I'll Be Home For Christmas. Abbey Clancy
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water on my face, and stared at myself in the cracked mirror. There were still bright red lipstick kisses all around the edges from its previous customers.
I looked like a pufferfish, but I didn’t suppose that mattered. But I felt like a zombie, which mattered more.
After a few deep breaths, I decided I had to talk to Daniel. He was one of the most calm, steady and sensible people I knew. Maybe that’s why we worked so well together – I could get overexcited at an episode of Coronation Street, but he was always on a level. He’d hear me out, and let me cry, and then say something so utterly sensible and sane and perfect that I’d feel better about the world immediately.
I didn’t see the point in going back to Patty’s lair, where I wouldn’t be able to hear myself think for all the baby-sacrificing, so instead I found myself a quiet corner in the little courtyard garden outside.
It’s not huge – not in this part of London – but big enough for a table and chairs, and a few boxes of flowers. The noise from the street is pretty minimal, and it’s an unexpectedly calm spot.
Usually it’s occupied by at least one builder on a fag break, but it was blessedly empty when I emerged into the sunlight, clutching my phone and sniffling.
Daniel answered on the first ring, which told me two things: that he’d finished his chores around the farm (collecting eggs from the chickens and feeding our Billy goat, who we’d named Gandalf because he looked so wise and intelligent); and that he hadn’t yet started work (finding new and funky samples to use on a track by Vella, one of the new artists he was working with).
‘Good morning, gorgeous,’ he said immediately, and I couldn’t help but smile. Honestly, the fact that he could make me smile even when I felt so awful was enough to warm my insides.
‘I love you,’ I replied. ‘You know that, don’t you?’
‘I do. Because you bought me that T-shirt that has it printed all over the front: Jessy Hearts Daniel. I’m wearing it today. Gandalf was very taken with it. You OK? You sound a bit . . . damp. Have you been crying?’
‘Erm. . .yeah.’ He knows me too well.
‘Did Patty throw a dart at your face?’
‘No! I confiscated her darts after the last time!’
‘OK. Have you been thinking about that scene in The Lion King where Simba realizes his dad isn’t going to wake up?’
‘No, but now I am, and it’s not helping. It’s Vogue, Daniel. She’s back with Jack. And she’s given him a bloody job – here! I just can’t believe it . . . and I’m so angry . . . and I’m not just angry, I’m worried . . . about her, and about us, and about everything!’
The words rushed out of my mouth so fast they sounded a bit blurry even to me, so I completely understood when Daniel didn’t respond immediately.
After a few seconds, he finally spoke. But all he said was one word: ‘Ah.’
It’s a short word, and possibly not even a word at all, more of a sound or an exclamation, but it told me a lot.
Because while Daniel knows me inside out, I also know him inside out – and an ‘ah’ like the one he’d just murmured isn’t a simple thing. For a start, he didn’t sound shocked. He didn’t freak out, or swear, or drop the phone in surprise. He just said one quiet little ‘ah’. This was not the reaction I would have expected from Daniel, who, while not the kind of bloke who has fights or causes scenes, despises Jack Duncan with a quiet passion. Partly for what he did to me, partly for the way he conducts himself in business.
That one little ‘ah’, and the silence that followed it, told me this: Daniel already knew. That the huge shock I’d just had wasn’t as much of a shock to him. That it wasn’t only Vogue who’d kept this revelation to herself.
‘You already knew,’ I said, feeling somehow betrayed. I didn’t make it a question – I didn’t need to – I made it a statement of fact.
‘I didn’t know she’d decided,’ he replied, using the calm tone of voice he uses when he thinks I’m about to go ballistic. ‘I’d heard she’d been in talks with him, but just gossip. Nothing concrete. They’d been seen together a few times having meetings, and I knew he was looking to leave Starmaker. This was all grapevine stuff – nothing certain – and you know most of the grapevine stuff turns out to be crap.’
‘We both know you made that up to fuel your sick fantasies, but why, Daniel? Why didn’t you tell me? I just bumped into him upstairs! I could have done with some . . . I don’t know, warning?’
‘Well,’ he replied, and I could hear the sounds of the garden around him. He’d walked outside – probably barefoot, probably holding a mug of coffee – and I could hear the animals making animal noises in the background. I could picture him there, and usually that would immediately reassure me – but now . . . well, I felt a bit thrown, to be honest.
‘Well. . .’ he repeated, and again I could picture him – he was sitting down on the sawn-off tree stump and looking out at the hills, ‘first of all, I’m really sorry you’re feeling so awful. If I’d known anything for sure, I’d have told you. But it was just gossip, so I didn’t want to upset you for no reason. I could have got you all freaked out for nothing. And part of me thought – still does – that it was Vogue’s story to tell, you know?’
I felt the tears coming back again, and squished them so hard with my eyelids they just squirted out a tiny bit at the sides. I was now frustrated as well as angry and scared, and it was a pretty toxic combination.
‘Well, she didn’t tell me the story. Not until I literally walked in on them, cuddling up on the couch together. . .’
‘Oh!’ Daniel said, now sounding genuinely shocked. ‘Really? She’s taken him back in that way? After everything that’s happened? You’ve got to be kidding!’
‘No, I’m not kidding. And I felt the same way. Look, I’ve got to go, all right? I can see a bevvy of builders heading in my direction with flasks and packets of Benson & Hedges. . .’
‘OK. Look, I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, Jessy. Maybe I should have. Probably I should have. And I’m really sorry you’re so upset. And I love you.’
I stood up, and looked around at the completely empty garden. There were no builders. No flasks. No Benson & Hedges. I just felt shaken up, a bit knocked for six as my dad would say, and needed an excuse to get off the phone.
The fact that I was finding excuses to end a conversation with Daniel – and that I was fibbing to him – wasn’t really helping me feel any more steady or in control. It was like the world had turned upside down.
‘Love you too,’ I said, quickly. ‘I’ll call you later.’
I made my way back inside the building, just in time to see Patty disappearing out of it. There was, surprisingly, no cloud of sulphur surrounding her, just a faint whiff of Dior Poison. I hung back so I could avoid bumping into her, and then went back to our office. I have no idea how Patty would react to me crying – possibly, she’d be unexpectedly kind; possibly, she’d eat me like a praying mantis on a wildlife documentary. It wasn’t worth the risk so I hid.
It was now blessedly quiet in there, and I was able to sit and think for a moment. To try to stop blubbing. To sort through my thoughts. Vogue had lied to me – or at the very least deliberately kept something huge a secret. And Daniel had known . . . kind of. Being fair, I understood why he hadn’t mentioned it – he didn’t know for sure and didn’t want to upset me. But being unfair, it added to the sense of betrayal I was feeling – like the big kids had been ganging up on me. Not very mature, I know, but that’s feelings for you.
I needed to talk to someone outside this world, and be reminded