Chapter 40

I'm up at six-thirty,leaving Josh asleep in bed, and I stare out of the window all over again at Madon House, wondering if Mum and Dad have managed to get some sleep. I hope so. They must be jetlagged and stressed to hell.

Josh wakes up just before eight and comes charging out of the bedroom as though it's an emergency.

"You ok? I didn't feel you move."

I nod, smiling at my saviour from across the room.

"Yeah, I'm ok, and I'm glad you didn't feel me move. You were sparked right out."

He rubs his eyes. "I'd better get the coffee going."

I walk over and give him a kiss. "Let me do it, Superman. Chill in the bathroom and take a poop in peace. I got this."

He laughs, brushing my hair behind my ear. "Ok, you can be coffee Superwoman. I'll get the toast on, though. Just give me five."

I watch him leave for the bathroom. The term Superman is warranted. A cape would suit him.

I've got our coffees made when he reappears, and I smirk as I present his toast.

"It's more burnt than yours would be. Apologies. I'm not Superchef, but I slathered enough butter on to make up for it."

"It's delicious," he says as he takes a bite, and I join him at the breakfast bar to eat mine. He puts his hand on my back. "Seriously, Ells. How are you feeling?"

"Numb but hopeful. Could be a whole lot worse."

"Yes, it could. Hopefully it will be a whole lot better by the end of the day."

I dare to imagine my ideal outcome. Courage of my convictions. In the perfect version of the universe, I'll be making burnt slathered toast for my parents here tomorrow morning. I'd love to see them at the breakfast bar. Small steps though, right? Them not being on a plane will be enough. Christ, them even speaking to me will be enough.

It's gone eleven when Mum messages with a ready when you are, sweetheart. x

"Shall I come?" Josh asks, but I shake my head.

"It's an easy walk. Chill and eat the rest of the jam tarts. You're only a ten-minute walk away if I need you."

"Or a five-minute run." He hugs me before I go. "You've got this, baby. Believe in yourself."

I get to churn through another six million scenarios en route, but they all disappear in a puff of smoke when the driveway of Madon House appears in front of me. Play it by ear is my only option. I've got a posh fitted dress on, but my heels are lower than yesterday. More manageable. They make the walk to the elevators easier on my trademark unsteady legs.

Courage of my convictions.

I'm glad I have foundation on to hide my pallor as I reach the door of the top suite. It's Mum that opens the door this time, and she pulls me in for a hug as though I've been gone a lifetime.

"It's been a long night," she says.

"Yeah, tell me about it."

She takes my hand and gives it a squeeze. "Dad's through here."

I hold her back, just for a moment – because I know of his temper. I know of his morals, and his overwhelming concern for his little girl.

"How is he doing?"

She tips her head. "So so. He wants to tear Connor's bollocks off, but that's to be expected."

"And how about Josh's?"

Mum smiles. "Maybe not a question for right off. Let's focus on you, ok?"

"Sure."

Dad looks a bit better today than yesterday, sitting at the suite table with his arms folded and a cup of tea in front of him. He isn't beetroot red, and he isn't ghostly pale, so that's a plus sign. Middle ground.

"Hey," I say, and take a seat opposite him.

"Hey," he says back, and his tone is much calmer today. He blows out a breath. "I thought we'd be on a plane back by now, all three of us."

Mum goes to the kettle and flicks it on. "Things don't always work out as planned, Ted. Ella's here now, so there are three of us, we're just at a table, not on a plane."

Dad gestures at the window. "Is that where you live? Over there, in one of those towers?"

"Yeah." I point. "The one on the right."

Mum presents me with a mug of tea, and sits down next to Dad. "We couldn't stop staring at it last night, knowing you were over there."

Her words choke me up. "We must have been staring at each other then, because I couldn't stop staring over here, either." I struggle to take a breath, fuck the six million scenarios. "I just wished you were in our place with me. I've had the guest room made ready."

Dad's throat bobs, but he doesn't break down. We sit in silence, the three of us, the air heavy with emotion. I don't care who is going to speak first, or what they are going to say. Being with Mum and Dad is enough in itself, and I soak up every moment, no matter how painful it is.

Mum is the one who clears her throat and begins the conversation.

