Yours Truly

by Kirsty Greenwood

  Honey dives onto Meg, screeching and pulling her hair, while Jasper tries, unsuccessfully to pull her off.

  “You cheated on me?” Honey howls at him. “You cheated on me with her?”

  “Cheated!” Jasper spits. “What makes you think it’s any of your business what I do and with whom. I’ve only shagged you four times, Honey, and last night was the last time. Nobody tells Jasper Hobbs what to do. No one.”

  Robbie grabs his pint from the bar and downs it in one before resting his head in his hands like a kid who's just figured out that there’s no Father Christmas; it’s actually a drunken Uncle Jim in a Santa outfit.

  Meg is trying to untangle Honey's tiny hands from her hair and I can only join the rest of the pub in looking on with befuddlement.

  When Honey draws back with a hefty chunk of Meg's hair in her hands I decide that enough is enough. I boldly ignore my quivering insides at the very thought of another violent altercation with Honey, step in and lift her up under the arms. She weighs nothing. Good for her. I carry her through the pub and deposit her outside the doors into the snow.

  “Thanks,” Meg says when I return. “That girl is a nutter. And strong. Ouch.”

  “Tell me about it!”

  “Are you sleeping with Jasper Hobbs?” Robbie asks Meg, ashen faced.

  “God, no!” Meg says. “I promise!”

  “But Natalie said...”

  “I was confused,” I say to Robbie earnestly. “It was actually Honey in the sack with Jasper last night. Honey and Meg have the same green dress. God. I wonder how long that's been going on. I wonder if Riley knows.”

  “Huh!” Robbie looks mystified.

  “Don't worry, Robbie,” Meg soothes. “I didn't sleep with Jasper. I would never do that to you!”

  “Blimey, I’m glad,” Robbie says taking Meg's hands into his own. “Because Meg... I know it’s only been a few weeks… but I think you’re the best person I’ve ever met. You’re so gorgeous and talented and…” he coughs, his cheeks bright red “sexy. And I don’t know what I did to deserve you walking through that pub door and into my life but I’m right glad that you did. Right glad.”

  Ohmigosh!

  A gasp goes up around the whole room. A few people clap. One person asks whether this is a pub theatre performance that is occurring and how long it's going to go on for.

  I fully expect Meg to shrug Robbie off, pat him on the shoulder, and tell him he's a doll. Robbie, with his normal person job and his sweet chubby face is the very opposite of what Meg has always said she wanted. He’s no rich footballer, or celebrity. So what comes next is a bit of a shock.

  “Oh Robbie. I can’t believe it, but think I'm falling for you.”

  She clasps his hands to her chest. Robbie beams.

  “I can't give you riches and grand houses and clothes,” he says, staring deep into her eyes. “But you don’t need me for any of that anyhow. I can promise that I'll always look after you. And that life with me will always be an adventure.”

  A collective aaaaaah goes up around the room. Me included. This is super sweet.

  “And that's why,” Robbie continues. “I'd like you to come on tour with me.”

  “Tour?” Meg breathes.

  “Yeah. We're so good together. I want us to go on the road. Perform music all over the country. We'll have to sleep in the van and eat Spam straight from the tin.”

  “I don't care,” Meg coos, her eyes sparkling with delight. “I quite like Spam.”

  And with that they embrace and snog noisily. I wipe an unexpected tear from my eye. Well this is a turn up for the books! Meg peels herself off Robbie and gives me a hug.

  “This is awesome,” I say, squeezing her tightly. “Puzzling, but awesome.”

  Meg woops and dances off to the bar.

  “I'll be back in a second,” I call over to her, thinking of Riley and the papers in my room. “There's something I have to do.”

  She waves me off and I think I'm finally about to make it to my room when I'm stopped once again. This time by Riley. He's already holding the stolen papers in his hands.

  CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

  “I was looking for you and I found these, Natalie.”

  He holds up the envelope with the letters, his face stony. “What are they and why on earth do you have them in your room?”

  “I was just about to tell you!” I say at once. “That's exactly what I was just doing, coming to find you!”

