by Claire Frost
‘How did you do that, Wolfie?’ she asked with a sigh.
‘Don’t know,’ he mumbled, eyes glued to his sticker book.
‘You’ve got to be more careful, we haven’t got the money to buy you new jumpers every two minutes.’
Wolf continued to stare at his stickers.
‘Wolf, are you listening to me?’ Millie raised her voice and snatched the book away from him. ‘Look at me when I’m talking to you, please. There’ll be no more money for stickers if you keep going on like this, do you hear me?’
‘I did it playing football, I didn’t mean to,’ he said, his eyes filling with tears for the second time that day. ‘You’re always telling me off about money. Daddy never does. Why can’t I live with him?’ And he ran out of the room.
Millie bit back her retort about his daddy never actually giving her the money he was supposed to, which would mean she wouldn’t have to go on about it all the time, and instead stared at the open living-room door. She knew how much Wolf idolised his dad and she would never actually say anything derogatory about Louis to him, however much she was tempted. The very thought of him looking after Wolfie for more than a few days made her want to laugh. Except it wasn’t actually funny.
Wearily, she climbed the stairs to the little boy’s room and found him curled up on his bed. She went over and scooped him into her arms.
‘Oh, Wolfie, I’m sorry for shouting. And I know you didn’t tear your jumper on purpose. Sometimes being a grown-up is hard and sometimes we really have to watch how much money we’re spending on things, but money is never the most important thing in life. The most important thing in my life is you, and it always will be.’
‘I’m sorry for getting angry, Mummy. And I’ll try really hard not to break my school uniform, I promise.’
‘I know you will, darling,’ she replied, kissing the top of his head. ‘Now, let’s get you in the bath, otherwise Bridget will have to wash and dry you and you know how much she likes using talcum powder!’
Wolfie giggled and got undressed, but things were still a little stilted between the two of them. Feeling like the worst parent ever, Millie spent longer than normal making up a story with him and his rubber ducks in the bath and then playing the towel-monster game afterwards. Wolfie had only just pulled his pyjamas on when Bridget arrived, and Millie hadn’t even started to get ready herself.
‘Hi, lovey, I’m not early am I?’ Bridget asked, glancing at Millie as she opened the door. ‘What time are you going out?’
‘No, not at all, I’m just running a bit late. Come in, Bridget. Thanks so much for babysitting tonight, I know Wolfie has been looking forward to seeing you.’ She crossed her fingers behind her back and hoped Wolfie hadn’t heard her fibbing. ‘Wolfie, come and say hello to Bridget,’ she called.
He walked into the living room, clutching his fire engine, and allowed himself to be kissed and fussed over by Bridget with only a small wrinkle of his nose in Millie’s direction.
‘Always happy to help you out, Amanda, you know that, especially when I get to see this little cherub. Now, has he had his hot milk yet?’
‘Erm, Wolfie doesn’t have milk before bed anymore. He’s a big boy now, aren’t you, darling? Anyway, Bridget, I’ve bought some of those lemon biscuits you like, shall I make you a cup of tea before I go?’
‘Ooh that would be nice, lovey, thank you. Then young Wolf here can tell me all about how he’s getting on at school, can’t you, dear?’
By the time Millie had made Bridget her tea and made sure Wolfie was happily chatting away and not stealing all the biscuits, she had precisely ten minutes before she had to leave. It hadn’t been that long ago that she would happily spend the best part of three hours getting ready to go out, with a playlist on in the background, a glass of wine in her hand, and the contents of both her wardrobe and her makeup bag thrown all over the bed. That felt like a lifetime ago now, though, as she hurriedly pulled the straighteners through her hair, applied the thickest layer of foundation she could get away with and dragged on the studded denim skirt and black off-the-shoulder top she’d found at the back of her drawer that morning. The rock-chick look never went out of date, she’d reasoned earlier, but glancing at herself in the mirror Millie realised she looked like she’d raided her 16-year-old self’s wardrobe. She didn’t have time to change, so she stuffed her lipstick and eyeliner into the front pocket of her handbag and ran down the stairs. As she pulled on her black tasselled ankle boots and reached for her trusty but ancient leather jacket, Wolf and Bridget came into the hall.