"Your dad and I have some questions. We gather you don't work in a seedy brothel somewhere, and you don't have a druggie pimp pushing you into it, but we want to know more."

"Who is this agency you work for?" Dad asks. "How does it work, and what do they pay you and all that?" He waves a hand. "Not the… details details, just the setup."

I'm very glad my parents don't want to know the details details. I wouldn't fancy talking about stinging nettles, or being bathed by Daddy.

I tell them about how Ebony first introduced me to The Agency, and how I approached her because not only was I skint and living on pasta, but because I was genuinely missing sex. Dad flinches at that, but Mum is ok, nodding her head.

"I knew they paid well, and I knew it was super safe and very well managed, and I knew I wanted to do it. I just, um, didn't know how much I'd love doing it, and how the pay would go off the scale."

I carry on, telling them how I have full control over which proposals I accept. About how strict the agency is when vetting both clients and entertainers, and how professional the code of conduct is with everything from sexual health reports to confidentiality.

"They've taken really good care of me," I say. "They made my store job look like an absolute joke in comparison. My boss there was a bitch who criticised me for everything she could. This job is the total opposite. They appreciate everything I do." I chance a smile. "Hence my bank balance."

Dad listens without butting in or disputing anything, which is unusual for him. He asks questions along with Mum, and I can see both of their brains whirring, trying to digest things, but there isn't the panic or the outrage that there was yesterday.

"I'm proud of what I do," I tell them. "I know it may not be the dream career you had in mind for your daughter, but I am your daughter, and this is me. I'm confident. Happy. Successful." I pause. "In love with a man who loves me back. Who is successful himself, and not just dragging me around to gigs as a hang on, and relying on me for pasta every night."

"This Josh guy," Dad says. "He's a, what's it? Entertainer as well, isn't he?"

"Yeah, he is, and he loves it, too."

"Isn't that a bit fucked up?"

I shrug. "No. It's our job."

"Some job," he says, "I'm sorry, but no matter how you sugarcoat it with fancy names and bulging bank accounts, you fuck people for money, and so does this Josh bloke."

I flinch at that but stay calm. "You're right," I say, "technically we are prostitutes, whores, whatever you want to call it. But I'm not standing on street corners, flashing my thighs and looking for tricks. This is high-end, no risk, extremely well-managed, and both me and Josh are bloody good at it."

"And how does your boyfriend feel, being with you after you screwed a dirty old man?"

"Ted!" Mum says, "there's no need for that."

"Yes, there is, Mum," I say, "You're right, Dad. Apart from the dirty old man bit. My boyfriend is fine with it, and so am I. Having sex on the job when entertaining is very different from having sex with someone you love."

He goes red at that, and I can see him searching for more words.

"You taught me something, Dad," I say, "as I was growing up."

"And what was that?" Dad looks me in the eye and I can see the turmoil.

I think back to the time I remember clearly. It makes me smile. "I think I was only around seven or eight, and that awful neighbour, Robson I think he was called."

Dad huffs. "Robson Black, let his dogs shit in every garden but his own."

"That's the one. Despite him being a boxer and twice your size, you asked him nicely to put a stop to it. And when it kept happening you asked him again. When it still happened the next day, and you saw him just standing there, letting his dogs crap on our lawn, you were seething."

"That's right," Mum says, "you went and bagged that mess up, knocked on his door and gave him the bag, despite him being built like a brick outhouse, you stood up to him, told him there'd be trouble if it didn't stop. I was so proud of you."

Dad huffs again, but at least there's the hint of a smile. "And what did that teach you?" he asks me.

"I remember when you came back in the house, how Mum hugged you and yes, I remember her saying she was proud. And you said something. You said that we should always have the courage of our convictions, no matter who we have to stand up to. That you were simply standing up for what was right. You repeated that a few times as I was growing up. And you passed that thinking on to me."

"How so?" Dad says.

"My very strong convictions are my job, and my boyfriend, and how I will stand proud and defend my job – my life – until the cows come home, as Mum would say. I believe that what I'm doing, the path I'm on, is most definitely the right one."

Dad hesitates, but can't help himself. "Whoring yourself with other people then going home and fucking your boyfriend is a lot different to picking up dogshit."

"It's not at all different, Ted," Mum says, "I can see so much of you in Ella. How headstrong she is, how determined." Mum squeezes his arm. "You know what they say. Different strokes for different folks."