  “What are those?” Barney Braithwaite is suddenly there again with his video camera, pointing it at the brown envelope in Riley's hands.

  “Secret documents,” I snap. Why won't he just bugger off? “Please shut off the camera,” I ask him as politely as I can manage.

  He ignores me and presses the zoom in button.

  “Riley,” I say, aware of everyone around me listening intently at what is going to happen next in this ridiculous spectacle. “I found them. I'm sorry I didn't say sooner. I was at Hobbs last -”

  “Hobbs?” Riley says, anger darkening his bright features. “You're part of this, this attempt to take away my pub? I knew I was right to be suspicious of you when you first came here. What an idiot I am.”

  “No,” I plead. “I'm so sorry. I found them in Jasper's room.”

  “Jasper’s room?” Meg's eyes pop out of her head. “What on earth were you doing in Jasper's room?”

  “Do you really need to ask?” Riley spits.

  Oh gosh, he's mad. I'm about to explain myself again, apologise again, when it occurs to me that here Riley is acting like he's the very model of morality and I'm the liar when in fact he's just as bad! I put my hands on my hips and step closer to him.

  “You have no right to talk to me like that,” I say. “Not after the way you’ve treated me.”

  “Excuse me! What are you talking about? I welcomed you into my home. I - we -”

  “You lied to me. You seduced me so that I would stay here and cook for you. For free! So that I would help to save your pub and I would be too lusty for you to say anything about it.”

  Riley goggles.

  “Are you kidding?” He rubs the back of his neck as if he’s in pain. “What went on with us was real. I've always been honest with you, Natalie.”

  “Honey told me. She told me you planned it together. You haven't even split up with her! I saw you together in the kitchen, hugging and smooching. You've not been honest at all, Riley. You lied!”

  “I wasn’t smooching. Jesus. I was hugging Honey because she was upset about our breakup! I swear to you.”

  “Oh.”

  We're both standing there awkward and utterly confused as to what's going on when Honey barges back into the pub. She has snow in her hair, her lipstick is smeared across her face and her eyes are glinting with fury.

  “Riley, she’s lying. I never slept with Jasper.”

  “What are you on about?” Riley opens his arms in a gesture of complete confusion. “What the hell is anyone on about!”

  Honey doesn’t seem to get it.

  “Take me back, Riley. Don’t make me leave. They all make me leave!” she cries, her face red and crazy looking.

  Oh my goodness! She’s acting like this has happened to her before - the whole sleeping around, stirring, making trouble in a small village thing. However much I dislike her, though, she’s really very upset and for a moment I feel bad for her.

  “Honey, are you okay?” I try, because she clearly needs some assistance. “Why don’t we just -” I make to take her by the arm and sit her down but she slaps me away with her tiny hand.

  “Why won’t you just fuck off!” she hisses at me. “You’ve ruined everything.”

  “But I -”

  “I was fine. I had it all and you ruined it. He would have fallen in love with me eventually! Now I’ll have to move again!”

  She breaks down into a heap of noisy sobs.

  Mrs Grimes hurries forward and takes her hand. “Come on, love. Time to get you home.”


  Honey’s sobs quieten down into soft sniffles while Mrs Grimes gently eases her out of the pub. My goodness.

  Riley looks stunned. He blinks and sinks slowly down onto a stool, pulling out the picture of his mother from the brown envelope.

  “They don’t belong to you.” Jasper appears and snatches the papers out of his hands.

  Riley stands up. “They’re about me. About my mother. My father.”

  Jaspers fists are curled, his face red. “You’re not entitled to anything! It’s my money. Don’t think you can go getting your grubby, common hands on it. I’m the one who’s looked after that stupid old man for years on end. It’s my money. I fucking earned it.”

  “I don’t care about the money, you moron.” Riley grabs the papers out of Jaspers hands. “I care about the fact that I have a Dad and no one bothered to fucking tell me.”

  “I promised your mother. I would never tell.” A voice comes from the door of the pub. It's Alfred Hobbs.

  “Alfred?”

  “Alfred Hobbs is here!”

