Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Three

It’s almost 7 a.m.when I walk in through my bedroom door, still flying high after the cab ride. I haven’t even shrugged off my coat when I feel a buzz from my pocket. I’m glad I’ve been dancing too much to get completely wrecked on champagne. I can still see my phone screen happily enough when I pull it from my pocket.

I get a storming mass of tingles when I see it’s a message from Josh. I still can’t believe I’ve made such an impression on him.

I flop down on my bed as I read it. Butterfly city in my stomach. They are swirling like a tornado.

Had a great time, Ells. Let me know when you’re back from Australia, and I’ll book a table for the date.

Funny, how one of the biggest hardcorers of the hardcorers is the most gentlemanly man I’ve ever met. No groping, no fucking in a toilet cubicle, no diving into a cab and heading to his or mine together. Just a kiss under the mistletoe. An amazing one at that.

Ok, that’s a lie.

At least three… but still. Just kisses. Hardly throat fucking me with a Christmas lolly, or fisting my pussy under the tree.

I’m about to reply when I catch sight of the missed calls from Mum and Dad. Shit, what the hell? There are seven of them… seven, all in a row. I’ve just been partying too hard to notice. I feel beyond guilty as I click play on their latest voicemail. It’s Mum on the line, and she sounds petrified.

Ella, will you call us, please? What the hell is going on? We’re seriously worried now. We messaged Connor, and he said you’ve left him.

Left him? What a joke.

There is no getting around this anymore. My guise is over. No more I’mfine, just busy messages from me.

I grab my laptop and fire it up. I only take a few seconds to calm myself before I hit the call button, taking deep breaths with my finger hovering. I know this is going to be emotional. I’m quaking at the brilliance of breaking the news of my trip, I only wish they weren’t going to be so upset about my split with Connor. Wanker. I wish he hadn’t replied to them, the idiot. What a way to piss on my parade.

The butterflies swarm off and I get one hell of a lurch in my stomach as my parents appear onscreen in front of me, both of them looking horrifically nervous. No surprise there, though. Thanks, Connor, you absolute prick.

“Ella!” Mum says, with her hand on her chest. “What’s been going on? Why haven’t you been talking to us!?”

I don’t have the chance to answer before Dad jumps in.

“Don’t even think about brushing us off with the work is busy bullshit this time. No bullshit, please. NONE.”

The tears are already prickling my eyes. I can’t help but grin, as my eyes start flooding, and they look so confused. Dad’s got his WTF expression on his face, eyebrows raised.

“I’ve been keeping a few secrets,” I admit through my tears.

“No shit,” Dad says, and folds his arms, clearly confused as hell.

“Ella, you could have called us at any time, ANY,” Mum says. “We’d have been there for you! You only had to say.”

I nod. “Yeah, I know that.”

“So why didn’t you tell us about Connor? Seriously, Ella. Why keep us in the dark like that? Why?”

“Because there is a bigger secret,” I tell her. “One I’ve been trying to avoid on purpose. Seriously. It’s been so hard. I knew you’d see through the crap I’ve been spewing eventually.”

Mum and Dad look at each other before they address me again. They must think I’ve gone mad.

“A bigger secret than the break up?” Mum asks. “What? Have you met someone else or something? Is that why you’ve left him? Did you leave Connor for someone else?”

I laugh at that. “This has nothing to do with Connor, I swear. And I didn’t leave him actually, he went off with a stupid cow called Carly a while ago. He turned up with a crappy bunch of flowers the other day and expected me to take him back. That’s what he means by I left him. He’s full of shit. But it’s ok now. I’m over it. Honestly. I couldn’t give a toss about Connor. My big secret has nothing to do with him.”

They try to digest it. I know it’s got to be hard. They’ve known Connor as long as I have. They love him, like I did.

Or so I think…

“Thank fuck for that,” Dad says, with a sigh. “He’s been an arrogant fucking idiot since the day you met him. Good riddance to bad rubbish. Stupid asshole.”

Mum’s smiling. She’s actually smiling. I can’t believe it.

