He Will Be Mine: The brand new laugh out loud page turner!

by Kirsty Greenwood

  ‘You actually met him!’ Imogene asks. ‘What?’

  ‘He actually just left, right before you got here!’ I tell her.

  Imogene sits up straighter in her seat and instinctively pats down her hair as if Gary could return at any moment and she needs to look her best for him.

  ‘He injured himself on the beach.’ I explain. ‘I helped him. I rescued him and bandaged his arm. I know I was wrong about him being my cosmic partner, but he did keep looking at my boobs. That… might be something?’

  ‘No!’ Kennedy and Imogene shout at the same time. ‘It’s not.’

  ‘Of course he was looking at your boobs,’ Imogene adds. ‘They’re massive.’

  Kennedy frowns. ‘You know,’ she says thoughtfully. ‘I really believed I was being an amazing matchmaker with you and Brandon… I usually get romantic relationships so spot on.’ She looks genuinely peeved.

  I go over and give her a hug. ‘Not this time, I’m afraid. Thank you for trying, though. You are the loveliest, sweetest person I’ve ever met.’

  Kennedy hugs me back as Brandon himself heads downstairs wearing nothing but a towel on his lower half. Does he strut around like this on purpose, to show off his crazy abs? Ugh.

  Imogene’s jaw drops. She looks at me as if to say ‘You are truly an idiot for turning that down.’

  Brandon picks Winklepuff up from where he’s jumping at his legs, eyes Imogene and scowls. ‘Oh great. Another one of you,’ he says before disappearing into the kitchen and clattering around loudly. ‘She’s not staying here too, Kennedy!’ he shouts back. ‘So don’t even ask.’

  Kennedy goes red. ‘Sorry,’ she says to Imogene. ‘He’s…’

  ‘A bit of a dickhead?’ Imogene cuts in, blunt as ever.

  Kennedy does a gloomy smile. ‘Maybe at the moment, yes. He’s going through a lot, you know? He has a good heart underneath it all.’

  Imogene stands up and rubs at her weary eyes. ‘Listen,’ she says to me, ‘I’m staying at the Chalk Sands B&B a mile down the road. Nora, why don’t you walk me there?’ She blows the air out from her cheeks.

  I frown at her. She looks super frazzled and unlike her usually pristine self. But then I guess she has just been on a flight for eleven hours so she can save her wayward sister from herself.

  ‘I’m so jet-lagged I can’t think straight until I’ve gotten some sleep,’ she continues. ‘It’s beyond time for you to get back home, so I’ve booked us flights back for tomorrow night. You might want to start packing your things. I’ll just use the loo before we go…’

  Kennedy’s mouth drops open as she points Imogene in the direction of the downstairs bathroom.

  ‘She’s a bit of a grump too,’ Kennedy huffs and then presses a finger to her chin. ‘Oooh, maybe I should set her up with Brandon…’

  ‘Kennedy! She’s married!’ I elbow her, unable to help the laugh that escapes me.

  I stop giggling and sigh at the thought of going back to Brigglesford. I know that Imogene is right. It is beyond time for me to go home, get back to real life, start to do the things I promised Imogene I’d do if this whole experiment didn’t work out. But knowing this doesn’t stop the swirling ache of longing that, despite my new, practical knowledge of the situation, hasn’t left my heart. Not one tiny bit.

  I walk Imogene back to the hotel and, along the way she barely notices the beautiful scenery. Instead she tuts and sighs and just generally acts down in the dumps. I ask her if she’s okay and she tells me she’s just tired, that she had a fight with Dan before she left because he didn’t want to look after Ariana alone for a couple of days. I apologise to her for causing all this bloody trouble. I want to make her feel better, so I tell her how keen I am to start grief therapy – which isn’t exactly a lie – and that I’ll even go on a date with Roger Pepper – which kind of is a lie.

  Imogene laughs and tells me that she will allow me to choose my own romantic partners from now on, as long as they live within a five-mile radius from where I live and are not famous or engaged to be married. When we reach her B&B, she faces me and puts her hands on my shoulders.

  ‘I’ve missed you,’ she says.

  ‘I’ve missed you too.’

  ‘No, I mean… you’re back. I’ve not seen you this animated since before Mum and Dad… And if this escapade has made that happen, then I did the right thing telling you to come here. I know you’re hurting. I can see it… but I’m proud of you.’

