4. Lara

Chapter 4

Lara

T he day the girls told me Satan was moving out was the day I made the decision I would move to London. More specifically, I’d move in with Harper and Mia—they just didn’t know yet.

I’d always known my father was born in the UK and therefore a citizen, but he moved to Australia as a child. I’d never thought much of it, especially given our rocky relationship, except how cool it must have been.

Not once in my twenty-seven years did I think my dual citizenship would benefit me by allowing me to move there myself.?I’ve loosely planned to live there for nine months, but with no set return date, I’m open to going wherever the wind takes me—who knows what might happen over time. As the girls aptly pointed out previously, I don’t have much keeping me in Australia. I’m ready for a fresh start, and hopefully London will provide that.

As I sit on my bed, waiting for the girls to join our Weekly Debrief call, I go over exactly how I’m going to deliver the news.

Does it matter that I’ve already done this approximately ten times in the hour leading up to this, as well as countless times over the past two months? Absolutely not. Do I continue to agonise over it until the last second, when none of the planned words will come out, and instead, I’ll blurt it out at the first opportunity? Absolutely.

The familiar sound of a FaceTime call rings out through my quiet apartment, and the nerves shoot around my body. With a slightly shaky hand, I answer.

“Lara! Hi!” The girls beam at me through the screen of my phone, and I mirror their smiles.

“Hello, my loves,” I respond, taking them in. They’re both in pyjamas, which is odd. Harper is always dressed by the time our calls happen, normally having been to a pilates or boxing class prior.

“Harps, are you sick? You’re still in pyjamas at seven in the morning.”

The girls’ smiles falter. They exchange a brief look before turning back to me, locking eyes through the screen and the thousands of miles separating us.

My brows furrow. “Is everything okay?”

A weak smile returns to Harper’s face, but it lacks her usual fervent. “We’re okay.”

“Well, we aren’t really okay,” Mia interrupts, “but Harp’s isn’t unwell. We only have a month until Satan leaves, and we have no prospective replacements for her.”

My heart thumps quicker in my chest, but I say nothing.?

“I’ve taken the day off so we can look into other apartments. It’s seeming more and more likely we’ll need to find somewhere else to live without a third person.”

Seeing the sadness in their eyes makes me want to cry for them. The girls love their apartment. I can only imagine the heartache this is causing them. Luckily for them, I can fix this.

“But if you had a third person, you could stay, right ?” I ask hesitantly.

This time it’s Mia who gives me a sad smile. I want to reach through the screen and squeeze her tight. “We could, but Lars, we’ve spent two months searching, and we can’t find anyone.”

“I might know someone.”

“You know other people?” Mia questions. Harper lets out a loud chuckle as I feign hurt.

“Ouch Mia, do you really think I’m that much of a loser?” Laughter ripples through me as I fail to keep a straight face.

“I was asking if you know other people in England , you knob.”

A chorus of laughs rings out through my little apartment, momentarily making me feel less alone.

“No, I do not.”

The girls tilt their heads slightly, the way dogs do when they’re trying to understand what the fuck you’re attempting to convey. As if hearing my thoughts, Harper speaks.

“Lara, what are you trying to say?”

“Well, when I say I may know someone, the someone I’m referring to may or may not be the person you’re talking to right now.” I grin despite the severe anxiety gnawing at my insides as I await their reactions.

I watch their faces intently, witnessing the moment my words sink in. A pause to process. Then, as expected, they both have completely opposite reactions to one another. What surprises me though is they each have the reaction I expected from the other.

Harper, ever the picture of poise, squeals . A full-blown, ear-splitting squeal that’s sure to startle anyone within a 5km radius. Jumping up from her spot on their bay window, she disappears off camera. She hasn’t gone far though, her excited cheers still blasting through my speakers.

Mia, on the other hand, appears to be shocked into silence. A look of pure dumbfoundment covers her facial features as she stares at me.

“Mia, are you still with me?” I ask loudly, fighting to be heard over Harper, who’s reappeared in the frame.

Before Mia can respond, Harper pulls her into the most passionate bear hug ever witnessed. Caught off guard only momentarily, Mia bursts into hysterics, her smile wide.

I have to fight to blink back the tears threatening to surface as I watch the ecstasy on the girls' faces. It cements that I’ve made the right call; I’m moving to London.

Once all composures are regained, Harper and Mia proceed to question me on every major and minor detail of my decision, including my family's reactions to the news.

“So you’ve mentioned your mum and brother were super excited for you, once your mum got past her initial concerns, of course. Have you told your dad?” Harper asks, a small note of hesitation in her voice.?

I smile weakly at the girls before answering. “No, not yet. It’s been a while since we’ve spoken. I’ll tell him when he calls next.” Even as I spoke the words, I didn’t truly believe them.?

The girls return my smile, nodding slowly in understanding. My father and I, while we love each other, have somewhat of a strained relationship. We have since I was old enough to understand the breakdown behind my parents’ divorce. You can’t help but see someone in a different light after learning the way in which they broke your family.?

Sensing the negative turn of energy, Harper chirps up and suggests we book my ticket to London right here on the call. The buzz of excitement we all feel right now is palpable. Fifteen minutes later, the call ends, and I have a one-way ticket to Heathrow.

Three months passed in a whirlwind of chaos. Between Christmas festivities, New Year’s Eve celebrations, farewells, and too many hangovers to count safely, time flew by in a haze.

As March rolled around and my departure date loomed, I began to pack. Thanks to Mia, I had a part-time job lined up for me at a new and used bookstore near my new home. I’ll be starting there a few days after I arrive. I still have no idea what Mia told the owner in order for her to hire me, but when we spoke the other week, she seemed elated to have me.

You’d think it would be difficult to pack up your first apartment, but I didn’t experience that. Mum insisted it was because I still used my bedroom at home as a storage facility, but I prefer to believe I’ve succeeded in living minimally.

Except, of course, when it came to my library. Packing those suckers was an absolute nightmare, and I’m still concerned they won’t all make it to the UK safely. Bubble-wrapped and nestled between every sweater I own, four of the five suitcases accompanying me on my travels are filled with books. It was a challenge, but the smut made it on the plane.

Sitting in the departure lounge of Dubai Airport, I still cannot believe the adventure I’m embarking on—one hell of a whim decision.

The chime over the speakers pulls my wandering mind back to attention.?

“All remaining passengers of Emirates flight EK31 to London Heathrow are invited to board through Gate 52. Thank you.”

Looking down at my boarding pass, I take a deep breath.

This is it.

London, here I come.