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I refrained from reminding her that I was, in fact, Scottish even if my smoothed anglicised accent now suggested otherwise, and simply went with,“I think I’ll be fine.”
“Why are you doing this now, April? What about the job you had lined up?”
“Job? It was no better than a wet T-shirt contest. They wanted to let the male guests douse me with champagne before I served the drinks.” Ever since my career had taken what you could call a bumpy side road, I’d accepted any job thrown at me. I’d done what felt like every reality show going:Dancing With Celebrities,Celebrity Cook-Off(twice),Celebrities Go Dating. I’d gone to PR events in ridiculous costumes and shoes that made my feet bleed, stood next to men who made my skin crawl with a smile on my face. I had lowered myself to the part of a money-hungry socialite. But something about the sight of that little white T-shirt had set me off. The words of the event planner had pretty much sealed the deal.Darling, it’s nothing they haven’t seen before.
It made me feel guilty about the early days when the jobs had come thick and fast, basically falling into my lap. By the age of twenty-six, I’d won a BAFTA for best supporting actress, a year later I had two Golden Globes to add to my collection. All that was left was an Oscar. I’d even taped a picture of one to my refrigerator, my eyes set firmly on the prize.
Eyes on the prize, wee birdie.
Like anything worth having in life, it took years to build my career and only seconds to break it, because six months later the notion of an Oscar was laughable when I couldn’t even be certain I would work again.
“Oh, honey. Are you sure that Skye is a better alternative? You’re on an island for goodness’sake. Is there even a supermarket?”
Nope,but it had several convenience stores and we were in the time of food delivery. I would be absolutely fine.Mostly.
“Didn’t Angela send the contract over to you? She said she would.”
Angela of LDN Artistshadcontacted me and though she seemed to have a genuine, friendly nature, I’d yet to respond.“I don’t know if I’m ready for that, I only got out of my old contract a few months ago, I need a bit of time to think.” I switched her to speaker so I could rifle through the cupboards. Dudley might have been happily fed and snoozing with his legs in the air, but my stomach had begun to eat itself.
Sydney’s voice echoed off the high ceiling.“But you’ve been vindicated, surely this is the time to get back out there.”
Itdidn’t feel like vindication, it felt like the darkest part of my life under a microscope while a group of middle-aged men who’d all seen my tits decided my fate.“Vindicated?” I snickered into the quiet.“Aaron might have lost his job, but we both know he got a huge payout for leaving quietly. He’s going to be just fine, but I—” I’d lost years of what would otherwise have been an already fleeting career for a woman in the industry.
“That’s why you need to get back to work.”
“I’m not sure I want to get back to work.” The truth of my words terrified me because I knew nothing else. I wasn’t good at anything else. Add in the fact that I couldn’t financially afford to keep this place if I didn’t get back to work, and soon… my life was beyond a mess. I was the living embodiment of the meme of the guy walking in with pizza to find the entire apartment on fire.
But I couldn’t say a word of that to Sydney because while we were friends, we weren’t the sharing kind of friends, so I pushed a smile into my voice and said,“I’ll think about it and read through the contract.”
“Good. Are you sure you’re going to be all right?”
“I’m sure.” I looked around the kitchen, taking in the tattered deep-pine cabinets and the large six-seater dining table Kier had made himself as a wedding present to Elsie. I was in the shell of my childhood, blanketed beneath a layer of dust, but my next breath was the easiest I’d taken in years.
“What are you going to do?” she asked.
“I don’t know.” I bit a nail.“Whatever I want to do. Bake cookies and read all the neglected romance books on my e-reader. Go on walks. I could do yoga instead of circuit training… you know how much I hate burpees.”
She laughed.“You’ll be so bored you’ll be crawling back to London by the morning.”
The line went dead and the silence settled around me.“I guess we’re about to find out.”
2
APRIL
Bad Blood – Taylor Swift
“What’s the problem? The bed?” I could have sworn my dog looked put out.“The mattress is a little old but I brought our bedding from home, even that little blanket you like, see?” I held the scratchy green-and-purple tartan aloft—a memento of my childhood—for him to inspect and returned to setting up the bed. I hadn’t been able to bring myself to step into my grandparents’old bedroom, despite it being three times the size, complete with an en suite. No, this would do for now.
I whipped off the dust sheet and flipped the mattress that was in surprisingly good nick. In fact, the entire room had weathered the years well. The pale pink-and-white striped wallpaper I’d picked out as a young teen because it was almost identical to Cher’s bedroom inCluelesswas curling slightly at the corners, and the floorboards creaked more than they used to. Other than that, it was like stepping into a time warp.
Once I’d smoothed the silky bottom sheet, I threw on my favourite jade-green throw pillows that looked extravagant in my Instagram pics, when in fact, I’d picked them up at a bargain store. Looking at them now, in this place, I couldn’t think of a better metaphor for my life.
I was just fitting the top sheet, my beige-knickered arse in the air as I battled to get the quilt right into the corners of the coverlet, when I heard it.
Pop. Slide. Grunt.
Pop.