  A lump shuffles into my throat. ‘I wrote a song the other night.’

  Imogene smiles widely, her eyes shining with unshed tears. ‘I hope it’s better than that moon on a lake crap Mum was always singing.’ The pair of us burst out laughing and I think of how nice it is to have my sister here. If we’ve only got one day left in the City of Angels, we need to make the most of it.

  After making plans for Imogene, Kennedy and I to have dinner out later on so that Imogene can experience a little of this amazing place before we leave, I amble along the bustling beach back to Kennedy’s, trying my best to imprint the salty, suncream-y smells, the happy, energetic sounds and the hazy, colourful sights onto my brain.

  I spend the rest of the day walking Winklepuff about and treating him to Santa Monica’s finest Parma ham as promised, finishing off the swim I missed this morning, writing some rough lyrics to a new song idea that I can’t get out of my head and steadfastly avoiding Brandon. Bit by bit, I take down the Creepy As Fuck Soulmate Procurement Wall and stuff the papers and pictures into the paper recycling bin. As I pull the poster of Gary off the wall, I try not to notice how the photograph doesn’t even begin to capture the magnificence of him in real life. I’m tearing up the poster when I hear a squeal from the living room. Kennedy is shouting, ‘Oh my god, oh my god!’ over and over again.

  I yank open the curtain, tripping over my suitcase as I do, and fall into the living room.

  ‘WHAT IS IT? WHAT’S WRONG?’ I yell, panicked.

  But from the look on Kennedy’s face, nothing is wrong. She is smiling, her perfect white teeth on full display. She points down to her phone. ‘I fucking got it,’ she says. ‘I got the junior anchor position!’

  ‘Oh my god, oh my god!’ I echo. ‘That is incredible!’

  I grab her hands and the pair of us start to dance around the living room. Winklepuff jumps about too, barking frantically.

  Kennedy laughs. ‘My mom is going to be so excited! This is all she’s ever wanted for me!’

  ‘She’s going to be super happy,’ I agree. ‘And this is all you’ve ever wanted for yourself, right?’

  Kennedy nods, her eyes wide. ‘Oh yes. Definitely!’ Her smile falters the teeniest tiniest amount before beaming back up to full wattage. ‘I’m going to go and call my mom. I should probably call Erin too. I bet she’s way bummed out.’

  ‘She’ll be fine,’ I say, feeling pretty sure that Erin is the sort of person who will somehow always land on her feet.

  Kennedy twirls around, her arms in the air. ‘Call your grumpy sister. That quiet dinner we were gonna have has been upgraded! We’re celebrating!’

  I’m not sure Imogene will be too pleased about that and I’m feeling both physically and emotionally exhausted. But Kennedy has achieved something amazing and she deserves to have an incredible night.

  ‘We are fucking celebrating!’ I call back.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Nora

  Once she’d had a nap, Imogene was much more receptive to the idea of a proper night out than I expected and turned up at Kennedy’s house with her hair fully set into huge rollers, wearing a T-shirt and jeans because, of course, she didn’t bring anything fancy with her as ‘she was only coming to drag my arse back to Brigglesford’.

  Kennedy, who is around the same size as Imogene, has lent her a gorgeous silver dress and a pair of gold strappy heels. And so, to a soundtrack of Kennedy’s favourite early 90s pop, we get ready to go out.

  While I comb out Imogene’s hair, Kennedy keeps checking her phone.
‘Erin still hasn’t answered,’ she says worriedly. ‘I hope she’s okay…’

  ‘Honestly, I bet she’ll be fine,’ I reassure her, getting up to pour her another glass of white wine from the bottle we’ve opened. ‘Like you said, she’s probably just bummed out she didn’t get the job. She was pretty confident she would…’

  Kennedy nods thoughtfully, shakes her shoulders and takes a deep decisive breath. ‘You’re right.’ She puts her phone back in her pocket and takes another sip of wine. ‘I’m so excited for us to go out! One more round of Joy Ahoy before you leave.’

  ‘Where are we actually going?’ I ask.

  ‘It’s a surprise.’

  I twist my lips. ‘The last time you surprised me I ended up almost breaking my neck on rollerblades.’