“I’ll send this Carly a thank you card. She deserves it. Just so long as you’re ok, sweetheart. Please tell us you’re ok.” She scopes out my twinkling tiara, and the sparkles on the neckline of my dress. And at the party worthy makeup still on my face, and the wave of curls still in my hair. “You look ok, actually. You look great.” She pauses. “Ella, what’s been happening over there? You look… different.”

“Thanks,” I say, and then I can’t hold it back anymore. I blink and the tears coming flowing now. Hard. The weeks and weeks of avoiding my parents finally burst the dam and storm free. But they aren’t sad tears, I’m grinning at them both the whole way through, trying to find the words.

“What?” Dad asks. “Ella, what is it? Talk to us.”

I’m choking on the joy when I answer him. I’m blubbing so hard I’m not sure I’ll be understandable.

“I’m flying over to see you, in three days’ time. I’m spending Christmas with you. I’m coming to Australia! I’ve been trying to keep it a surprise, but I can’t anymore. I mean it. I’m coming to Australia!”

“You’re coming to–” Mum’s words trail off as she clasps her hands over her face. “You’re flying over? To us? Are you serious?”

“Yes! In three days. I’m getting the flight from Gatwick on Tuesday. I was going to tell you tomorrow, I promise. I wanted to keep it as close to Christmas as I could. To make it a surprise.”

They stare at me in silence, open mouthed as I blub away. I wipe the tears from my eyes as I giggle. The relief flows through me like liquid gold.

I figured they’d be ecstatic, but I didn’t think my mum would start crying along with me. She starts blubbing as hard as I am, and Dad wraps his arm around her shoulder. He’s never been very emotional, all stiff upper lip and all that, but this time his stiff upper lip falls short. His bottom lip shakes, and then he breaks, all three of us buckling with emotion as the truth finally comes out.

“We’ve missed you so much,” Mum says. “We were trying to save up to come to you. Dad’s got a part-time job, so we could get the money together.”

I shake my head. “You don’t need to. I’m coming to you. And I’ve got a great job now, I can come whenever I want. Dad doesn’t need to work to save up.” I know I’m rambling, but I can’t stop. “Dad can quit his job right now. I’ll be able to fly you over, and after Christmas I’m going to get a bigger place, my own place. A place with a guestroom.”

“But how?” she asks. “What job have you got?”

Oh boy. I hope this description works…

“I work in PR, in the entertainment industry. I get assigned clients and work through proposals with them. It’s great. Fantastic money.”

“You’re in PR? In London?”

“Yeah. I got referred to an agency, through a friend of mine, and they took me on. I got the job! And I’m doing well. I’m one of their top performers already, after just a few weeks.”

“I just can’t believe this,” she says, still wiping her tears away. “I’ve been waking up in the night, I’ve been missing you so much. We’ve even talked about moving back home, just to be with you again. We’ve been so worried.”

“Moving back here and giving up your life in the sun?” I shake my head, so proud of myself. “You don’t need to now. I promise. I’ll be able to visit you loads. So much you’ll probably be sick of me.”

They both laugh at that.

“No chance,” Dad says. “You can be a little pain in the ass all you like, we won’t get sick of you. You can stay here for ever if you like.”

But I can’t do that… I can’t stay in Australia for ever. I realise that from the flood of pure energy that swallows me up. I have a life here now. I life of my own. Plans of my own. Dreams of my own. And none of them involve the dickhead with garage flowers and half-assed apologies. It’s all for me.

“You’re flying on Tuesday?” Mum asks, and I send her over the flight details.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got a cab booked straight over to yours.”

“No need for that,” Dad says. “We’ll be waiting at arrivals, don’t you worry. Dad’s cab will always be ready for you, Ells.”

I’m so overwhelmed that I touch the screen. I’ll be so happy to see them that a fresh pang sets the tears off again.

“I love you both so much.” My voice is practically a sob.

“And we love you, too,” Dad says, Mum too choked up to speak.

Fuck the fact it’s gone seven in the morning. We talk about Christmas plans, and what we’ll have for dinner, and how they’re going to show me the sights, and take me to the beach with them. I’m crying happy through all of it, the joy churning me up. And then Mum says the inevitable words… tell us about your new job in PR…

Um, well. I’ll need to think on that one. That’s a job description that will take some working out…

“PR, for clients,” I repeat. “It’ll be another surprise for you. I’ll tell you all about it when I get there.”

