‘I won’t, Mum. I’m just having lots of fun,’ I assure her. I’m having fun all right. Just not the sort of fun that she has in mind. ‘How’s Dad?’
‘Oh, you know. Golf mad, badminton mad, cricket mad. He has to keep on the go or he’ll go mad.’
‘It’s better than sitting on his backside all day, though.’ I say, collecting a mug from the cupboard. I make my way to the fridge.
‘He made such a fuss about leaving the city, but I knew he would be dead in a few years if I didn’t get him out. Now I can’t tie him down for anything. He’s always got something happening.’
I open the fridge – no milk. ‘That’s good, isn’t it? Keeping him active?’ I sit myself on the bar stool without my needed coffee.
‘Oh, I’m not complaining. He’s lost a few pounds too.’
‘How much?’ This is good. Everyone always said Dad was a walking heart attack candidate, with his weight, love of a few too many pints and a stressful job. As it turns out, everyone was right.
‘Just over a stone,’
‘Wow, I’m impressed.’
‘No more than me, Ava. So, what have you got to report?’
Loads! ‘Nothing much, I’ve been stacked out at work. I secured the next project from the developer of Lusso.’ I need to talk work. I’ll have no hair left if she starts prying into my social life.
‘Brilliant! I was showing Sue the photos on the internet. The penthouse!’ she sings.
Yes, I’m sat in it now. ‘Yeah,’ I need some wine.
‘Can you imagine living in such luxury? Your Dad and I are not short of a few, but that’s a whole other level of wealth.’
‘It is,’ I agree. Okay, the subject of work hasn’t gone as I planned. ‘What time does Dan land tomorrow?’ I blurt to divert the conversation.
‘Nine in the morning. Are you coming down with him?’
I flop forward onto the worktop. I’ve hardly given Dan’s impending arrival a second thought. What with all the crazy shit going on, I’ve not had a chance. I feel guilty all of a sudden. I’ve not seen him for six months.
‘I don’t think so, Mum. I’m just so busy.’ I whine, mentally pleading for her to understand.
‘That’s disappointing, but I understand. Maybe Dad and I could come up to see you when you’ve sorted a place of your own?’ She’s hinting that I need to pull my finger out. I’ve done nothing in that area of my life.
‘That would be really good.’ I don’t fake my enthusiasm. I would love for Mum and Dad to come back to London for a visit. They haven’t been back since they left, and I know it’s because they both secretly worry they’ll want to move back to the hustle and bustle.
‘Wonderful. I’ll speak to your Dad. I’d better go. Send my love to Kate.’
‘I will, I’ll ring next week when Dan’s there.’ I add quickly before she hangs up.
‘Lovely. Take care, darling.’
‘Bye, Mum.’ I slide my phone across the counter and drop my head in my hands.
If only she knew. My Dad would probably have another heart attack if he found out about my current state of affairs, and my Mum would be moving me down to Newquay. The only reason my Dad didn’t drive up after me and Matt split up was because Mum called Kate to find out if I really was okay. What would they think if they knew I was caught up with a neurotic, self-assured control freak, who is – in his own words – fucking me into oblivion? The fact that he’s super wealthy and owns the penthouse would not soften the blow. Christ, Jesse is probably closer to my Mum in age than I am.
I swing round on my stool when I hear a commotion coming from outside of the kitchen. Getting up to go and investigate, I’m nearly taken off my feet when Jesse’s naked chest flies at me.
WHOA!
‘Fucking hell, there you are.’ He grabs me, lifting me up to his sweat riddled body. ‘You weren’t in bed.’
‘I’m in the kitchen.’ I splutter in my dazed state. He’s squeezing me so tight, I’m struggling to breathe. ‘I saw you running. I didn’t want to disturb you.’ I wriggle a little to indicate that I’m being constricted to death. He releases me, setting me back on my feet, his glistening, stubbled face giving me the once over. His panicked features ease a bit as he holds me steady by my forearms in front of him. ‘I was just in the kitchen.’ I repeat. He looks like he could keel over at any moment. What’s wrong with him?
He shakes his head slightly, as if ridding himself of a nasty thought, picks me up and walks me to the worktop, sitting me on the cold granite. He pushes his way between my thighs.