He pulls one hell of a face. "Not the best analogy."

I can't help myself, I have to laugh at that. Different strokes, for different folks. Perfect. I've got my eyes closed tight when I hear Mum's laughter. Dad tries to give a you two, in a disapproving tone, but he breaks, and chuckles along with us. It's such a welcome relief to the tension.

"You're right," Dad says, "everyone should have the courage of their convictions. Glad I taught you something."

I use the opportunity.

"Will you meet Josh, please? Give him a chance? You've seen the pictures. You've seen the way we are together. Just, please, give him a chance to introduce himself. You can see our place. You can grill us all you want, and Josh won't mind. He'll answer you."

Mum looks at Dad, but Dad is staring at his tea mug.

"Ted?" she asks. "What do you think? Shall we do it?"

"Not sure."

"If you think he's a prick, you can tell him," I say. "Just give him a chance, please. That's all I'm asking. And I really want to show you my place."

Dad keeps staring at his tea mug.

"Ted?" Mum prompts again, but there's no answer. She looks at me instead, and sighs. "Fine, well I'm coming. Screw it, I'll give Josh a chance, and I want to see your place, Ells. I want to know where you're living now."

She gets up from her seat, and heads for her handbag. Dad stares up at her with one of those unspoken looks between them, but she shrugs.

"Up to you, Ted. You can come or not, but I'm going. Meet us later, if you want."

I know what the answer will be. My heart is thumping as I down the rest of my tea and get to my feet. I grab my own handbag as Mum puts her coat on.

"Alright," Dad says with a grouchy sigh, and gets up himself. "But if he's a wanker, I'm going to tell him so, believe me."

"Don't worry," I say. "I believe you."

I fire off a message to Josh while Dad buttons up his coat.

On my way back… with Mum and Dad.I add a shocked emoji, and he replies with a grin.

I'll be ready x

I love the walk back to the towers with my parents. The class and beauty of our surroundings is undeniable. I watch them as their eyes dart about, taking in the scene around them. The courtyard gardens have Mum stopping to admire the flowers, and Dad checks out one of the benches.

"Class," he says, and I nod with a grin.

"Yeah, everything around here is top quality."

Including my boyfriend.

In any normal circumstances Dad would whistle at the lobby and the elevators, they are so grand, but he just nods his approval. It'll do for now. Mum checks herself in the elevator mirror, and she's impressed by this place, I can tell by the look in her eyes. Who'd have ever thought it? My parents are loving my new home. Hardly a seedy brothel where I'm chained up by a pimp.

"Here we are," I say as we walk along the hallway, and Dad puffs himself up before I open the front door. Mum squeezes his arm, in the don't kick off way I recognise.

I swing open the door, with my heart in my throat, and Dad's mouth actually gapes. So does Mum's.

The memory of me stepping in here for the first time rushes back to me. Its brilliance, its opulence, its personality. And my personality is in here too now. The brocade sofa, and new trinkets along with Josh's. It's clearly ours, not just his.

"This is alright," Dad says, and wanders into the kitchen, and I grin, because alright in that tone means fucking awesome.

"It's great," Mum says, and she's beaming. She runs a hand across the worktop.

"Yeah, marble," I tell her, and she nods.

I hear Josh's footsteps as he paces out of the bedroom.

"A coffee, anyone?" he says, and Mum and Dad spin in shock.

OMG. Josh is in his purple suit, with a black tie, his hair styled perfectly. I could jump into his arms and kiss him for ever, because he's made such an effort.

He holds out a hand for a handshake.

"Ted, Debbie, pleased to meet you. I'm Josh."

Dad shakes his hand, looking Josh up and down as though he's trying to see into his soul. Mum actually responds to a hug, even though she looks a bit unsteady.

I dash up to my boyfriend, and wrap my arm around his waist, and he kisses my head, then grins down at me like he's the happiest man on the planet.

My parents have to see that. Dad shifts from foot to foot, but Mum is smiling.

"We've heard a lot about you," she tells Josh.

His green eyes stare right into hers. "Yes, I imagine you have. But I hope you get to know me for yourselves."

"We'll definitely be checking you out," Dad says, still maintaining his foot shifting, but his expression is lightening, just a bit.

