I pace up and down before the black fire surround. I really cannot describe how mad I am.
Geoff descends the open staircase, half-asleep. “How are we all feeling this morning?”
I was rather delicate when I woke up, but now I’m steaming with this blind fury. I’m extremely pissed-off, and god help anyone who tries to tell me to accept it.
“Lizzy’s fella...”
Mum has that very wrong. “He is not!”
“Well, he left a gift out on the drive for her.” She points outside. “And she’s not best pleased with it.”
Geoff looks through the front door. “Well that’s the biggest sweetener I’ve ever seen.”
“I think it’s generous,” Mum adds. “Why don’t you have a nice hot coffee, and have a think about it?”
I stomp toward the stairs. “There’s nothing to think about because I’m taking it back.”
I’m washed and dressed in record time to say I’m hung-over. I zip up my overnight bag and bounce down the stairs with it.
Mum is sitting on the sofa quietly, still in her huge coat. I know what’s coming. She might be the kind of person to forgive and forget after receiving some flashy gift, but I’m not.
“Mum, where are the keys?” I wave my fingers.
She pulls them out of her pocket and holds them up. I snatch them from her and walk to the front door with tunnel vision.
“Hold on,” she yells, jumping up to hustle around the back of the sofa. “Please calm down. You go out there driving like a woman possessed, you’ll get pulled over.” She hugs me tightly.
“Mum, I’ll be fine.”
“You don’t look it,” she worries. “I don’t want a phone call telling me my daughter has wrapped her car around a tree.”
She’s right, and is only concerned. But I can’t sit here with that monstrosity of a gift anywhere near me. It has to go back.
“Sorry Mum,” I say calmly. “I promise you, I’ll be fine. But that car is going back. I have got some pride left you know.”
“I know sweetheart. But you call me, and let me know you’re safe.” She pecks my cheek and rubs my arm.
I nod in agreement. I will try to take her advice on board. I’m just going to drive the car back to the city and hand it over.
I get in to the car and immediately it brings back memories of Scotland. Even the smell of it is stirring my emotions.
THE STREETS ARE BUSY. The Boxing Day sales have brought all those who were well behaved yesterday, out of the woodwork for a bargain.
Due to me not having residential access, I’ve had to park the car at Guy’s Hospital, which is a three minute walk away from The Shard. A walk that seems to be taking me a lifetime. I’m cold, stressed, and have absolutely no idea how I’ll react when I see him. The good part of my conscience is telling me to be civil, but the ruthless, tells me to hit him hard in the face.
I dash up the stairs and through the giant glass doors. There’s no other way. I have to go through the reception. The secure elevator below the building takes residents straight to their apartment, and I don’t have that option right now.
I move across the glossy floor, bumping into tourists as I try to figure out where I’m supposed to go. I’ve never been in this part of the building and feel lost. Finally I spot it, the long grey reception desk.
I’m clammy and this hangover is beginning to take its toll. As the pretty receptionist smiles politely, showing her bleached teeth, I become overly aware I’m not looking my best today.
“Welcome to The Shard,” she says. “Will you be dining in one of our restaurants, or taking in the view from one of our balconies.” She grins, revealing more twinkling teeth.
Do I look like I want to eat in a five star restaurant, alone, hung-over, furious, and heartbroken. No lady! You push your little buttons for me, and do your frigging job.
I curve my lips into a fabricated smile. “Please could you buzz apartment sixty-three, and tell Mr Knight that Miss Lovell is here to see him.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” She shakes her head. “But Mr Knight dined with a colleague and left a few hours ago.”
I growl out aloud and she can see I’m in no mood for this. I squeeze the edge of the desk then push myself back.
“When will he be back; do you know?”
“No Miss.” She angles her chest back. “I can take a message if you like,” she says, vigilantly.
“No,” I snap. “Thanks anyway. Oh, do you know by any chance who he was with?”
“He was with his PA.”
Slutty Sara. He’s been eating out alone with her, when he wouldn’t even eat with me in his apartment. Come to think of it, he never ate a thing in Killiecrankie. It was like he was hiding who he really was, and testing the waters with me.