‘You look nice, Mummy,’ Wolf said, winding his arms round her waist. ‘A bit like a witch, but much prettier. You can borrow my wizard hat if you want?’
‘Yes, you look, erm, lovely, dear,’ Bridget said. ‘Though don’t you think you might be a bit cold in that skirt?’
‘Ah, it will be lovely and warm inside, don’t you worry. Text or call me if you need anything, won’t you? And, Wolfie, I think I’ll be okay without that hat, but thank you for the offer. You be good for Bridget, and I’ll come up and see you when I’m home. Love you, little wolf cub.’
‘Love you more, Mummy.’
Once the train had chugged its way out of the suburbs and eventually reached the bright lights of London, Millie found a bus that would take her into the centre. She sent a text to Bridget reminding her what time she’d be home as well as repeating her plea to text or call her if she needed to. She knew she was lucky to have such a kind neighbour. After her mum’s death when she was nineteen, Millie had learned to only rely on herself. However, she had a real soft spot for Bridget, who clearly enjoyed mothering both Wolf and her whenever she could – in fact, she was one of the few people Millie allowed to call her by her full name of Amanda, as her beloved mum had done – but she still hated having to ask her for favours.
Milie retrieved her eyeliner and lipstick from her bag and proceeded to apply both as the bus drove over what felt like constant speed bumps. She’d barely thought about the evening ahead of her, but now she had less than fifteen minutes before she arrived, she wondered what on earth she was doing. Of course, it had been flattering to be invited to a PR agency’s big party in London, plus it would be the perfect networking opportunity. But the idea of walking into a trendy city-centre venue and rubbing shoulders with the cool crowd made her nervous. She was very definitely out of practice, plus she knew that most people there would be barely out of college, let alone have reached the grand old age of thirty like her.
The bus hit Soho and Millie contemplated staying exactly where she was and letting it take her right back to the train station again. Her phone buzzed with a text. She saw it was from Bridget and her heart leapt.
dont.worry.about.us.the.bairn.is.all.tucked.
up.in.bed.you.have.a.good.night.lovey
Bridget might not have quite mastered the art of punctuation in her texts, but Millie knew that if she came home now the old lady would worry she’d done something wrong and that Millie didn’t trust her. She had no choice. She had to go to the party.
Chapter Five
Millie
Millie gave her name at the door to the two girls importantly holding clipboards as if their 17-year-old lives depended on it, and then she climbed the stairs of the imposing multistoreyed Georgian building until she reached the third floor where she was under instructions to ‘turn left and keep going’. However, the clipboard crew’s orders were obsolete as she could hear the bass of some track she was probably supposed to know but didn’t (apart from the odd tune here and there, Millie had barely heard any new songs in the last five years unless they had the words ‘Peppa Pig’ or ‘superhero’ in them) coming from the end of the corridor, plus the door kept opening to deposit pretty young things on the other side as they headed towards the ‘washrooms’.
Millie took a deep breath and stepped inside. Immediately, she felt the deep bass of the music course through her body and lodge itself in her chest. She was looking around in t
he hope of recognising someone – anyone – in the throng of young bodies before her, when she felt two people appear on either side of her.
‘Millie, so lovely to meet you,’ trilled the girl to her left. ‘I’m Franny, and this is Nats. Welcome to Best Dressed PR’s birthday party! You look amazing. Let’s get you a drink.’
‘So lovely, I mean, cool, to be here,’ Millie shouted above the music as she kissed the air next to first Franny’s and then Nats’s cheeks and was led over to the bar area.
‘So we have a blueberry Moscow non-mule and a mockito made with apple juice, and I can tell you they’re both delicious!’ Nats beamed. Seeing the confused look on Millie’s face, she added quickly, ‘Of course, if you wanted alcohol we have red wine, white wine or beer. Although I think that might be alcohol-free lager, actually.’
‘White wine would be great, thanks,’ Millie said, relief at the impending alcohol relaxing the tension in her face and allowing her to actually smile. ‘Although, better make it a spritzer, thank you,’ she told the waistcoated man behind the bar who was flipping glasses and bottles with an air of superiority. He grunted in a nondescript way, but slammed a wine glass full of liquid down on the bar, and Millie took a grateful slug. Seeing she now had a drink in her hand, Franny and Nats resumed their pincer movement and each took one of her arms and propelled her into the centre of the room,
‘Not sure how many people you know,’ Franny said in her sing-song voice. ‘So we’ll do some introductions. Ooh, look, you’ve probably never met MaryAnna, Frankie and Sonya before, have you? They are just the coolest.’
