmases are over-rated if you ask me.” He paused. “Have you checked the trains, by the way? The snow’s affecting them.”
Fran clicked her jaw left, then right. She hadn’t. When she did, there were a raft of cancellations on her line. Of course there were. She had to get home or her parents would be crushed.
“How you feeling, Delilah?” shouted someone in the office.
Fran sat up, her gaze scanning the space until it fell on her ex walking towards her.
“Better than Tuesday!” Delilah shouted back, and the whole office laughed. Delilah was getting good at laughing at herself. Wonders would never cease.
“Hey, Damian,” Delilah said, giving him a wave.
Damian waved back.
When she got to Fran, Delilah held out some keys. “I come bearing gifts. A grovelling gift to say sorry again for Tuesday’s fuck-up. I’ve been given another car, and I know you need one over Christmas. So here are the keys to the Porsche.” She held up a finger. “No arguments, I know the trains are shit.” She paused. “Think of it as an indefinite loan.” She leaned in and whispered in Fran’s ear. “Let’s just say it’s yours if you want it. But if it causes issues with your new girlfriend, you don’t have to keep it.” She pulled back. “Will it at least help you out today?”
Fran looked down at the bags of presents at her feet, and her suitcase. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”
“Good.” Delilah pursed her lips. “Can I have a ‘you’re forgiven’ hug? Even if it’s half-hearted?”
Fran smiled. Ruby’s reaction wasn’t Delilah’s fault. She hadn’t committed the crime of the century. If Ruby couldn’t see that, then fuck her. Although, Christmas was going to be all sorts of awkward.
Fran got up and gave Delilah a hug. She held on longer than necessary, squeezing Delilah tight. It was good to have her as a friend again.
When they broke apart, Delilah eyed her. “Everything okay?”
Fran nodded. “A
ll good.” She hadn’t said anything to Delilah about Ruby. Fran was too embarrassed at love failing again.
Delilah quirked an eyebrow, but let it go. “Also, and I know you probably won’t take me up. But if Ruby needs someone to talk to — someone who’s been there and knows what it’s like to overcome stage fear — call me.”
Fran snorted. “You’re right, she probably won’t, but thanks.” She paused. “Are you leaving for home soon?”
Delilah nodded. “Into the lion’s den. Wish me luck heading to my worst Christmas yet.”
“It might not be so bad.”
Delilah cocked her head. “Stop it with your glass half full, you’re freaking me out.” She kissed Fran’s cheek. “Have a great Christmas.”
Fran got back to Mistletoe around 7pm, after the Porsche purred its way along the M11 and got her home in record time.
Her parents wouldn’t stop hugging her.
“You don’t need your car back when you’ve got this, do you?” Dad ran his hand along the Porsche 911’s sleek exterior.
“Talking of that, any update from the garage?” Fran asked.
Dad shook his head. “I spoke to the bloke yesterday. The part still hasn’t arrived. It’s looking like January.” He gave her a small pout, then grabbed her bags and they walked inside.
“You look laden with presents this year.” Pop closed the front door with one of his crutches.
“Got to spoil my favourite men,” Fran replied.
“But first, let us spoil you. We haven’t eaten yet, we’ve been waiting for you. Dad made your favourite: salmon en croute!” Pop’s face lit up.
Dad stood next to him, his festive apron covered in flour. Fran hugged them again. Her love life might be up the spout, but she could rely on her parents to put a smile on her face. Also, the dinner smelt incredible. She already knew there was an obscene amount of butter in Dad’s pastry.
“It smells delicious and sounds heavenly. Let me put my stuff upstairs, freshen up and then I’ll come down for a glass of wine and some food.”
Fran hung up her coat, scarf and hat, then followed her dad upstairs, after he insisted on carrying her case. Left alone, she changed, then gave herself a pep talk in the mirror about putting on a brave face and not spoiling her parents’ Christmas Eve. She was ready to do just that when she walked down the stairs, smoothing down her light-grey jumper. Her Christmas face was on, even though being in such close proximity to Ruby made her heart quake. She’d deal with tomorrow when it happened.
Fran reached the bottom stair when there was a knock at the front door.
She opened it with a smile that was soon wiped from her face when she saw who it was.
Ruby.
Fran gulped. She wasn’t prepared to see her yet. She had a speech written in her head for tomorrow, a list of how their relationship could and couldn’t work.
But now Ruby was in front of her, all that was out the window. Looking into Ruby’s green gaze, Fran’s body lit up. She recalled how dark her eyes got when she was aroused. How sparkly they got when she spoke about Christmas. How just being this close to her made Fran’s pulse race. These were the factors she couldn’t account for on paper.
“Hi.” Ruby shivered, then folded her arms across her chest. Her eyes darted to Fran’s face, then pulled away. Ruby’s gaze skittered around until it eventually landed back on its initial target.
“I know you only just got home. I was in the front garden when I saw your Porsche drive by.” She held up a hand. “I’m not stalking you, I promise. I just thought I’d act now, before I lost my nerve. I got the message you didn’t want to talk with me last week when you didn’t answer my texts and calls. I know I was in the wrong. I know I still am. I just wanted to come over and smooth things out before tomorrow. To make sure we can be civil to each other for Christmas, at least.” Behind Ruby, the snow had stopped, but the night was still freezing.
“Who is it, Fran?” Dad called, before appearing in the hallway.
When he saw it was Ruby, he raised both eyebrows. “I’ll leave you to it.” He disappeared at speed.