“Alright,” she replies. “We’ll let you off one more secret, just this time.”

“Well done, Ella,” Dad says. “We’re really proud of you.”

“Thanks. So am I,” I say, and I mean it. I am. I’m very, very proud of myself indeed.

There are another round of tears as we say goodbye, and I’m still sobbing my happy little heart out at the call ended screen when I notice a notification flag up in the agency app window.

Hmm, I should get to bed… but I’ll just take a look. Just to see.

User 5639. Male. 47.

Help me, please. I’ve got a Christmas party with people at work today, and nobody to take with me. I’ve got nobody here, in London. No friends, no family, no anything, and I can’t face turning up there alone.

I’ve got practically no money, and I’m sorry about that. I really am.

I just need some help if you can give it to me. Just a little bit of time to help me out. Nothing more than a few hours at a party. Call it charity. Please.

Proposal price – £30.

Duration – 3 hours.

I have to read it through three times over.

It hits me in the guts, his pain in just a few words – almost pure desperation. I’ve felt like that myself, all alone here in London. No friends, no family, no anything, having to force myself out to face the people at work every day. Let alone at a social. I also know how it feels to have no money. I know that sense of doom very, very well.

But it’s this afternoon. I’ll be exhausted.

Crazily, the green icon is next to Eb’s chat profile.

Are you there? I type.

Yeah. Ryan’s up already, rushing around the place, excited. He thinks he saw Rudolph outside the window last night.

I’ve seen plenty of pictures of her kids. Ryan’s her five-year-old. He must be going crazy over Santa Claus. Cute little guy.

I’ve got a proposal in, I tell her. For later on this afternoon.

This afternoon? Are you crazy? You haven’t even been to bed yet. I hope it’s worth mega bucks.

I can only imagine the surprise on her face when I send it over to her.

£30???? she says. The agency have seriously goofed up there. He must be a new user. They check them out thoroughly, though. They never take on anyone who’s skint. I can’t believe it. You should get right onto them.

I look at the threads. Yeah, 5639 is a new user. There is no mention of him anywhere in the forum.

He sounds desperate, I say.

Yeah, but £30?? That’s less than minimum wage for 3 hours. After the agency take their fees you’ll barely even cover your cab fare.

I must be quiet for too long.

You’re thinking about it, aren’t you? she types. You’re seriously considering a party this afternoon for £30? Come on, Ells. Click no, and get some sleep.

But I can’t. The situation feels too close to home. Too real. I can picture having nothing but a few bank notes in my purse, worried about getting to work and back and hating the idea of seeming so broke in front of my colleagues. If I turned up for this guy, I could buy some drinks for him and his colleagues as well. At least make him feel comfortable. He must be so alone to reach out like this.

The sympathy churns inside me. It’s not sympathy though, is it? It’s empathy. I’ve been in this guy’s shoes. Sure, I’ve never reached out to anyone via an agency website, but I met Eb in a dirty chatroom, and she was there when I needed her. She changed my life. Surely I can do it. Just to help someone.

Fuck it. I click on accept. The party is at 5 p.m. – time enough to get a bit of sleep and get over there, to Central Parade shopping centre in the middle of the city. Maybe he even has a job like I had, in a store at the shopping centre.

You’ve done it, haven’t you?? Eb asks. Ells, you’re mad. You could take on another last-minute client for another few k in your bank account, AT LEAST.

I’m going,I say. It’s only a few hours, and it’s hardly 14 hours of Daddy play, is it?

Just as well, since he can’t afford it.

She’s been in this game so long now that the thousands must rack up to seem like usual wages. But I’m not there yet. Not even close.

Fine,she says. Let me know how you get on later. If he tries anything on say NO.

Will do. Love you.

Yeah. Love you, too. Even if you’re being suckered in by a twat.

I laugh at her tongue out emoji.

I’ve been suckered in by a twat since I was a teenager, on the arm of a wannabe rockstar. At least this will be a guy who appreciates it.