  “Isn't he dead?!”

  “A recluse, Wonky Faced Joe. He's a recluse!”

  “Not anymore. He's here! Alfred is here!”

  Alfred gestures that everyone should calm down. His impressive height, carrying voice and the understanding that he's about to say something really juicy and important means everyone shuts up quite quickly.

  “Leave the lad alone, Jasper. He’s had a shock, can’t you see?” Alfred roars.

  Riley is just stood there. His hands are shaking. His eyes are filled with tears. He keeps looking down at the picture of his mother. He doesn’t look at Alfred.

  “I had to keep my promise, son.” Alfred says, approaching Riley. “I never wanted to. But… now you know…”

  Riley says nothing. He drops the photograph. As it flutters gently onto the floor, he turns on his heel and walks out of the bar.

  “Riley” I call, going after him. But a strong arm grabs hold of me and pulls me back.

  “Natalie! Natalie!”

  I wheel around at the distressed voice calling my name. It's Dionne and she's crying hysterically, a snot bubble forming at her nose.

  “Olly just called. It's Mum. She - she's in the hospital. She's had a heart attack.”

  And everything goes silent in my head. Nothing else matters now.

  CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

  You know how in films when something tragic happens to a character and suddenly everything they hear sounds all muffled and gloopy, like they're underwater? Well, that's not just a made up special effect. That's actually what happens. That's what's happening as Dionne sobs in front of me. Her mouth is moving but I haven’t a clue what she's saying.

  Mum.

  My Mum.

  I get a sharp picture of her, sad, alone, deathly pale on a hospital bed. I snap out of my daze.

  “We need to get out of here,” I mutter. “We need to get to her.”

  “But we can't!” Dionne bawls. “The snow. We're stuck! What if she dies?”

  Meg hurries over when she sees my face.

  “What is it, Natty?”

  “My mum.”

  “What’s happened?”

  “She's had a heart attack. She’s… It's my f... It's my…”

  “Wonky Faced Joe,” she calls over to Wonky Faced Joe immediately. “Is your tractor fixed? We have an emergency. Natalie needs to get to home right now.”

  “No,” he says, looking embarrassed. “It's nearly there. Maybe in another day or two.”

  “What will we doohoohoo?” Dionne croaks.

  “I don’t know.”

  My poor sister. My poor mum.

  And then I remember.

  I march over to where Alfred Hobbs is sat in the corner of the pub, nursing a pint of ale and avoiding eye contact with everyone.

  “I'm sorry to interrupt.” I say, my voice shaking with the tears I'm trying not to let fall, because if I let them fall then they won't stop, I'm sure of it.

  “What is it, dear?” Alfred looks up. His expression is kind.

  “Mr Hobbs, I’m sorry to interrupt you when you so obviously have so much going on at the moment. I know you’re waiting to speak with Riley… but this is urgent.” I swallow hard. “You know that helicopter you've got at home?”

  “The Hobbscopter?”

  “Um. Yeah. The Hobbscopter.”

  “Of course, dear.”

  “I kind of need to borrow it. There's been an emergency in my family and I need to get home right away. But the snow means no one can drive.

  “Oh dear.” Alfred puts his hand on my arm. “My pilot Carlos usually flies the helicopter and he's in Pittenweem for Christmas with his family. As much as I would love to I’m afraid I can’t help.”

  This is not good enough. We need to get back to Manchester. Oh God. This cannot be happening.

  “But can't you fly it?” I try. “You used to be in the RAF, didn't you? You told me so! Please?”

  Alfred looks at a loss. “Dear, I'm far too old to pilot now. At least not on my own. I’d put everyone in grave danger.”

  No!

  “You bloody scaredy cat,” says a gruff voice coming from my left. “The Alfie Hobbs I knew wouldn't let a thing like being an owd git get in the way of helping a lady in need.”

  Uncle Alan is at my side. He eyes up Alfred with trepidation.

  Alfred’s eyes widen. “Alan? Alan Harrington?” His bottom lip trembles slightly.

  “If you're worried about a co-pilot,” Alan goes on. “I've got a few hours spare, like.”

