My pulse rate slows as I feel the welcome embrace of my comfort zone now that we are talking about words. The next author takes position and starts to read. She lasts longer and even garners a few laughs.
‘Not bad. That was funny,’ says Casey and waves to her. She blows him a kiss.
‘She just needs to make the dialogue sound more realistic,’ I say. ‘Of course, there’s no doubt you’ll win.’
‘Don’t jinx it. Look, about the submissions,’ he says but is interrupted as the landlord calls his name. A chink of sunlight breaks through the side window and I put on my sunglasses as Casey begins.
The barman takes a break from pulling pints. A man next to me stops scrunching his crisp packet. Silence falls as Casey begins to read. The prologue is a sensuous scene of two characters dancing. It’s not obvious until the last paragraph that one of them isn’t from this planet and that revelation draws gasps.
A woman whistles and claps just before he finishes, as if she knew the end was imminent. I turn left to look and my mouth goes dry.
Beatrix? And Lenny?
It can’t be.
It is.
My heart pounds.
I’m amazed they’ve spurned the glamorous meet and greet at Alpaca Books. This isn’t happening. He must be carrying on our weekend tradition of Camden lunches. Wearing funky shorts and a stylish halter neck top, she heads over to Casey and kisses him on both cheeks. Perfume wafts across the room and smells like the most expensive thing in the pub.
It chokes me as if it’s poisonous gas. I inhale and exhale, trying to take back control of my emotions as she moves her arm up and down his shoulder and pulls his collar gently. He bends down and whispers something in her ear. Casey’s laugh drifts over to me.
My chair scrapes as I stand up and feel dizzy for a second. I navigate the chairs and head for the door. Just as I pass, Lenny steps backwards and into me.
‘Watch where you’re going,’ he mutters without turning around.
I lower my head and escape into the spring air. Please don’t let him recognise me. I head up the side street and then left towards the station. Footsteps sound behind me. Instinctively I quicken my pace. Lenny must have turned to look. This isn’t part of the plan. I need to look my very best when he sees the new Violet Vaughan – not this half-baked version who, at the moment, hasn’t convinced Casey to give Thoth Publishing a chance. I still have a few weeks left to turn things around. However, fingers curl around my elbow. I try to shake it off but the grip becomes tighter.
‘Vi?’
Casey. Thank God. Oh no. He darts in front of me. I can’t meet his eye.
‘What’s the matter? Why did you leave? Is everything all right?’
‘Yes. Sorry. I should have said goodbye. I just don’t feel well. I didn’t want to cause a fuss.’ I force a smile. ‘Well done on the reading, Casey. You were fantastic. Best of luck with Alien Hearts. I’m sure it’s going to be a smash hit.’
‘Vi, about submissions. Look at me for a minute.’
No. Because that means he’ll be looking at me. I couldn’t bear that – not after he’s been looking at the vision that is Beatrix Bingham.
‘Sorry. I think I’m going to be sick.’ I shake his hand briefly – keep it professional – and then run as best as I can in my heels.
2001
I don’t mind school today because Flint is coming around tonight for Halloween. Mum said we could go trick or treating together. She has to come with us – even Flint’s mum insisted on that – but she’s promised to stay at the end of each house’s drive so that we don’t look like babies. He came to tea at the weekend. Mum made us chicken and vegetables. I prefer fish fingers and chips but Flint said it was really yum. His dad has a vegetable garden and they have chickens, mostly for eggs but sometimes for meat. We talked about what outfits we’d wear.
Flint is going as a skeleton. Mum bought me a glittery witch’s hat and a cape from the supermarket. She’s not sleeping so much now, so it’s more difficult for me and Flint to sneak into Applegrove Wood. We have to go at the weekend. I crawl through the gap in the fence when Mum is watching telly. Her eyes aren’t so red. It’s strange but she somehow seems better since last weekend when she got a phone call saying Uncle Kevin had been found. He was on the second floor of his tower. Masonry (I wonder what that is) had fallen on his head. Mum didn’t tell me, but I heard her repeating what the person on the phone said: that Uncle Kevin must have got to work seconds before the plane hit and not been high up and at his desk. So he started to walk back down the tower again. Being found on the second floor meant that he almost got out.