  ‘You went rollerblading?!’ Imogene laughs out loud. She assesses Kennedy through narrowed eyes. ‘You’re good. I could barely even get her to leave the house back in Brigglesford. Rollerblading. Wow.’

  Kennedy shrugs proudly. ‘All of my other friends are so uptight, so perfectly put together and Nora is…’

  ‘A complete mess?’ I finish, pulling a face.

  Kennedy comes over and lays her head on my shoulder. ‘I was going to say interesting. You’re really interesting. So it’s been fun getting you out of your head. My other friends might have their “shit together” on paper but… they’re… I don’t know. Not like me.’

  I think back to the night when we met up with Kennedy’s work colleagues at the bar. They looked like her, but they were a completely different sort of people to her. And she acted so oddly around them. All uptight and overtly intellectual, like she was trying hard to disguise her floaty, geeky vibe.

  ‘Maybe you should see if there are any other Angelenos in the Harcourt Royals groups?’ I suggest. ‘Meet some other people with shared interests other than journalism and stuff? Some other book geeks?’

  Kennedy nods and narrows her eyes. ‘Maybe I should… I do love that group of nerds…’

  ‘Oh hey,’ I say. ‘Did you realise that Crown Kissers is a euphemism for blow jobs?’

  Imogene sputters out her wine. ‘Crown Kissers? What the hell are Crown Kissers?’

  Kennedy bursts into laughter. ‘It’s the Harcourt Royals fandom name. And of course I knew it was a blow job euphemism! How did you not?’

  ‘I just didn’t think. That’s hilarious! I love CJ West. I wish she wasn’t so reclusive online. I’d love to meet her.’

  ‘Me too,’ Kennedy says wistfully. ‘She seems like the kind of woman who knows exactly who she is.’

  ‘We should email her and ask her to please please do some sort of meet and greet! How amazing would that be?’

  Before Kennedy can reply, Brandon stalks down the stairs again and into the kitchen, emerging a few seconds later with a bottle of beer and a scowl. He scoops Winklepuff off the sofa and heads back up the stairs without saying a word.

  ‘I take it your brother isn’t coming out with us?’ Imogene pulls a face.

  Kennedy shakes her head. ‘He’s been writing away in his room all day and I expect he’ll be there most of the night.’

  Brandon’s probably finishing the screenplay Kennedy said he was writing. Hmmm. I wonder if it’s the story of an introverted chubby English girl who had the audacity to reject a muscled, successful American writer/set designer. I feel guilty for a second about hurting him, before remembering that he took great pleasure in showing me those comments on YouTube. Ugh. I don’t want to think about Horrid Brandon. It’s my last night in LA. It’s Imogene’s only night in LA. And Kennedy’s big celebration. This has to be a night to remember.

  When the three of us have finished getting ready, we crowd in front of the full-length mirror in the downstairs bathroom and admire ourselves. We look awesome. Imogene’s now curled hair sits in a big 70’s-style halo around her head and with the silver dress she’s borrowed from Kennedy she looks like she belongs in Studio 54. I’m wearing Kennedy’s freshly washed white sparkly top again with my jeans, because it’s the only sort of dressy thing I can wear and the only thing of Kennedy’s that fits me. I’ve gathered my hair up into a ponytail on top of my head. My eyes need a major rest from the contacts, so I’m wearing my beloved glasses, the gold edges looking awesome next to the lovely orangey red gloss on my lips. Kennedy is wearing a red dress with a flared skirt that stops mid-thigh. Her hair is also tied up into a chignon and over her ear she’s wearing a little pink flower.

  We’re all three of us smiling. I look at these two women. One of whom I’ve known since I was born, the other who I met IRL less than two weeks ago. Both of them the closest friends I could ever hope to have. I may not be leaving LA with my soulmate tomorrow, but I will leave knowing that there is joy out there in the world for me. Joy that doesn’t come solely from living my life through movies and books and fantasies. I will leave knowing that I’m capable of so much more than I ever thought possible. That I might be hurt and wayward and struggling with grief and guilt, but I’m also brave and hopeful and open-hearted. And there’s more out there in the world for me. I know that now. I know it thanks to these two incredible women.

