Authors: Faith Bleasdale
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Romantic Comedy, #Contemporary Fiction
As soon as I got up I logged onto the laptop. I was eager to do some work, and needed something to focus on something other than the mess that was my life. I didn’t have any e-mails to check, which upset me, so I fired loads off to Freddie, Francesca and Dixie. That way I knew that they would reply to me and my inbox wouldn’t feel quite so lonely. Neither would I.
Then I went to buy all the newspapers, ignoring Max’s offer to go. He had to get ready for a lunchtime flight to Scotland, and I wanted the fresh air. I walked to the local newsagent, bought all the tabloids, and carted them home.
I had learned early in my job to read newspapers quickly, looking for specific references, which is what I did, whilst sipping another cup of hateful herbal tea. Lisa and Max offered to help, but I waved them away and they could see I was on a bit of a mission, so they left me alone. I was pretty sure they were talking about me, but I didn’t mind. This roster that my mother had arranged for me was probably organised on the basis that it wasn’t safe to leave me on my own. When I thought about the next person on her roster, I was sure it was either her and Dad, or Imogen. They were the only people who didn’t have full-time jobs to go to, my parents being retired and Imogen being the wife of a rich man. I didn’t have the energy to tell my mother that I would be all right on my own, but also I wasn’t sure that I would be. At times I felt I was slipping into the realm of madness and I didn’t want to be alone for that reason.
I read until I had covered each paper. There were no mentions, not one.
‘It’s clear,’ I shouted, giving Lisa and Max the opportunity to join me. I wasn’t sure who was more relieved, them or me.
That afternoon I was diverted from my problems, when Lisa took me to a London hotel spa. It was a lovely surprise and I filled up when she told me. I was taking the afternoon off work, but actually I hadn’t got any to do. Freddie and Francesca were definitely covering for me, which annoyed me a bit because I wasn’t totally incapable, but I have to admit the idea of a relaxing afternoon being pampered was more fun than work.
‘I can’t believe how much you’ve done for me.’
‘Oh don’t be silly. You’re stressed and stress isn’t good for the baby. But a massage, a manicure, a pedicure and waxing. Do you want anything waxed?’
‘No need.’ After all, waxing was something I did religiously for Joe. Now I could become really hairy and no one would notice.
‘OK, then manicure and pedicure. No need to let yourself go.’
‘I wasn’t going to,’ I lied.
We arrived at the spa which looked incredibly expensive.
‘I can’t let you pay for this,’ I said, knowing she had already booked two passes.
‘You don’t have a choice. Birthday present.’
‘My birthday has gone.’
‘Christmas then.’ I gave her a look but didn’t pursue the argument. I knew I would have to find a way of paying everyone back but had a feeling that if their support were translated into money, I’d need to win the lottery to do so.
We parted ways once we’d changed into our fluffy white robes. I was having a massage, and I think Lisa was going for colonic irrigation, although she didn’t tell me that. I actually didn’t want to think about it, so as I lay on my treatment table and felt warm hands unknotting me, I really did relax.
It started slowly, as at first I could almost feel my tension. I was rigid. A couple of comments from the masseuse confirmed this. But after a while I felt the knots dissolving and fell asleep.
Still drowsy from my massage I offered my hands to the manicurist and then my feet. I couldn’t decide what colour I wanted them painted because I was too relaxed, so she went for a neutral colour. When she finished I put on my swimming costume and went to the spa where I got into the warm, bubbly water, wishing every day to be like this. There were no worries in the spa, no concerns, because it was a haven, a protective haven where nothing and no one could get me. As I felt the bubbles working magically up and down my body, and my mind more settled than it had done in ages, I realised that if I really could keep stress to the minimum I would be all right. But then I knew that as soon as I stepped out and I left the spa and went home all my problems would be there still. I couldn’t drown them in the jacuzzi even if I wanted to.
Lisa looked relaxed as she came to join me.
‘This place is amazing,’ I said, giving her a kiss on the cheek.
‘I know, it makes you feel as if you’re in heaven or something, and there’s no outside world.’
‘That’s exactly what I was thinking.’
‘Which is why I thought it would be so good for you.’
‘Lisa, you’re a wise woman.’
‘No one’s ever called me wise before. Holly, you have to promise me something.’ I nodded. The way I was feeling I’d promise anything. ‘If you ever get into a proper state and you’re really stressed, and you can’t afford to come here, then come and talk to me. We’ll do something to get rid of it, but you were ready to explode and that’s not good for anyone.’
