We head to the kitchen and spend some time cooking up dinner ready for when Aradia gets home from teaching yoga. The kitchen is full of joy and laughter. I want to hold on to this life for as long as I can.
Fourteen
I’m sitting on the sofa in the apartment back in London. The rain is hitting the windows with force creating a loud drumming effect. The apartment which once was beautiful is dark and cold. I’m alone and I feel it to the depths of my core. Joy seems to have disappeared out through the front door never to be seen again. The clock spins faster. The outside world goes dark to light and light to dark as if the days are flashing before me. And nothing changes. I look down at my hands to see Greg’s grandmother’s ring placed upon my finger. I look to the side table by the sofa to see me in a wedding dress, forced smile and next to Greg. I married him. My chest starts to implode but stops as a blinding light descends through the windows. So bright and warm it knocks me back.
Panic hits my chest and awakens me quickly. The realisation that I am still in the cottage tucked up in the spare bed brings my breathing and heart rate back down. The night is still black outside. I shuffle my hand in the dark to find my phone. It’s 2 am.
I flick on the lamp to find a glass of water to help my dry mouth and throat. Nettle is curled up at the foot of the bed. He stretches as the light turns on. He makes his way sleepily up thebed and curls up next to me. I stroke his scruffy fur which brings me the comfort I need.
I take my phone off do not disturb and scroll through Instagram. I haven’t been on there in so long. It’s full of reels and photos of “friends” back in London living their most glamorous lives. A part of me feels, for a second, a sense of missing it all. Where I was so absorbed with how I looked and dressed and being with Greg that I never worried about anything else. Now I have so much to worry about and so many people I care about!
I see a picture that Lauren posted half an hour ago of her in Opal London, a nightclub for the elite. A sophisticated modern aesthetic with polished black marble and chrome accents. She’s in a gold sparkly low-cut mini dress with matching stilettos and holding a bottle of champagne and I can see people I know in the background dancing. I say know… we see each other in passing at other elite places in London or pretend to be best friends on social media to give the illusion we’re all an exclusive group of socialites. I can see she is in the VIP booths. Plush velvet with low profile tables and private service. Very over the top, but of course she is in the VIP section, and of course she will have to show that off.
Just as I go to scroll, I see him. Greg. He isn’t sat with her, but he is at the same club. After crying down the phone to me, he is out with the woman he cheated on me with. He is sat with the familiar crowd: Henry, Lloyd and Rowen. All from private schools and all have the same values as Greg. Would not surprise me if they have all had a go on Lauren.
I feel so angry. First, for the fact that a part of me felt sorry for him. And second, I still must marry the twat. No wonder my dreams are telling me how miserable I’m about to be.
I lie awake for a bit, contemplating if I should head down to Granny’s library and see if there is a spell to send Greg explosive diarrhoea, but I would fuck it up and give it to myself. I don’tknow the first thing about magic let alone actually trying a spell. Stick with the dream telling to start with, Harri.
I eventually drift off and wake to my 5 am alarm groggy and slightly regretting offering my services to Jim and his grocery shop. A quick shower, some comfortable lined leggings and a thick wool jumper lift my spirits and bring my head back to being a decent human being and doing something kind for someone else. I push last night’s dream to the back of my head and decide to just get through the day.
I had told Jim I would meet him for opening at 6:30 so need to get a move on. I decide to skip breakfast and grab something from Gloria’s when she opens.
Granny and Aradia are still sleeping, so I throw on my winter coat and boots and open the door to walk into the village.
“Good morning.” Sam is stood in front of me, hand raised as if he were about to knock. He brings it down. “Coffee?”
He hands me a flask with coffee inside.
“You really are the Brindlewood sweetheart, aren’t you?” My heart is fluttering at the sentiment.
“Not always,” he teases as his eyes darken, looking at my lips. “But just thought I’d be nice to you in case I ever need a place to crash in London.”
I roll my eyes and push his arm slightly. Even with my weight training at the gym back in London, there is not a chance I am moving him. His arms are pure muscle. He knows he is stronger than I am. I can see it in his eyes. I imagine his hands on me again, smoothing over my skin, making their way to my throat. He snaps me out of my daydream.
“So, first day at Jim’s, huh? You excited or nervous?” He smirks.
“A bit of both.” We start walking towards the village, the night still surrounding the forest around us. The wintry morning makes our breath show in the air when we talk.
“I get that. But you are gonna do great. You are smart, organised and you have got that way with people. I bet the customers are going to love you.” He nudges me gently with his arm.
“Thanks.” I smile up at him as we walk.
He glances over at me. “Plus, it is not like I can let you go into the grocer business without someone to keep you grounded. It’s a big gig working at Jim’s.” He smirks.
“Ha-ha. Cheers for that. It’s actually why I’m kind of nervous about getting everything right. What if I mess up? That poor man’s business could go to pot because I am rubbish.” Panic takes a hold of me.
He shrugs.“You’ll learn. We all mess up at first. It is part of the fun. And hey, if you mess up, at least you have got me to help fix it, right? Plus, what mischief could you get in to? So, you stick the apples with the carrots and the potatoes with the cucumbers. That is about as much mischief as you can do, Harri.” His dimples appear on his cheeks with his smile.
He brings so much warmth, a feeling I’ve never experienced before, where I want to do unspeakable things to him but then cook him dinner and massage his shoulders after a hard day. God, what is wrong with me? I swallow and bring myself back once again. “I’ll call you if I end up stuck in the stockroom trying to figure out the difference between a cucumber and a potato.” I smirk.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got your back. Together we will work out all the vegetables! But seriously, Harri, you will be fine.”
“You really think so?”
He nods then rubs the back of his neck. “I know so. And if you ever need a dinner date after work to unwind, I am always free.”
I playfully raise my eyebrow. “I’ll hold you to that. First day at work, and you are already offering dinner dates?”