I cried a lot, in secret, when I heard that. Thinking that he nearly lived makes his death much worse.
But not for Mum. I heard her talking to another friend. Listening in is the only way I find things out these days. Mum said she could cope now that she was no longer in a place called limbo. I don’t know where that is – perhaps it’s near work and she goes there when I’m at school. It can’t be very nice because all these weeks it’s made her so miserable.
‘Let’s go, Violet,’ calls Mum.
I pull open my bedroom drawer and take out a sandwich bag. Inside is Muffet. He’s not the spindly sort of spider but has lovely thick, furry legs. I’m so happy that he is still alive. I took one of Mum’s sewing needles and made holes in the plastic so that he could breathe. I found him down the bottom of the garden last night near the woods. Last weekend Flint and I talked through my plan. I almost chickened out but Flint kept on encouraging me to be brave.
Halloween is the perfect day to do it. Alice is such a scaredy-cat. And it serves her right for not asking me to her party. I’m the only girl in the class who didn’t get an invitation.
‘It’s not personal,’ said Alice, who likes to use grown-up phrases. ‘But you’re such a Shrinking Violet I know you’d rather stay at home. You’d only cry at the biscuits Mum has bought with monsters on the front. And me and everyone else will be doing pretty Halloween make-up. It wouldn’t show behind your big purple glasses.’
As I wave goodbye to Mum, my stomach hurts as if I want to eat. But I had a big breakfast. Mum bought half-moon shaped pastries with chocolate in the middle. She hasn’t done that for a long time. The pain must be because I feel a bit nervous. What if Alice finds out it was me? And I don’t want Muffet hurt. I hope he manages to run away. Flint said Alice deserves it. I know he’s right. She’s been so unkind.
I make sure I am one of the last to go in the classroom. When I get to my peg, Alice and her friends are already sitting on the carpet. I wait until everyone else has hung up their coats and then quickly I pull out the sandwich bag. I tug off my bobble hat and jiggle it over my peg. I turn around to check no one is looking. Everyone is listening to Alice showing off about the games her mum has organised for the party tonight. Apple dunking sounds like fun.
Alice’s peg is at the other end of the wall near the toilets. I put the sandwich bag on the ground and hang up my coat. I head for Alice’s bag. It doesn’t take me long to let Muffet escape. I do her bag up again and go into the toilets where I pretend to wee.
Heart thumping, I return to my peg, stuff the empty sandwich bag in my coat pocket and sit on the carpet. That’s the good thing about having a second name beginning with V. It gives you a bit of extra time when Mrs Warham is calling the register.
After what seems like a whole year, we come back from assembly, fetch our bags and sit at our desks. It’s maths first today. I stare very hard at my notebook, not daring to look up in case I catch Alice’s eye. My hands feel damp. Suddenly a loud scream echoes around the classroom.
Alice stands up quickly and falls back onto the floor. She flashes her knickers. They are red with white spots today. Alice likes to do that if it’s her choice, but not when it’s an accident and everyone giggles.
‘A huge spider! It jumped out of my bag. It ran onto my book,’ she says in between sobs.
‘Calm down, Alice, and si
t back at your desk,’ snaps Mrs Warham.
Alice shakes her head. It matches her whole body.
‘Do as you’re told this instant,’ says Mrs Warham, who checks Alice’s chair. ‘There are no spiders here. You must have imagined it.’
‘There was.’ Tears run down her face.
I’ve never seen Alice cry before. Lots of her so-called friends grin. It’s a relief to see that her face gets blotchy and swollen too. But I can’t help feeling sorry for her. Her tears make me realise that underneath she’s just like me.
At break she is still crying. But then, Muffet was quite big. And especially hairy. As we all hurry into the October sunshine, I go up to Alice and give her a tissue.
She sneers. ‘You think that is going to make me invite you to my party?’
‘No, I—’ I’m stuttering. I only wanted to make her feel better.
Flint is right. There’s no point in feeling sorry for Alice.
