“Hmmm, I bet! People have been talking, girl. Rehab is the biggest rumour in the circle. I shut them down obviously. If you were doing Charlie, you’d have told me, right? Or is it more hardcore? Heroin? Well, at least we know now how you stay so skinny,” she pokes playfully.
“It’s not drugs, Lauren. I’m just having some time out before the wedding.” I can feel myself wanting to snap at her but I reign it in.
“OK, if you say so, but look, darling, I need to go shopping, why don’t you join me? Greg told me you’ve been an absolute recluse. I’m in the car. I’ll get the driver to swing by yours and get you.”
I go to answer but she cuts me off.
“Great, Martin will be there in ten.” She puts the phone down.
When did she speak to Greg? Oh well. Typical Lauren, she never takes no for an answer and is used to getting what she wants. Her father is an oil tycoon from Texas in the US, and her mother is the former Miss Universe champion, so you can imagine the gene pool. Lauren has never worked a day in her life and instead chooses Instagram to display her luxury lifestyle. Lauren is as close as I can get to a good friend in this social circle without being used for money.
I twirl my hair up into a claw clip and cover it with a silk scarf along with my sunglasses. Hopefully, Lauren will just think I’m hungover and not hiding anything – that my appearance ischanging as much as my mind.
I head out of the front door and down the lift to the reception. As she said, her black Range Rover pulls up outside and her driver, Martin, steps out and opens the back passenger door for me. I slide in and Lauren is talking on the phone. She raises her finger at me letting me know she’ll be done in a minute. She’s beautiful, inherited from her mother, but enhanced by plastic surgery. She has glossy blonde Barbie hair that curls down her huge fake boobs. She’s wearing a little black dress with black Louboutins, her camel trench coat lying by the side of her. She also has her sunglasses on, but she most likelyisactually hungover. She finishes on the phone and places it in the middle of us.
She pulls her sunglasses down to the tip of her nose and looks me up and down.
“Oh, Harri, I didn’t realise it was this bad.” She tuts.
“Wha-What do you mean?” I adjust my jumper to cover myself a little more.
“Well, when Greg said you were having a blip, I didn’t think it was a whole fucking disaster movie.” She smirks and pushes her glasses back up her nose with her long nails.
“When did you speak to Greg by the way? He didn’t mention it.”
“Darling, he probably didn’t want you to worry, but he is worried about you. We saw each other in Mayfair the other week.” She smiles, showing her very white teeth.
“There’s nothing to worry about.” I shut her down.
He hadn’t mentioned running into Lauren, which is odd, but he probably just forgot. He’s so busy things slip his mind all the time.
“Let me put you in touch with some of my people. I’m sure we can get you on a list for some lipo and fine line treatments by the weekend.” She giggles, looking me up and down again. I hate I’mon the butt of her jokes instead of with her on them. It doesn’t feel good.
“I’m fine, Lauren. I’ve just been taking some time out, that’s all.” I turn to look out of the window. Maybe this was a bad idea.
“Well, girl, you need to take some time back in. We’re young, hot, rich and have no responsibilities. People would kill to be in our position. We’re going shopping and by the time we’re done, you’ll be feeling better.” She pats my shoulder in a half-arsed way.
I hope so. If it means I can stop feeling so lost, I’d happily press a button and go back to my old life.
We pull up at Sloane Street and jump out of the car. We head into a few different shops, and I painfully try to let myself enjoy it. I take a few things to the dressing rooms, clothes I would have been giddy about trying on a few weeks ago, but now I stand there, staring at the reflection feeling nothing but annoyed at how stupid they look, how expensive they are and what a waste of time this is.
Lauren, of course, buys bags full at each store, swiping her father’s credit card without a care in the world. We head into a lingerie store next and sit on the silk-lined couches while the shop assistants bring us champagne and options to look at.
“Why don’t you get something for Greg?” She winks. “It might do him some good seeing you in something a little less old.”
“How do you know I’m wearing something old, Lauren?” I shoot her a look.
“Oh, I know.” She gets such joy out of making others feel rubbish about themselves. “You’re wearing jeans. Shopping. And don’t get me started about what’s on your feet, Harri.”
“Greg’s not just in it for the underwear.” I sip my champagne and slide my feet under the pouffe in front of me.
“Of course he is, don’t be so naive. It’s what all men want,and you have one hottie of a man. I’d be careful he doesn’t get bored.” She rolls her eyes and picks up an emerald green lacy thong. “I’ll take this please, and the matching bra. Do you have a babydoll that goes with it?” She sips her champagne and watches the assistant go to the rails to find what she wants. She looks back at me. “I’m just being honest, Harri. You need to get over this little ‘issue’ you’re having and get back to your life. If you wanted attention so badly, why don’t you do an OnlyFans or something?”
I want to punch her in the face. Before I would have laughed with her at the misfortune of someone having a crisis, but now all I can think is: what a bitch. What a clueless, stupid, spoilt bitch she is. The realisation that something doesn’t feel right within me has opened my eyes to the majority of my friends and family and how they just don’t have a clue about anything but money. Even myself. I’m no angel, that’s for sure.
“I told you I’m fine, Lauren.” I stare at her.
She smirks and nods at me, sipping her drink. “If you say so, honey. Anyway, you have three days until my daddy’s charity ball and you know you have to be there. If you miss that, people will really start talking for sure. You’ve never missed one since we’ve been best friends.”