  We both look at Alfred. My heart is about to stop with nerves and hope.

  After what seems like an age, Alfred gives a firm nod of agreement. “Thank you. Thank you so much,” I cry, gesturing to Dionne to get Jean- Paul Gaultier.

  Okay.

  We're going home.

  CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

  I'm in a helicopter. I'm in a helicopter being flown by two old aged pensioners who have not handled even a toy aircraft in at least ten years.

  Our trip up to the helipad at Hobbs Manor was quiet and quick. Alfred and Alan are trying to tone down their excitement at seeing each other and flying a helicopter again out of respect for Dionne, who continues to sob loudly, and me who, to be honest, is still in an utter daze.

  It's weird looking out of the window and seeing the snow-covered hills of Little Trooley become smaller as we get higher and farther away.

  Goodbye, then.

  My legs feel like jelly. I feel sick.

  Heart attack.

  The whirring sound of the helicopter engine should be doing a better job of drowning out the horrible thoughts going through my head.

  It's your fault, Natalie.

  You should never have left. She couldn't be alone.

  You're selfish for leaving. She needed help.

  She's going to die and the last thing you said to her was that she was a bad mother.

  I hold Dionne's hand and squeeze tightly as we soar across the sky. I vaguely hear Alfred organising to land at the helipad at Manchester Royal Infirmary, but mostly I just think about getting to mum in time to tell her I'm sorry.

  We arrive at Manchester Infirmary within the hour. I briefly thank Alfred and Alan before grabbing Dionne's hand and racing down to the accident and emergency ward.

  “Ladies! No dogs in here!” A podgy blonde nurse shouts at us, looking horrified as John-Paul Gaultier jumps up at her knees in the lobby.

  She's right. We can't bring a dog into a hospital. Fuck. We haven't got time to waste finding somewhere safe for him.

  “Here. I'll take him.”

  I spin around.

  It's Olly! He looks tired and handsome in his work suit. I feel a pang of something indiscernible in my chest. Dionne bundles Jean-Paul Gaultier into his arms.

  “Your mum's in cubicle ten,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “She's okay. She said she just wants to see her girls.”

  I give Olly a swift hug
before racing off to cubicle ten.

  I pull open the curtain and enter the makeshift hospital room. Mum is propped up against two crisp white pillows. She's hooked up to all kinds of monitors and machines. Her face is grey and sweaty and her lips are pale pink. But she smiles when she sees us.

  And that's when the tears I've been holding in all day start to fall.

  “I'm fine. I promise,” Mum reassures us as we fuss over her. “It wasn’t a proper heart attack. It was angina pectoris.”

  “What's that?” Dionne says, her voice still shaky.

  “It means that not enough oxygen was getting to my heart. At least they know now. There's medication I can take. I'll be fine. It sounds much scarier than it is.”

  I know exactly what angina is. I watched plenty of Emergency Doctor during my week of hermit-dom in the house. I know that angina can be caused by emotional stress. The kind of emotional stress you get when you, say, argue with your daughter and she's a complete bitch to you.

  I plump up the pillows behind Mum and take hold of her hand.

  Now we've established that no one's death is imminent everything goes quiet. This the first time we've spoke or seen each other since our fight, or since the wedding was called off.

  Dionne, in a surprising show of diplomacy, announces that she's going to go and get us some coffee and give Bull a ring.

  Mum and I are left alone.

  “I'm so sorry,” I say at once. “I didn't mean any of what I said. I've... just been going through a weird time.”

  We both know that I must have meant what I said during our argument because it came out when she asked me a question. Thankfully she doesn't bring that up, just gives me a watery smile.

  “It's all right, love.” She waves her hand dismissively. “You're back home now. Things can go back to normal... did you see Olly?”

  “Yes.”

  “You know he loves you very, very much, Natalie.”

  I sigh. “Yes. I know.”

  “I think he loves you enough to forgive you too.”

  I expect a surge of hope at her words, at the possibility that things CAN go back to normal, that Olly and I can work it out. That everything can be fixed. But it doesn't come.