"Coffee?" Josh asks again and steps over to the state of the art machine, but Dad shakes his head.

"Nah, tea, please. Two sugars."

"Coming right up. And you, Debbie?"

"Same, please, but one sugar, not two."

Josh gets to it, and Mum gives me a wink. I could laugh out loud.

"Can you show me the bathroom, please, Ells?" she asks, and I take her on through.

She drags me in along with her.

"Pictures don't do him justice," she says when the door is shut. "That man should be on the cover of every magazine in the world."

"What did you expect?" I laugh. "He makes his money as an entertainer." I hug her as we stare into the mirror. She's an older version of me, and she's blonde, but it's clear where I get my looks from.

"I've got you to thank for my success," I tell her. "Without your genes, I wouldn't be nearly so high up the rankings."

"Shhh," she says. "I'm not taking the credit for it, and don't say that to your dad, please. He'll pull a face!"

I chance the question.

"Think he's getting on ok with Josh out there?"

"I don't know, sweetheart, but it's a good sign he's here."

"Are you going to give him a chance?"

I love my mum's smile, and the sparkle in her eyes. I always will.

"Depends how good his cup of tea is."

I laugh. "You're going to love him, then."

The universe shines down like a dream on me today. Josh's tea is enough to impress, and my parents take a tour of our place before they take a seat in the living room. Time for the conversation. They grill Josh, and they grill me some more, but slowly, slowly, the conversation turns to other matters. Belgravia. The workout equipment, the best exercises to do for you back muscles. Sports. Flowers in the courtyard. And then us. Me and Josh. What are our plans?

I could cry with happiness when my boyfriend holds me to his side like the proudest man on the planet.

"Your daughter is the greatest woman there is. No offence meant, Debbie," he laughs. "Honestly, whatever my plans are, or wherever they lead, they will include Ella's along with me. I wouldn't let her go for anything. I would run into a burning building if she asked me to, or climb Everest if she wanted some photos for her timeline. I'd even watch Nighttime Whispers ten thousand times in a row."

My fucking God, I could poke him in the ribs, especially when Mum leans back on the sofa and says I love that show, too.

It feels like we're awaiting a verdict. The thumb up or down from the Emperor and Empress after a gladiator battle. I hold my breath, waiting. I know the signs. I also know the words that will give the result.

"Shall we have another cup of tea, Deb?" Dad asks, and she nods.

"Yes, please," she says to Josh. "If there's one going."

Holy fuck, it's a success. It's a fucking success. I want to leap into the air with joy, I really do. I squeeze Josh's knee as he gets up with an of course and heads over to the kitchen.

I lean towards Dad when the kettle's on.

"So? Do you like him?"

He shrugs, pretending he's still thinking about it. "He seems alright."

"So does the guest room," Mum says. "I think we could try it out for a night or two, what do you think, Ted? I'd quite like to."

He looks over at Josh in the kitchen – my stunning boyfriend making tea, just the way they like it.

"Yeah, ok, we can give it a try," Dad says, and then he reaches out and squeezes my shoulder and my heart soars to the sky. He doesn't tell me he's proud of me, but I can see it in his eyes and the small nod he gives me.

I nearly lunge at Josh in happiness when he delivers the fresh tea.

"Mum and Dad are going to stay with us for a few nights," I tell him, and his face lights up like mine.

"Really?" he says, and looks at them. "Wow, that would be an honour."

We relax into the sofas, all set for another round of getting to know you questions, but Josh wraps an arm around my shoulders.

"Ted, Debbie, it would be incredible if you could do me another honour," Josh says. "My parents have invited you to Sunday dinner next weekend. They'd love to meet you, and my mum makes insanely good Yorkshire puddings." He meets their eyes, one after the other, imploringly. "I'd really appreciate it if you could join us."

Dad smirks, just a bit. "Yorkshire pudding is always a winner," he says, and looks at Mum, who nods at him. "Fine, count us in. I hope your mum makes a good cup of tea, too. If she was the one that taught you, she'll do alright."

"Don't worry about that," Josh says with a laugh. "And her apple crumble is to die for." He pauses, and looks at me, with an expression worthy of a cringey romance movie. "Just like your daughter is."

Under any normal circumstances, I'd roll my eyes, but not today.

It makes my parents smile, and that is enough to die for.