“I put her in the car. I found my way back to town, and there and then, I knew I’d stay here. The vet, you know up at Whitt Farm, said she was just dehydrated. I bought a collar and food and took her home. I saved her life, and she kinda saved mine.
“I called her Captain Lucky Knickers. Cap stuck. I’ve been building a tiny life for myself here. Quiet. A few people in it, but tame, reserved, at least I try to be. Not well, though.” She stopped waffling.
He was processing what she had said. They sat in silence, and she took a deep breath. He was scowling still. She wanted to touch him, she wanted his reassurance, but she didn’t have it, and she couldn’t ask.
“Perhaps you should take me home.”
He nodded, and her legs grew leaden, and he still hadn’t said anything. She made herself get in his car. She had a feeling it would be too much for him to hear. It was too much for herself when she thought about it for any length of time.
He drove steadily and rolled into park outside her house. Now or never.
“You want to come in?” she kept a light note in her voice.
“I’m going to go back to my place. I think it’s best if…look, I can’t…I’m not sure this is a good idea. Us. I mean, it was great but, I don’t know if…”
She just sat completely motionless. All the worst things she thought about herself clawed at the back of her mind. “It’s fine. I understand.”
“Do you?”
“Yeah. I should have told you before, I’m sorry.” The pain of it took her breath. “All the best Ryan.” She offered a weak smile.
She was out of his car like a rocket. He sighed and wondered if made a huge mistake. The look on her face cut him. He nearly got out of his car, but he didn’t, he went home.
The whole way, he wanted to turn around and apologise, take her into his arms, but he was too confused. She was a fantasy; she couldn’t possibly be real, be her. No, it wasn’t possible, he was projecting, but he couldn’t reconcile it or stop thinking about it.
Nine. Rewrites
Em didn’t feel anything at first. Nothing. Her house was quiet, other than for the occasional hum of her fridge, and Cap stayed by her side. A cold emptiness sliced into her, opening up the past.
She stayed up all that night thinking and turned off her phone after the fourth call. The night was cooler, and near dawn, the heavens opened, and the grey dawn crept through the rain.
She didn’t cry, there wasn’t enough to cry over, it was only one night, but it had been more than that, they both knew it. If she had a nicer past maybe it would be different, but she had shown him her ugliness, and he rejected her. It played into the worst feelings she had about herself.
When her father was sick, a man she barely knew, she cared for him, a care company came in and did for him in the morning, but Em dealt with his slow death, dealt with the horror of it, and she was alone through it.
She gave up her life, who she had been, and didn’t think twice about it at the time, why, why had she done that?
The memory of when she met Dom - the gross pervy weirdo - shuffled its way into her mind. It was so strange thinking back on it, how did a thirty-year-old man, think it was okay to fuck a seventeen-year-old. She shuddered at the memory. She thought she was so mature, so grown up, but she was a fool.
Angie, lovely Angie had saved her, had helped her find her way in the aftermath of what he had put her through, and Em had abandoned that life in a flash. She wondered if she ever really wanted it, or had she just told herself that she did. Fake it until you feel it. She had told herself that so many times.
The truth was she didn’t know who she was, or who she wanted to be anymore.
Jess dropped in on Wednesday. Em was working at her desk, hiding from the world.
“What happened?”
Em didn’t answer her but carried on working, and barely looked at her friend. “Em?”
“Jess, I need to work, I want to get this it down. I thought that I might go away for a bit. Spend some time with Auntie Di.”
“I saw him.” Jess fidgeted.
“I don’t care.”
“Really?”
Em turned to her friend. “No. We fucked, but it’s done. No one wants a whore for a girlfriend.”
“You’re not a whore.”
“The truth is irreverent; people see what they want. Women who fuck, are whores. You should have seen him. One minute he’s into me, I tell him everything, and it’s as if I didn’t exist. I was right from the off about him, too many problems.”
“He feels bad about it.”
“Does he? How sweet.” She spoke absently.
“He wants to talk to you, but seeing as you’ve blocked his number...”
Em turned abruptly in her chair, the cooler breeze in the dim day lifting wisps of her hair. “What is it you want exactly? He rejected me, after him being a dick to me, I gave in, I gave him a chance, and each time he’s fucked me off like I’m a piece of shit and don’t have feelings. What would you like me to do? Say please, I enjoy being emotionally abused. I’ve been there Jess, and if I’m honest, I’m not entirely sure I’m okay. You can tell him, no. That is the end of the matter.”
“I’m Carl’s girlfriend.”
“You were my friend first, and I see your priorities now. But okay. I’m glad you’re happy, but do not ask me to be okay with him.”
“You don’t always make it easy on others, Em,” Jess said it kindly, and maybe she was right, but at that moment, it was not what Em needed to hear.
Em’s hands shook a little when she went back to typing. She needed to get on with things, and none of them had anything to do with a man or anyone else. Jess left in a huff, and their friendship changed with her going.
The following week, Em took Cap, and they headed north to Northumberland, it was colder and wetter the day they drove up.