Before Millie could even open her mouth, she’d been manoeuvred into the middle of a large group of people whose attention was all focused on three women.
‘Guys, say hello to @mi_bestlife, I know she’s been dying to meet you all. Millie, this is @MAFlash, @FrankieG and @SonyaStyle. Enjoy!’ And with that, Franny and Nats melted away into the crowd.
‘Mills, come here, so good to see you, mate, it’s been far too long!’ Sonya’s familiar northern tones cut through the constant beat of the track playing through the speakers above them. ‘I can’t even remember the last time I saw you on the dance floor at one of these things. How the hell are you?’
‘Ah, you know me, Son, never much of a party girl,’ Millie grinned as Sonya enveloped her in a bear hug.
‘Yeah, right, I’ll never forget that night in Birmingham. But what happens in Birmingham, stays in Birmingham, right!’ She laughed, tapping the side of her nose. Despite growing up somewhere in the Shires, after spending a weekend in Leeds with her friend who was studying fashion design at uni Sonya had decided she was going to reinvent herself as a northern fashion blogger with an edge, and since then had adopted as northern an accent as possible. Millie had always been impressed and a little envious of Sonya’s ability to carry it all off – her accent only ever showed signs of strain when she was really drunk, and then her cut-glass poshness pushed its way out. Millie and Sonya had enjoyed some particularly raucous nights out in Birmingham together a fair few years ago, so Millie knew the truth about her private-school education, but she was pretty sure no one else in the room had a clue that Sonya wasn’t quite as gritty as she made out, and there was no way she was going to burst their bubble as Sonya was such good fun. And she just happened to be one of the biggest Insta street style stars in the country.
‘Loving the rock-chick look, Mills,’ Sonya shouted.
‘Not looking too bad yourself. Leopard-print has always been so you.’
‘Lucky it’s gonna be big next season, ain’t it,’ her friend grinned as she readjusted her sunglasses on top of her afro and tugged down her gold leopard-print midi dress. ‘Hey, MaryAnna, Frankie – Millie and me go way back, she’s a good’un.’
‘Super to meet you, darling,’ drawled MaryAnna, air-kissing her, then immediately turning back to the group of eager girls around her to continue telling what looked to be a fascinating story judging by the expressions on their faces.
‘Millie, I think we’ve met before, no?’ Frankie smiled. ‘At some launch or fashion party a while back I seem to remember. Although one gets invited to so many of these evenings, doesn’t one?’
‘Yes, I think you’re right, brilliant to see you again.’ Millie returned her smiles and kisses, although she couldn’t recall ever seeing Frankie before in her life. Still, she seemed pleasant enough, if one of the plummiest-sounding people she’d ever met. ‘How are things going with you?’
‘Well, just fabulously actually. Obviously this is top secret, but I’ve just signed a contract to join the cast of Made In Chelsea. I’ve known half the cast since we were tiny, but it’s never felt like the right time. But now with my fashion line in the works . . . oops, that’s another thing that’s top secret, obvs! Anyway, what are you up to, Millie?’
‘Well, I won’t be joining the cast of a reality show any time soon,’ Millie smiled. Sonya honked with laughter beside her.
‘I can’t think of anyone less likely to appear on MIC, TOWIE or, god forgive us, Geordie Shore than you, Millie. Your private life is far too private for the likes of them. Me on the other hand . . .’
‘Oh my god, Son, you’d be amazing on something like that. What about Love Island? Or are you loved up with that YouTuber now?’
Sadly, Millie didn’t get to find out how Sonya’s love life was faring as at that moment Franny and Nats reappeared towing along yet more people to add to their group.
‘Everyone, this is Joe and Ciara from Styleitout.co.uk and Cesca and Carly from Styleitlikebeckham.com. I’ll leave you to introduce yourselves. Does anyone want another drink? Millie, you were on the alcohol, weren’t you, and more mockitos for everyone else, yes?’
