Total pages in book: 150
Estimated words: 143633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 718(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 479(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 143633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 718(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 479(@300wpm)
“MUM!” I shouted, dashing after her, with relief, and hurt, and love all melting together in one big pot, tears in my eyes. “Thanks, Mum! Just wait! Please!”
She sucked in a breath, and turned to me, and her eyes were teary, too. But it wasn’t enough. Her pain was too strong to build the bridge between us. Even now, after defending me, she still looked as though I’d shit on her doorstep and was nothing but dirt.
“Leave him!” she told me. “Leave the prick and come back home. We can forget it ever happened. You can move back in. Just leave him.”
“I don’t want to leave him! I love him!”
“Fine, then,” she said. “Please yourself, but I’m not having it. I’m not seeing you with a piece of shit like him. No fucking way.”
“Mum–” I tried again, but she kept on walking. “MUM!” I shouted again, and I saw her shoulders hunch as she fought back tears.
And that set me off. I couldn’t hold back.
I dropped to my knees at the side of the road, not giving a fuck about anyone watching me, and I cried like a little girl who’d truly lost her mum. Beyond help. Beyond reason. Beyond anything.
Because I was one.
I was a little girl who’d lost her mum, and I loved her. I needed her. Nothing would ever make that go away.
Not even Julian. He wouldn’t be able to stop the pain of me losing my mother. But that didn’t matter, I wasn’t ever going to give him up.
I sucked in a breath of my own as Mum turned the corner at the bottom of the street, and forced myself to my feet, wiping away tears with the back of my hand as I composed myself as best I could.
And then I went home – my new home. And to the man upstairs.
The man who loved me.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Julian
We needed a change of scene, even just a token one. This place and all its bullshit was driving Rosie insane, even if she was keeping it together on the surface. Being estranged from her mother was taking its toll.
“Let’s go away,” I said. “Just for a weekend. One night away. Peter and Lola can come, too. We all need it.”
She finished up her mouthful of stew and her stare landed on mine.
“Do you think they would come? Really? Peter finds it hard, but I know Lola would love it.”
“How about you suggest it? They can only say no.”
“How about Much Arlock? We could go there,” Rosie said, but that wasn’t what I had in mind.
“I was thinking London. We need something more cosmopolitan. More alive. Bigger.”
Her eyes widened. “London?”
“Yes, London. Let’s do it.” I gestured to her phone. “Call Lola now. Get her and Peter along. I’ll book it for all of us. My treat. Fuck Dine’s Green and Crenham for a weekend. London would be just the scene. A stunning hotel. A night out clubbing. Champagne, and dancing, and chatting through the night. A hearty breakfast in the morning.”
“That sounds amazing.”
“It will be amazing. Just the break we need to recharge. And like I said, my treat.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. I’ll pay for everything.”
“Wow!”
“Are you in?”
“Hell yes.”
Rosie picked up her phone at that. I had her sold. It was a joy to watch her, excitement buzzing as she paced the room, chatting away to Lola. Excitement that turned into sadness when she hung up.
“Peter says they’d rather pay their own way, but he needs a couple of months to save up.”
Ah, the pride of man. I should have known that would be the case.
“Call Lola back. Let me speak to Peter.”
It took a while to convince Peter. I told him, with the utmost respect to anyone’s financial position, that I could easily pay for us all. One night in London was a drop in the ocean for me, that what mattered here was our good friendship, and love for our girls. They deserved a break and so did we.
“The cost is nothing, Peter. But the experience will be everything. We would be honoured if you would both come along.”
“You’re some bloke, you know that,” Peter said.
I laughed. “So Rosie keeps telling me. Do we have a deal?”
“I’d be dumb to say no, wouldn’t I?”
“Is that a yes?”
“I guess so. Thank you, mate.”
“No, Peter. Thank you. You’re very welcome.”
Rosie practically screamed when I hung up, leapt into my arms and squeezed the life out of me.
“You’re amazing,” she said.
I used my laptop to check out possible hotels and venues. Rosie looked through the listings with me, and she skirted past the obvious choice. A particularly stunning one in Chelsea with its own courtyard, grand windows and a whole host of facilities.
“How about that one?” I said. “It’s by the far the best we’ve seen.”
“No way,” she said when she saw the price tag. “That’s crazy nice. Too nice.”