Fran had given him skeleton details on the phone earlier in the week. She stared at Ruby, battling with herself, then relented. She wanted to talk to her, so she might as well do it now. “Come in.” Fran shut the door when Ruby was inside.
“I’ve never seen a parent disappear so quickly.”
“Sometimes, they’re well trained. Most of the time, they’re not.” Fran stared. “You want to come up?”
Ruby nodded. “Sure.” She took off her boots and coat, then followed Fran upstairs.
This was the second time Fran had invited Ruby to her bedroom, but this time, annoyance pulsed inside her. Fran had no idea how this was going to go. Ruby had broken their relationship, and Fran had no idea if it could be fixed. The doctors had mended her pop’s leg with a cast, and time. Fran was sure if their relationship could heal, it would also take time. The first move would determine their future, and it was Ruby’s to make.
Fran cleared the bags of gifts from the floor by her bed and invited Ruby to sit. Her parents had left her fresh towels, along with a sprig of mistletoe. Fran frowned. She wasn’t sure that was going to be needed. She moved them to the opposite side of the bed.
Ruby smoothed down her jeans as she sat next to her.
Fran stared at Ruby’s gorgeous face, her shiny lips. The same ones that had accused Fran of using her.
Fran wasn’t going to be won over so easily.
“I just want you to know that I’m sorry. Really sorry. I reacted badly, and I accused you of something that was a bit ridiculous.”
“A lot ridiculous.”
Ruby hung her head. “Okay, a lot. But I want you to know that this is my issue and it’s all about trust. I know I need to deal with it. I also know that you have always had my best interests at heart, even when I really didn’t deserve that. Again, I’m truly sorry. For everything.”
Fran heard what Ruby said, but she wasn’t budging just yet. Ruby spoke a good game, but words were cheap.
“I saw Delilah lent you her car again.”
If Ruby was about to have a go about that, it would be the final straw. Every muscle in Fran’s body stiffened. “She did. She gave it to me, actually. As a thank you, and a sorry.”
“She gave you a Porsche?”
Fran nodded. “She also told me I didn’t have to accept it if it was going to cause issues with you. But if you can’t take me being in contact with exes who are still my friends, then we’re not going to work.” She hadn’t planned to say that, but it was true. Delilah was in Fran’s life, like it or not.
Ruby stared at Fran for a few moments. “Look, I know you’re pissed off with me and you have every right to be. You’re not trying to manipulate me. I get that. Delilah did what she did, and in the cold light of day, I’m grateful. I’m getting so much interest, it’s blowing my mind. My song is in the charts. I’m making money. That’s amazing.”
Fran kept her game face on. “It is.” Ruby acknowledging that was a good thing.
“I’ve only glanced at the emails quickly. I’ve been too busy here. I’m not making any decisions yet because it’s Christmas, so they can wait.” Ruby looked Fran in the eye. “I know I messed up, but I really want to try again. I missed you so much this week. I missed us.” She paused. “If you’re willing, I’d love for you to look at these offers of festivals and collaborators with me. To give me some advice. You know the business better than anyone and I’d love some help to make the right decisions.” Ruby’s lip wobbled, and she took Fran’s hand.
Confusion rippled through Fran. Ruby might be the biggest bundle of insecurities she’d seen in such an accomplished artist, but it came with the territory. All artists were a curious mix of confidence and self-doubt. Ruby just needed to work on the former. She was tough enough. She just needed belief. Fran could help her.
What’s more, holding Ruby’s hand was everything. Whatever they had was still there
, beating loudly inside her. It hadn’t gone away in a week. Perhaps their relationship did just need a plaster cast, and some time.
“I’m not sorry about that video going viral.”
Ruby shook her head. “Neither am I.”
“Good. Also, just to be clear, I don’t want to sign you anymore, either. You’d be a nightmare. I already have enough of them on my books.”
The corners of Ruby’s mouth twitched at that. “We’re on the same page, then. Plus, I’m still not signing with anyone.”
“I charge a £500 a day consultancy fee for my help, too,” Fran added.
Ruby’s eyes widened. “Oh. I…”
“I’m kidding.” Fran finally allowed herself a half-smile. “Damn, you’re easy to wind up.”
Ruby’s gaze was uncertain. “And you’re very forgiving.”
“You’re not forgiven quite yet. I want to know that any advice or nudging I give you, you’re not going to throw the ‘pushy music exec’ line at me. I am who I am. I want to help make you a success.”
Ruby nodded. “I know that. I promise, no music exec jibes. They’re banned.” She squeezed Fran’s hand. “Just know, this week has been hell. I’ve hated what I said to you and I’ve been battling myself. I’m my own worst enemy, I know that. But time away from everything has given me perspective. I’ve talked to the trees and they think I should get out of my own way. Even my dad told me he doesn’t want me back here next year helping out. He wants me to forge my path. Pursue my goals.” Ruby gave Fran a grin. “Feel the fear and do it anyway, as someone wise once told me.”
Fran held Ruby’s gaze, hope blooming in her soul. “They sound very wise.”
Ruby nodded. “Terrifyingly beautiful, too.” Her gaze sank to Fran’s lips.
Fran snapped her fingers. “Stop looking at my lips. We’re not done.”
Ruby sat upright.
“I need you to mean what you’re telling me. To stop hiding behind limiting excuses. You could do many things, but the one you’re best at is being a singer-songwriter. Lean into that one.”