“Oh, well that’s just fantastic,” I utter, turning sharply.
I’M BACK AT THE CAR before I know it. I think I actually jogged here. Maybe I should have handed the keys over to the receptionist at The Shard, and left his car here in the hospital car park. Why should I care if he gets a ticket, or the car gets clamped? But it’s too late now. I’m not going back into that building.
There’s only one person who can help me out; who has the information I need, Nathan. I know he’s been to Sara’s place on the promise of getting into her pants. I slam the door, take out my phone, and scroll down to his name.
“Hey,” Nathan grunts through the receiver. “What’s up?” Crap, I’ve woken him up. “Good night last night. Can you remember, Liz?” I know he wants to tell me all about my drunken antics, but it’s not going to happen.
“Nathan, where does Sara live?” I ask quickly.
I hear him shuffle and yawn. “Liz, why the hell do you want to know that?”
I can’t tell him I’m driving this brand new car back to Adrien. It’s a gift and I don’t want it. I can’t bring his name up. He’ll question and go on and on. Especially after I probably called Adrien all the names under the sun last night. He’ll be here within minutes if he finds out what’s happened. He’s been looking for an excuse to go all fisticuffs with Adrien, and this will provide him with one. I have to come up with an excuse. He still thinks I’m at my mums. Think Liz, think.
“Hmm, I have some correspondence I need to post to her.” My body scrunches right back into the seat. I’m such an awful liar.
He pauses. He’s thinking, and he’s dangerous when he’s doing that.
“What sort of correspondence?” Oh shitty, shit. “Are you working for Mr Prick or something Liz? Thought you hated him now.”
I wrinkle my eyes shut. “Some car rental information, from when I went to Scotland. It was in my handbag and I thought I’d send it back.” I anxiously zip my mouth shut before anything else suspicious emerges.
“Oh.” He yawns again. “It was a while ago. Let me think.”
Why do you need to think Nathan; because you’ve bedded ten different women since then? My parking ticket runs out in a minute, so hurry the hell up.
“It was Thomas Street,” he says. “That’s it. Nice place she has. I think it’s number five.”
“Thanks Nathan.” I go to hang-up.
“Hold on,” he wails down the receiver.
“What is it Nathan?” I grumble, bringing the phone back to my ear.
“It’s Boxing Day. Do you fancy going out, placing a few quid on the gee-gees?”
“I’ll call you back.” I cut him off fast. “Okay, Thomas Street.” I start up the engine.
I INDICATE AND TURN left onto Thomas Street. It’s a long road with old mills, shops, and houses to each side of me. I drive slowly, my eyes scouring the buildings for numbers. I see a hair salon with the number 67 on the door. So I guess I’m on the right side.
I continue on and countdown. I reach number thirteen and have been stuck behind this stupid red bus for the past five minutes. It’s been pulling in and out using no indication at all, and is taking up the entire road.
The bus pulls up to the curb so I boldly pu
t my foot down to overtake it. I manage to squeeze through a gap that’s big enough for one car only. As soon as I pull out in front I see it, Adrien’s Land Rover, parked up outside number five.
Don’t put two and two together Liz. It’s a hazardous combination.
He wouldn’t would he? Give me this car and fuck Sara on the same day. We aren’t an item, so I guess he’s free to do as he pleases. I shouldn’t give a shit, but I do. I’m beyond irrational right now.
I stop behind his car and shutdown the engine. My speeding heart rate is taking my breath away. I look up at the red and white brick three story townhouse, and draw in a huge breath. All I’m going to do, is hand over the keys and flag down a cab to take me home.
My legs tremor as I pull out the brass knocker and bang it three times. I peer down at the pavement, fidgeting. The door flies open and I come face to face with Adrien’s servant, Sara. She looks at me in astonishment, dressed in just a t-shirt. She has no make-up on her face and her hair is well, what can I say, sex hair. I hear laughing and joking coming from the emerald green stairwell right behind her, and I have the sudden urge to thump her in the face. I screw my fists up into a tight ball, and have to hold my arms against my thighs firmly to stop myself.