‘I’ll have whatever Millie’s having,’ Sonya shouted over in reply, nudging Millie as she spoke. ‘She knows how to party after all! Ciara and Joe, wasn’t it?’ she asked, sticking out her hand to the newcomers. ‘Great to meet you.’
‘It’s so amazing to meet you, Sonya, I’ve loved your Insta feed for, like, years,’ gushed Ciara, an excitable-looking twenty-something sporting ombre hair and three-quarter-length trousers.
‘And I’ve loved yours, Millie,’ Joe nodded seriously, his carefully constructed quiff not moving an inch. ‘It’s so cool to see someone showing mums that they can be stylish, too.’
‘I’m surprised Millie’s feed is so up your street, Joe,’ Sonya laughed.
‘Well, of course, I’m not a mum myself . . .’ Joe paused and Millie caught Sonya’s eye and smothered a giggle. ‘But you have such a loyal following and are leading the way when it comes to young mothers. And they’re exactly our core customers,’ he finished, fixing his intense gaze on Millie.
‘Sorry, where did Franny, or was it Nats, say you worked?’ Millie asked, feeling she should take pity on poor earnest Joe.
‘Style It Out,’ Ciara supplied quickly. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve heard of it . . .’
‘Of course we have,’ said Sonya robustly. ‘I think it’s a great little site, actually. Anyway, let me introduce you to MaryAnna as I’m sure she’d love to meet you.’
Sonya glanced over her shoulder and muttered to Millie to stay where she was as she’d be back soon; however Franny/Nats (they seemed interchangeable to Millie) glided over with another glass of wine and a steering arm towards more people for Millie to meet. While she was well aware that chatting to everyone she could was the right thing to do, as you never knew when you might need that obscure contact you’d made at a party, Millie was annoyed she wasn’t able to catch up properly with Sonya. And then before she knew it, it was almost 10pm and time for her to get to the train station as fast as she could so she didn’t miss her last train home. Bridget might be a dear, but she wouldn’t take kindly to being left with Wolfie overnight.
Millie did a quick sweep of the room to locate her friend and saw she was ensconced in the corner with Frankie G, MaryAnna and co., and while Millie wanted to say goodbye to her, she had
absolutely no wish to engage in another round of air kisses with a bunch of people she barely knew, so she decided to sneak away without anyone noticing. She turned round to place her empty glass on the bar and came face to face with Franny/Nats.
‘Oh, you’re not off already, are you, Millie?’ she pouted.
‘I’m afraid so. I’ve left my son with the babysitter and woe betide if I’m late getting home. But thank you er, Franny and Nats, of course, for an amazing evening, it’s been great fun.’ The PR gave no indication whether she was indeed Franny or if Millie had picked the wrong name, merely making a cooing sound as she put her head on one side and pulled a sympathetic face.
‘Oh, yes, it must be really hard being a working mum, I can’t imagine how you do it, Millie. Now, don’t leave without picking up one of our goody bags, will you?’
There was no way Millie was going to leave without a goody bag, having already spied them by the door earlier.
‘Oh, that’s so kind, thank you,’ she beamed. ‘Thanks again and see you soon.’ She gave Franny/Nats the obligatory air kisses and headed for the loo on her way out. Not only did she need to go before her long journey home – those glasses of wine were making themselves known – but she had been to enough fashion parties to know that it was prudent to sort through the goody bag and dump the crap stuff as soon as possible rather than lug the whole thing home. Generally, the heavier the item the less appealing it was, unless it was a bottle of alcohol – which seemed unlikely in this case given the lack of adult drinks on offer during the evening. Sure enough, she found a heavy brochure for a cruise company that she immediately put in the bathroom bin. Despite claims that cruises were the new holiday of choice for millennials, she couldn’t see her and Wolfie setting sail any time soon. A musty-smelling air spray also found its way into the rubbish, as did a DIY mocktail kit. But a quick rummage confirmed a bar of chocolate, a hand cream, a moisturiser and some vouchers, plus even a scarily neon slogan T-shirt that looked like it just about might fit her – and there was no denying that #livingmybestlife splashed across a top was on brand when it came to her Insta feed.