Page 19 of The Jealous Girl

I leaned back against the chair, a smug sense of satisfaction building in my chest. They’d wanted me out of their lives. Out of their business. And yet they’d never truly gotten rid of me.

Not then.

And not now.

I found Charlotte’s profile and scrolled through the images. Sweeping views of the Purbecks. Horses, some I recognised the names of, and some I didn’t. But among them was photo after photo of Charlotte.

Laughing.

Posing.

Perfect.

Lunches with friends, their glasses raised and smiles wide. Photos of her horse riding, snapped along her usual morning route. Gym selfies showing off her perfectly toned and tanned body in cropped workout tops and leggings. Group shots outside cinemas and clubs. Dim lighting, blurred focus, but still full of movement.

Charlotte’s whole life was captured, preserved and displayed.

I inhaled sharply. It felt like she was taunting me with the perfection of it.

But it wasn’t just what she was posting. It was what I wasn’t.

No lunches. No spontaneous plans. No groups of friends. Just early shifts. Late finishes. Careful budgeting. Beans on toast and evenings snuggled on the sofa beneath a fleecy throw to save on heating weren’t worth photographing, let alone sharing.

Charlotte was living.

I was surviving.

My life wasn’t something to post. It was something to get through. Thoughts of Janine sprang back into my head…

Six Years Ago

‘I could apply,’ I said quietly. ‘Just to see what happens…’

Janine smiled, that tight smile of hers that looked more like a grimace. The one that told me I was overreaching. Again.

‘University?’ she said, her voice laced with something bordering on disbelief. ‘That would be a lot for you, don’t you think? Especially one so far away. You’d have to actually move out. Manage on your own…’ She let her words hang for a moment before giving a small shake of her head, as though she was answering her own question.

‘Other kids do it,’ I pointed out.

‘True. Other kids do.’

Even her agreement felt like a correction.

I wasn’t other kids. I was me.

‘I just think you need to be realistic about your limits.’

I swallowed. Maybe she was right. There were universities closer to home. Ones in Birmingham. Ones I could commute to.

‘Let’s put our heads together and come up with something a bit more manageable for you.’

I nodded gratefully. Janine’s words might be blunt, but she was only looking out for me. Helping me. Protecting me. Even if that needed to be from myself, sometimes.

‘Why don’t you pop the kettle on and make us a nice cup of tea while we work? You’re good at that.’

I inhaled deeply, pushing the past back where it belonged. Back then, I’d listened to Janine. I’d stayed home. Commuted to university. Kept everything manageable. Stayed within my limits. It had felt like the sensible choice; safe.

Yet something about it still felt off. I’d felt off.