“Elizabeth,” she squeals with big eyes. “What are you doing here?”
Right Liz, just give the keys to her and walk away from this mess.
“Please can you give these to Mr Knight?” I slam the keys into her hand. “Tell him I have a car, and don’t need his big fancy gifts.” I turn away, wanting to burst in anger.
“Wait Elizabeth,” she yells.
I flick my head around to face her, holding a breath while gritting my teeth. I wait as she pulls her door shut, so no one inside can hear. She takes a step to me, then another. If she comes any closer, I will not be responsible for my actions.
“Mr Knight hasn’t been in touch because he’s been having a few problems at work,” she rushes her words. “He would really like you to keep the car.” She holds out the keys.
“Problems at work! Problems that you two have been thrashing around in there to figure out!” I bark. “I really don’t care if you two are, as Adrien would say, fuck-buddies.” I’m totally lying. “You can have him. He’s an asshole!”
“Elizabeth,” she appeals.
“Piss-off Sara!”
I walk fast, shoving away anyone in my path. I stride by the people queuing at the bus stop, when I’m suddenly swung around by my bicep. It’s Adrien, witnessing his destruction. He’s gasping for a breath with tapered eyes. I want to scream and hit him, but I don’t. I just keep my head down. His shirt is open and he has nothing on his feet. It’s confirmed; he’s a scumbag. He was simply using me, and is now sleeping with his PA.
He wheezes over me as I close my eyes. So what if we weren’t serious, the thought of another touching his skin has created a demon inside me.
“Elizabeth.” He has one of his headaches. His body is all tense and he’s wincing. Good. “Please listen.” He rubs his eyes with his thumb and finger.
I swiftly look to the road and hail down a cab, but it’s in use. He squeezes my arm, refusing to let me go.
“This is not what you think,” he says. “Please look at me,” he asks, desperately.
I choke on my tears and peer up at him. He has glassy pupils and looks very ill. I cannot let myself feel anything other than revulsion. I will not feel sorry for him. But it’s so hard. I’m in love with him. That is now crystal-clear to me.
“You cannot buy me, use me, and toss me aside when you’re done,” I say faintly.
“Shit. I never did any of those things to you,” his voice splinters. “Well, kind of. But Elizabeth, it wasn’t done on purpose.”
“Yes it was!”
How can he say that? It’s exactly what he’s done. He’s the fuck them and chuck them type, and I failed to see it. Now I’m standing in the street, crying like a fool over him.
“Elizabeth, I need to talk with you,” he appeals. “And I can’t do that out here. Come inside,” he asks in a needy way.
“No,” I snap. “I don’t want the car. And I want to forget I ever met you!” I pause, watching his body shrink, and have to look away before he weakens me.
I hold my arm out in the icy air, and as if it can read my needs, a black cab pulls right up beside my boots. I jump inside and slam the door, refusing to look at him.
Chapter 22
Elizabeth
It’s New Year’s Eve and I’ve been sat for the majority of the day in my heated rollers, green hoodie, and leggings. I’ve completed my dissertation, which I have to admit I’m really happy with, and my work placement applications have been filled in, and are ready to be posted. And now, Cate is making me dizzy, whizzing in and out of her room, getting ready for the big bash at Nathan’s.
There was no point in saying no to the invite. It wasn’t even open for discussion. Nathan throws a party at this time every year, and every year we go. Besides, I need to get out of this flat before I start drowning in a depressive state again.
In the last seven days, I spent three days sick in bed. I didn’t eat or venture out for anything other than fluids. It took just ten minutes of Cate’s time to convince me that I have to at least try to get on with my life. She charged into my room like a woman obsessed and dragged me from my bed. She shoved me in front of my full-length mirror, and held my shoulders so I couldn’t escape. And I agreed with her. I looked awful. She slammed my work placement applications on my dressing table, and told me I was throwing my life away over some asshole who doesn’t deserve the effort. ‘Toughen the fuck up,’ she yelled at me.