Lisa was getting wiser by the second.
We still hadn’t heard any more from the newspapers, no news was still good news. Francesca gave me some proposals to write, to keep me from driving myself mad, and Lisa went shopping for groceries. There was an element of calm in my flat, but that scared me because everyone knew what calm came before, didn’t they?
Chapter Twenty-three
The ripple in the calm came at the end of the week. One particular columnist on the second biggest tabloid had picked up on the George story, highlighted it and said that it was difficult to enforce a broken promise in this day and age, as if that was a bad thing. There wasn’t much, but it was implying sympathy for George. That wasn’t a disaster in itself, but it was inasmuch as columnist Lindsay Black was one of the most popular and widely read. Freddie told me, reluctantly, that the story would probably now be pursued by that paper, he then sent our press release to each paper and the said columnist.
Days were merging into each other. I was constantly on the lookout for press coverage, I was trying to keep it together, but not succeeding very well. As Lisa and Max packed up to leave my flat and resume their lives, I changed the sheets in the spare room, in preparation for my parents’ arrival. My second set of babysitters were due the same day Lisa and Max left.
I was managing to keep on top of things. I wanted to kill Lindsay Black, whom I had always found intelligent reading until now, I still wanted to kill George and I still hadn’t heard from Joe.
My parents arrived with enough food to keep me going for the whole remainder of my pregnancy. I was approaching my fourth month, and I was steadily (daily) gaining weight. I thought that it would only be a matter of weeks before I would show. I had a couple of weeks for all the media interest to die down, but as it hadn’t really started, I didn’t know when this would happen.
I settled my parents into their room, then we had dinner, cooked by my mother. They tried to reassure me the way parents do, but I was too preoccupied. For a moment, I blanked out everything but the fact that I could do something about the mess; I could make everything all right. I was going to be a mother, it was my duty to behave like my mother, a woman who always made everything all right. When you’re fighting for someone, other than yourself, someone you love very much you fight that much harder. I imagined all those terrified soldiers going to war, fighting for the safety of their loved ones, and although I wasn’t in any way comparing myself to them, I needed some of their courage.
That was exactly what I was going to do. I was going to be brave; take control, I’d put an end to the nonsense of the press threat by facing the enemy and I would also tell my loved ones how I felt. I was sure that this was the best course of action, I knew I was doing the right thing.
My first brave act was to write a letter to Joe. I begged an early night, and tucked up in bed with my hot water bottle (my mum), I took out a pen and pad and began composing.
Dear
Joe
I
agonised
over
writing
to
you
,
not
only
because
I
didn’t
know
if
I
could
find
the
right
words
,
but
also
because
I
didn’t
know
if
you
would
want
to
read
them
.
My
intention
is
not
to
cause
you
any
more
pain
,
if
you
feel
a
fraction
of
what
I
feel
then
I
have
caused
you
far
too
much
already
.
I
still
have
no
answers
for
you
as
to
why
I
slept
with
George
,
but
all
I
can
tell
you
was
that
I
was
reeling
from
the
shock
of
finding
that
I
was
in
love
with
you
,
and
fighting
with
you
at
the
same
time
.
That
is
no
excuse
but
fear
can
make
people
act
irrationally
;
turn
for
comfort
in
any
way
they
can
.
Falling
in
love
with
you
was
the
most
wonderful
thing
I
did
,
but
also
the
scariest
.
I
was
terrified
,
especially
as
I
hadn’t
heard
from
you
and
I
didn’t
know
how
you
felt
.
George
is
familiar
.
That
sounds
awful
but
he
is
.
Or
was
.
When
I
saw
him
again
I
remembered
how
secure
my
childhood
was
,
which
had
a
lot
to
do
with
him
.
He
was
my
security
blanket
as
I
grew
up
.
There
are
no
details
to
give
you
,
because
that
I
know
is
too
painful
,
but
what
I
want
to
say
to
you
is
simple
.
I
love
you
with
all
my
heart
.
I
miss
you
in
a
way
I
have
never
missed
anyone
.
I
go
to
bed
each
night
and
pray
that
the
baby
is
yours
,
that
is
all
I
want
because
then
maybe
you’ll
feel
able
to
be
a
part
of
my
life
again
.
That
is
all
I
hope
.
Joe
,
I
love
you
.
Ignore
this
letter
if
you
want
to
,
but
please
don’t
ignore
that
I
really
do
love
you
.