‘I’d rather invite that spider,’ she says and seems to feel better when the others laugh at her joke. She stuffs the tissue down the front of my jumper and, holding hands with Georgie, skips away.
But I’m not bothered. Her tears have shown me that Alice isn’t as brave as she likes to think.
Chapter 16
After getting back from Camden, I changed straight into my pyjamas and take refuge under the magnolia and pale lilac duvet despite the afternoon sunlight. Bella is sitting on my bed. My room isn’t as stylish or vibrant as hers, with the overflow of dog-eared books from the lounge stacked on the floor. On the wall is a yellowing framed photo of Mum and Uncle Kevin, taken when they were little. He’s sticking his tongue out. Before these recent weeks, the only visible cosmetics were a powder compact and clear nail varnish – now I’ve converted a small writing desk into a dressing table and it’s laden with colourful eye shadows and lipsticks, plus my new hair dryer and straighteners.
On the inside of my wardrobe door is a new full-length mirror. I came home from work one day to find that Bella had bought and installed it. I’ve never had one before. I was never the kind of person to rate their own appearance out of ten nor to ask their partner if their bum looked big. It didn’t seem relevant. I peek out from under the sheets so that my voice sounds less muffled.
‘I can’t believe I saw Lenny. What if he recognised me?’
‘From what you tell me, there’s no way that happened,’ says Bella and hugs her knees. ‘He and Beatrix won’t be able to believe their eyes at the party.’
‘What must Casey think? I’m such a fool. And I’ve completely failed in persuading him to offer his manuscript to Thoth.’
‘You assume too much. Did he actually say that?’
‘He said he was working on his agent, but that’s no guarantee.’ I pull the duvet up to my chin. ‘My phone keeps bleeping. I know it’s him texting. Casey will want to know that I got home okay.’
Bella gives me a stern look. ‘Then you text him back, bright and breezy. Say you’re feeling better. It must have been something you ate. He’ll understand.’
‘I can’t do that.’
‘Why not?’
‘To start with, it’s a lie – perhaps I should be honest. Tell him about Lenny and Beatrix and that it was just too much seeing them.’
‘Tell him anything but the truth. And play down wanting him to send the manuscript. Make out it’s his loss, not yours.’
I sit up and lean against the velvet headboard, fiddling with my watch. Bella lays her hand on mine and my fingers relax.
‘There’s something I didn’t tell you about when I split up with my ex,’ she says. ‘Oh, I revamped my image and my career and yes, I knocked him back in the pub when he wanted to get back together. But even though I just felt sorry for him, I still hadn’t quite moved on back at my flat. Photos of him were still up. I’d kept all the gifts from him, the jewellery, the perfume and scented candles he knew that I liked. One corner of my bedroom could have been mistaken for a shrine to him. However, if I’d let on in the pub that a small part of me pined… if he’d come back for a coffee or if we’d shagged… I wouldn’t be where I am today building my own life, saving to buy my own house, writing my own story without waiting for a man to fill any potential plot gaps.’ She squeezes my hand. Her slim fingers are remarkably strong. ‘You tell Casey the truth. You admit seeing your ex upset you, then it’s giving the power back to that loser and Beatrix. You don’t need either of them in your life. All you need is your own agenda and self-respect. Get Casey on your side. Acquire his book. Take him to the party. This is all still possible.’
‘You really think so?’
‘We have two weeks. Let’s pull out all the stops and really get you into tip top shape. By the time we’ve finished, Beatrix will look positively B List compared to you. I’ve seen miracles happen at the spa in fourteen days.’
‘Is that what I need? A miracle?’ I manage a smile.
Except that was the great thing about Bella. She didn’t make it sound as if I looked awful right at this moment. Bella didn’t focus on the here and now, she concentrated on the what ifs. She made me feel as if anything was possible and images fill my head of Casey and me having wild, passionate sex. My cheeks feel hot as I ask myself where those thoughts came from. You fancy him, idiot, says a smug voice in my head.
Bella continues to talk and my neck and forehead become less tight. She says the two of us are in this together and that she’ll join me on a three day juicing detox. She’ll give me two facials a week and insists I accompany her every night on her late jog. Plus, she’s discovered some amazing rehydration cream to apply to my arms and legs every day, so that whatever I wear to the party, I’ll look positively dewy – her words. I feel like a Hollywood star in the making as I listen to her grooming plan.