  I’m so lucky.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Nora

  All the nice things I thought about Kennedy and Imogene at the start of the night: I take it back. I take it all back. They are pains in my arse. The pair of them.

  While I’ve chosen to abstain from drinking on account of the eleven hour flight to get through tomorrow (and also because I don’t want to ever smudge the memory of how Gary may or may not have looked at me this morning), Imogene and Kennedy have decided upon what is known in Brigglesford as ‘A Mad Fucking Bender’. The two of them are knocking back margaritas and twirling each other around on the dance floor of this Culver City salsa club. I’m about as good at dancing as I am at rollerblading, so I stand by the bar and watch my sister and my new best friend making absolute tits of themselves.

  I laugh at Imogene as she does a sort of spinny motion hula, her cheeks red and her halo of hair now significantly flatter than it was two hours ago. It’s actually really lovely to see her kicking back and not giving a shit. Her life is so responsible, always go go go, always taking care of everyone. It strikes me that I’m not the only one who’s forgotten how to find joy since Mum and Dad died.

  Kennedy is actually pretty pissed. She’s now wiggling her bum in Imogene’s direction as the live band play a funky mambo number.

  The two of them spot me watching and chuckling, and drag me over to the dance floor to join in.

  ‘Nooooooooo!’ I protest. I surely have had enough humiliation to last a lifetime.

  ‘Come on, sis,’ Imogene yells over the music. ‘It feels so fun! I love to salsa!’

  ‘I love to salsa too!’ Kennedy cries happily.

  Their silliness is infectious and I start to move in time with the music, albeit a little stiffly.

  ‘You gotta loosen your ass!’ Kennedy giggles drunkenly, doing a little wiggle.

  ‘You mean my hips?’ I call back, laughing at her.

  ‘No! Your assssssss.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Imogene joins in. ‘Salsa is all about having a loose arse.’

  The pair of them point at me and chant at me to ‘Loosen my ass! Loosen my ass!’, very much enjoying winding me up.

  I try to do a more fluid motion and I close my eyes to get more into it. I think I might be doing an excellent job, but when I open my eyes again, they’re both laughing at me, Imogene taking a video on her phone.

  ‘Oi!’ I yell, laughing. ‘Stop that!’

  I feel a tap on my shoulder and when I spin around, I see the handsome face of the Adam-Levine-singing Lyft driver. He is wearing maroon-coloured leather pants and a tight white T-shirt that shows off his jacked muscles. His hair is slicked back off his face with sweat and he is wiggling his narrow waist from side to side. ‘My number one fan!’ he yells happily. ‘You are here! Your eyes are looking much better now! I
am very happy.’

  ‘Billy Fever!’ I call back, pulling him into a sweaty hug as if we are long lost friends rather than a taxi driver and his customer.

  ‘Actually, you are my number two fan now!’ he says. ‘My number one fan hired me to sing at his engagement garden party so that makes him my number one fan!’

  ‘Oh wow. Congratulations!’

  ‘I am here with my friends to celebrate! They are somewhere around. Would you like to dance with me in celebration of my big gig?’

  I shake my head, indicating my clear inability to salsa. ‘I can’t dance very well.’

  ‘When you are feeling unconfident do what I do and pretend you are Adam Levine – the most impressive and confident person in the world!’

  ‘Um, what?’

  Billy doesn’t answer my important question and instead takes me by the hand and starts spinning and twirling me this way and that. The way he holds my waist means that I don’t have to think too much about what I’m doing and I pretty quickly find myself falling into step with him. I start to laugh as he spins me around and dips me down. My whole body loosens, even my ass.

  I notice Imogene and Kennedy watching us, laughing out loud and clapping with glee. When the song is over, Billy Fever kisses my hand.

  ‘Wow,’ I say. ‘I didn’t know I could do that! Thank you!’

  Billy beams at me. ‘You cannot let the fear stop you from finding out what you can do! Fate loves the fearless!’

  ‘Wh-what did you just say?’

  I know it’s probably a well-known quote, but I’ve never heard anyone say it except for Mum and Dad.

  ‘Huh? It is so loud in here. I have to go find my friends!’ Billy says, pulling a handkerchief from his leather pants pocket and using it to dab at his forehead. ‘They will be missing me by now. Be ready for my next newsletter. It will be packed with bonus Adam Levine trivia!’