The warmth of Auntie Di and Uncle Bob raised Em’s spirits. She had a view of nothing but hills and land from her bedroom, the desk under the window was the perfect place to write, and she did. Em spoke at length with the round and warm woman about her father, and the family that her mother had denied Em for all her life. It was inviting, the reality of family, and what she needed at that moment.
She finished ‘Ryan’s’ book. She wrote how she wished their relationship had gone, put right the mistakes, and made him love her.
It was oddly cathartic. Em understood that she loved the man he could be if he’d let himself be that man, but she doubted he could, and it wasn’t up to her to change him, it came from within, it came from want.
Em was little more than a sex toy to any man that she was with. She was nothing, no one, a glorified stripper who wrote porn. She sent off her first pass to her agent, and in a dark, nihilistic mood, she began to write something else.
She slept poorly, and woken by a storm she smiled into the thick damp air when she opened her window and looked out into the dark. Thunder rolled over the house, and she shivered. Heavy rain beat down onto the veranda roof. Lightning flashed.
She breathed the clean air in and powered up her laptop. Cap whined and hid under Em’s chair. She stroked and soothed the animal with her foot, while she wrote.
There were things in her, things in need of a purge. She wanted to scream it out, and rage at her past.
She had glamorised it in glitter, costumes, and dancing, but it was ugly in her heart. An ugly lie that covered up who she was.
August ended. Em had finished two books, both sent off, and she knew it was time to go home. She was oddly quiet, and a numb clarity filled her.
Em had text Jess off and on through the month, but there was a separation between them, one of Ryan’s making. She had a choice to make, lose Jess, or put up with Ryan, and that masochistic part of her knew it would be the latter because even as she knew he would hurt her, she cared about him. She kept going back to their night together, the feel of his body with hers, the sweetness of him
, the sexual part of him, and he was perfect for her.
He was a good man, despite everything that happened in his life, but was just how it was for her in her life with her grubby past.
She pulled into her driveway and let Cap out as she barked. It had been a long drive, and she was tired.
Jess invited her out that night for her birthday. It was time to face him, and herself.
Em stood in front of her overly large wardrobe and shuffled through everything for the twentieth time. She yawned, she had managed a nap, but her nervous agitation kept waking her up.
She decided on skinny jeans and a linen box top. Then changed her mind. She wasn’t going to hide because it never worked.
She picked out a very short fitted jersey dress, dark grey, with long sleeves and a high neck. Em couldn’t help it. She wore her new fuck-me heels but tempered them with opaque black tights, and bright red lipstick. One messy up do later she was ready to go.
She was jittery and uncomfortable when she reached the club and hated herself for it. When she spotted Dan, she lit up and gave her friend a long hug. He picked her up and spun her around.
“I missed you.”
“Me too, I’m so glad you’re here. I don’t feel so bad now.” He frowned at her as he set her down. She had only acknowledged Kevin and Carl with a hello. She did the same with Lewis and Ben, keeping her distance, and flanked by Dan, she ignored Ryan. He stood back, arms folded.
He didn’t scowl at her. She knew where she stood with that, she was prepared for the discomfort of it, but no, he was passive and utterly unconcerned with her. She swallowed the hurt of indifference down and focused on her breathing. Shots were lined up in front of her.
“What is the tipple of choice?” Em eyed the unknown liquid.
“Cinnamon whisky.”
“Ah fuck, this is a bad idea.” Em grinned at her friend’s face.
“Carl is on drunk girlfriend watch.”
Em turned to Dan. “You are on watch. Do not, I repeat, do not let me make a complete tit of myself.”
“All righty then, one, two, three, tallyho motherfuckers.” The two girls necked the first shot and made whisky faces. “Shit on a stick, that fucking hurts.”
Things relaxed, sort of, Em managed to feign a good time, but by the third shot, she felt the sinking unhappiness that was always with her return.
She was drunk enough to dance in her misery, and Jess pulled her out to the floor. Pretending to be happy was good enough, it was better than abject unhappiness, and she was dying inside either way. She had to suck it up and get on with it, and there was nothing else to do.
Em rested as her new shoes were killing her. Jess flopped onto her lap, and Em put her arms around her, clawing back the bond between them.
“Guys, do you like my shoes? Em bought them for me.”
Lewis whistled as Jess stretched her leg out.
She and Em did another shot, and Em started to sway.
“I do love a good pair of fuck-me shoes.” Jess laughed.
Em pushed Jess off her and staggered off to the ladies. It had been a while since she had drunk so much, and the spinning only worsened.
In two weeks, she was twenty-six. She peered into the mirror and swaying a little she searched for the inevitable signs of age in the harsh light.
She wanted to cry. Ryan completely ignored her, not because he was avoiding her, but because he didn’t care.
The delayed understanding of it was like a wallop. She bent double. He didn’t just not like her past, he didn’t like her, he’d used her for sex, and she’d encouraged him. Yet she knew that was unfair, she had pushed him, and it was her fault. He had escaped his crappy start in life and was a good person, and she was vile, and always would be.
“Em?” Jess followed her into the ladies.
“Yep.”
“You okay?”
“Just hammered. It’s all good. No more booze for me. I am done.”
“Aw, poor baby.”