So I took her advice, and this is where I’m at right now. I haven’t shed a single tear, and I’ve kind of enjoyed keeping my mind busy. I even have a new little black dress for tonight. I’m moving on, and hopefully upward.
“Chop-chop.” Cate claps her hands, dashing back in her room with a mint facemask caked all over her face.
After removing the big barrel rollers, I apply a little lip-gloss and eyeliner. I pull the little black dress over my shoulders and wiggle. It’s sleeveless with a high lace neck and back, coming in at the waist to flare out at knee-length.
I slip on and zip up my ankle boots, grab my tiny shoulder bag, and exit before Cate has a hernia because our taxi is waiting outside.
“Yay, there she is.” Cate smiles by the door.
Cate has been preparing for tonight since first light. She’s had her fingernails French polished, her eyebrows waxed, and hair coloured and cut. She’s wearing a new tasteful red dress, and she’s carrying her brand new Michael Kors handbag, which Pete gave her for Christmas. He has now gone from a zero to hero over the holidays. It pains me to say, but I think she’s warming to him in the way she said she never would.
WE ARRIVE OUTSIDE THE substantial building. It’s an old Victorian factory which has been converted into magnificent apartments. I remember viewing it with Nathan. He was like a kid in a sweet shop. The place is huge with the original red brick and sandstone exposed. It’s spacious and open-plan with warm solid wood floors throughout, and ceiling beams on show. The windows are authentic with black framed glass panels set into each archway. And the open kitchen is unique, made from rustic wood with a splash of high-tech here and there.
We stand in the open steel elevator, which is ascending slowly up to apartment four. I can hear the DJ on the mic and the melodic dubstep beat. Our journey ends with the dull squeal of metal rubbing metal, and a guy dressed in a navy suit slides the heavy door open for us. He winks after receiving a sultry smile from Cate, and walks through the crowd.
We make our way down the corridor where partygoers come and go from Nathan’s pad. The music is loud deep-toned trance. It’s good, and makes me move a little to the beat. Cate links up to my arm with a gasp of excitement, like this is her first night out in months.
“Look at all these hotties,” she squeaks.
“What happen
ed to Pete?”
“Well, do you see a ring?” She giggles.
We go through the open grey door. There has to be at least one hundred people here already, and it’s only early.
I look to the ten foot bar Nathan had fitted last year. It’s his pride and joy. A statement. He thrives off it, being host and party animal rolled into one. Entertaining people truly is his forte.
“Oh my god it’s Tara,” Cate screeches, waving madly across the room. “Go get me a cocktail Liz. Hmm, a Manhattan. I’ll be back in two.” She canters across to her hairdressing friends.
Great, that’s me stuck on my own all night.
I order Cate’s drink and my own, an Apple Mojito. I tried one once when Cate went through her cocktail making phase. As soon as there’s a professional bartender behind the bar shaking his stuff, I may as well try something more exotic than wine.
“Hi.” A guy nudges me, suggestively eyeing me up and down.
I have no clue who this guy is. He looks a bit too confident for my liking, casting his torso over the wooden surface with assured blue eyes. He actually thinks he’s got a chance with me.
“Oh, the quiet type,” he smarmily says.
“Fraid so.” I scowl and take a side step away from him.
“Well, you know what they say about the quiet ones.”
“What’s that then?” I’m going to kick him in the balls if he so much as touches me.
“You know.” He seems surprised I’m not interested. “Saving your voice for the bedroom and all that.”
“Really, you should go and find some other poor girl to try it on with. I’m not looking for a date tonight,” I reply sarcastically.
“Well, if you change your mind.” He smiles while drinking his beer.
“Not going to happen.” I roll my eyes at the sleazebag, then take mine and Cate’s drinks to the tall central beam.
I sip my drink, moving aside the apple peel. It’s so nice. Cold and crisp. Refreshing. Then I see the same guy who tried it on at the bar, still standing there with that, you know you want me, look. I huff and turn away, searching for Cate. She’s still wittering on to her friends. I would go over, but I have nothing in common when it comes to talking hair, or men.
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