‘First of all, though,’ she says, ‘text Casey. Suggest that you meet tomorrow. Subtly make him realise you’re interested in seeing him and that you really aren’t that bothered about the book. I mean, you like him anyway, right?’
As usual, Bella seems able to read my mind.
‘In fact, let me do it.’
Before I know it, she’s picked up my phone from the bedside table. I try to protest but she scrolls through my contacts, taps in the words and presses send.
‘Come on. Time to get up. Feeling sorry for yourself won’t achieve anything.’
I smart at her words but know that she’s right. Whistling, Bella leaves the room, muttering something about googling new juicing recipes. I pick up my phone and read what she typed.
Hi Casey,
Thanks for your texts. Sorry I haven’t replied sooner. Please accept my apologies for leaving so abruptly. I suddenly felt very ill. How about we meet up tomorrow morning? Hopefully this is just a twenty-four hour bug. The weather is due to be decent. We could catch up in Phoenix Garden. It’s very pretty – and then head to Foyles’ Cafe afterwards. My treat. It’s not too far.
Vi
He doesn’t reply straight away and I do my best not to feel disappointed. Instead I open an unexpected text from Farah. She’s started inviting me out for coffee and cake or dinner more than usual. I swipe it away.
I take a shower and get changed into a pink jogging suit like Bella’s. My stomach rumbles but instead of filling it with food, I fill my mind with images of Beatrix’s jealous face when I walk into the party with Casey on my arm. That feels far more satisfying.
I sit on the sofa and my phone bleeps.
Vi,
I’m so glad you’re feeling better. I felt like Prince Charming abandoned at the ball by Cinderella! Not that I see you as some sort of scullery maid. I’m sure you look just as fantastic after midnight. And you didn’t leave a shoe behind – just your pink sunglasses. I was tempted to keep them for myself but my head’s too big (please, don’t make any observations about that). Sunshine and snacks sound great. How about ten thirty? I think that cafe opens at half past eleven on a Sunday. And we can discuss submitting Alien Hearts to Tho
th.
Casey
Warmth courses through my veins. Bella may be a little overpowering at times, but thanks to her, everything is back on track. I message back my agreement without acknowledging the slightest interest in his manuscript.
Chapter 17
Getting ready to meet Casey takes a considerable while and half an hour alone to decide what to wear. In the past, I’d simply grab a pair of trousers and a top. When we first started dating, Lenny used to say it was a joy to be with someone who spent less time in the bathroom than him. Whereas now, I have hair to style and make-up to apply.
After much inner conflict, I choose shorts, a figure hugging T-shirt and a flowing white crocheted cardigan from a little boutique in Covent Garden. Shorts only formed part of my holiday wardrobe before. For the first time in my life, I shave above the knee and apply moisturiser with just a hint of tan. I could waste hours online studying beauty videos and reading reviews of products that promise to make you a ten out of ten. This is not something I ever thought I would say.
I glance at my watch. Nine o’clock. I’ve been up since seven. That’s another thing that has changed. On a Sunday I’d often lie in, reading a book after cuddling up to Lenny, who’d feel snug and comforting. These days I am up with the birds doing my nails or cleaning the flat. By taking more care of myself, I somehow feel more efficient and time-table every hour.
There’s a knock at the door. It’s Kath. I haven’t seen her much the last few days. Her smile looks a little forced and her movements are slow.
‘Just checking you’re going to book club this afternoon,’ she says. ‘We’re all so keen and want to show you the blog posts we’ve managed to put up.’
‘I’ve been following Vintage Views’ progress online and have read them already. They look great. But of course I am, although is it okay if you get a taxi today? I’m out with a friend and won’t have time to come back here before meeting at the home.’ I hate letting her down by not giving her a lift, as her income is so tight. But increasingly I realise Bella is right and I need to put myself first. In fact, I’d managed to thwart a suggestion that the book club meet again one evening last week. I’ve been feeling shattered after work and it’s always great to hang out with Bella.
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