“Um-hmm.”
“Gonna vom?”
“Only weaklings chuck. Imma queen.” Jess laughed as Em failed her arm out, and stood. “Well, once, long time ago.”
“Oh, you’re that level of drunk? Do you want me to find my tiny violin for your pity party?”
“Yes.” Comically upset for a second, she took a breath. “Okay, I’m done, let’s dance.”
When a guy sidled over to Em on the dancefloor, she didn’t push him away. She read his type. He was a bit drunk, and with it, he gained false bravado. He was nice looking, more her type that Ryan ever was, not too tall, lithe rather than bulky muscle. At least he could dance. He was going for it. Em pulled a face at Jess but continued to dance with him. She couldn’t feel anything, and she recoiled, pushing him away.
“What the fuck?”
“Sorry, can’t.”
She went back to their table and downed her last shot. Dan pointed his finger at her.
“I’m cutting you off.” She beamed at him, wrinkling her nose.
“Okay, you do that.” Everyone went back to their conversations, and Em just sat there, buzzed but empty and silent.
“Miss Silver? Oh my God, Miss Silver?”
Em tilted her head and closed her eyes. Someone tapped her on the shoulder, and she assumed it was the same woman that had spoken.
“Oh. Fuck.” Em swallowed, and everyone looked at her. She pivoted in slow motion, her vision leaving a vapour trail as she turned on her stool, and saw a pretty petite woman, with a dark bob, smiling up at her.
“It is you! That’s amazing. I can’t believe you’re here.”
“Nice to meet you?”
“Amy.”
Em smiled and shook hands.
“I’m a huge fan, and I followed all of the BB Ladies online. I was part of the group who were coming to your defence, but it was such a shit-storm, you didn’t deserve all that hatred. There’s a dance class I go to, and we were all horrified at what happened.”
“Yeah, it sucked balls.”
“I was gutted when you pulled all your accounts.”
“I had no choice in the end.”
“Do you still dance?” fuck.
“No, I had to give that up too.”
“No way, you were amazing. I want to say that you helped me, with my confidence. All the stuff you’d post about being comfortable in your skin,” she smiled, “about being in charge of yourself, really helped me. I admire you for that, and I’m sorry for what happened.”
Em swallowed and took a deep breath. “That’s so lovely of you to say. Makes a change from people judging me for it.”
“I always wanted to give it a go, but never had the balls.”
“It’s a lot of fun, and you can always just do it as a class, you don’t have to perform, and besides, you’re gorgeous, got a hot body, you’d do great.”
The girl blushed and shook her head.
“I go to a dance group, but it’s just regular modern, it’s fun, you should come. You should do a class, I’d go.” She smiled. “Can I have a photo?”
“Only if you don’t post it online. I need to be careful.”
“Anything you say.” The girl got out her phone and Em posed for it, with her arm around the girl, while Jess took it. Em gave her best game face, stuck her tits out, and kicked her leg back a little. It was an automatic pose. It had been her go to one most of the time she had been on stage.
The girl blushed and gushed a bit more, and went back to her friends, all of whom crowded around her excitedly. Anyone would think she’d seen an actual celebrity. Em just shook her head, bemused. Everyone stared, except Ryan, who was on his phone.
She didn’t even swear at him in her head anymore; he wasn’t worth the joy of it.
Jess ducked her head, and Dan found something fascinating on the table. Carl eyed Jess and Em.
“Okay.” He drew the word out. “What was that about?”
; “Nothing.” She did a good job at nonchalance. She mentally high-fived herself, then realised that Ryan hadn’t said anything about her to his friends. He was probably ashamed of her.
“Oh no, Miss Silver, that was not nothing.”
“Carl, do you like me, I mean, do you think I’m an okay person?”
“Yeah, you’re a laugh.”
“Do you respect me?”
“Yes.”
“Then drop it. Because you will no longer respect me, like me, or want to know me.”
“Em,” Jess spoke quietly, with a pained voice.
Carl leant forward. “Why would you say that?”
“I don’t know, ask your fucking friend.” Em turned and left. The guys all eyed each other, but not Ryan.
Em took deep breaths as the air hit her, it was petty, but fuck it, she didn’t care, she wanted to rage and scream. Dan text Jess to say they were leaving and put his arm around Em as they went to find a taxi.
In the bar, Jess read the text.
“Babe, what was that about?”
“It’s not my place to tell you, and if she doesn’t want to talk about it, let it drop.”
Ben choked and passed his phone to Carl. “Holy shit.” Jess cut a harsh look at Ben, who wasn’t a little sorry.
It was an old publicity photo of Em, in costume, one that didn’t involve much fabric. Carl read the blurb underneath it. He looked up at Jess, and she was pissed.
“Dick move.”
Em lay in comfortable, baggy, but glamorous pyjamas, with her legs across Dan’s knees while they vegged on the couch with Cap sprawled over them. Jess shuffled out of the spare room, miserable, grabbed some coffee, and joined them. “So, turns out all men are dicks.”
“Thanks.” Dan didn’t even bother sounding annoyed.
“You’re welcome.” Jess sipped her coffee.
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