by Carol Wyer
‘I see.’
‘He asked me out and I refused because it was to a ball and he took it the wrong way, thinking I was rejecting him.’
‘You obviously didn’t explain why you couldn’t go to the ball.’
‘I can’t bear being judged. I’ve been wondering if William didn’t initially get together with me because he saw my disorder as some sort of nut he could crack – a challenge. When he couldn’t, he gave up on me. It makes sense when you consider he tried to schmooze me today. He’s seen a glimmer of light. I’ve changed in the last few months and somehow become appealing to him once again.’
‘You know him best, Chloe. However, I think you ought to tell Alex. He’s an easy-going bloke. He’s quite different from William.’
‘I know and I would if he wasn’t leaving after the development is finished, but with things as they are it doesn’t seem worth the effort. It’s a big deal to explain about it and even if he understood and asked me out again – what would be the point?’
Sean shrugged. They were about to pull into the driveway when a Land Rover joined them from the other direction, Alex at the wheel. He lifted a hand in greeting and let Sean turn first. ‘Talk of the devil.’
Chloe couldn’t reply. A stone sat heavy in her chest as she realised how much she’d missed sharing the event with Alex.
Sean dropped Chloe off by her door and having refused the offer of a drink because he had a meeting with his ex-wife to discuss Suzy and various other arrangements, he beetled off. Chloe clumped back home to an exuberant dog and after rubbing his stomach for a few minutes decided she’d open a bottle of wine. She deserved a glass. Today she’d made a stand and tomorrow – well, who knew what tomorrow would now bring?
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Monday, 12th March
‘It’s cracking off at last!’ Eleanor’s lips were pulled back so widely Chloe feared her mouth would split open. She waved the local newspaper in her hand as explanation. Chloe twigged quickly.
‘One of the journalists who was at the archery day has written about it.’
Eleanor bounced lightly from one foot to the other. ‘And we’re being featured in the Staffordshire Life Magazine next month and I’ve been invited to BBC Stoke Radio for an interview based on this article.’
Chloe scanned the positive piece of journalism. It appeared the free event had worked. They’d enjoyed the originality of the activity and the effusiveness of the hosts. She passed the paper back to Eleanor. ‘I’m really pleased for you.’
Eleanor’s eyes sparkled back. ‘But there’s even more. An ITV news programme want to come along to our next activity and broadcast it. This is going to swing it for us, Chloe. It’s the luck we needed. Imagine being able to say “as featured on ITV”? We’re going to get out of this hole we’ve been in and make the business succeed. Fairfax is over the moon. He’s going to add all our media items to the website and… oh, thank you. Your idea was pure genius!’ She threw her arms around her neighbour, dousing her in the lemony scent of her perfume.
‘I can’t tell you how grateful I am. Danielle has said she can’t pay any more subscriptions and it’s on the cards Sean and Jacqueline will leave. It’s only a matter of time, and William…’
‘I’m sorry if he doesn’t come again on account of me.’
‘Don’t worry. If everything goes to plan, we really will have new members queueing up to join our club. Now, you will come on Saturday, won’t you? It’s going to be the best event yet and I need you there. I don’t want it to be a flop with four or five people there and Fairfax can’t stand in because he and I will be interviewed.’ She tugged at the shawl wrapped around her shoulders. ‘And, it was your idea so you deserve to be on camera.’
Chloe flinched at the thought. A camera filming her every reaction and then beaming it into everyone’s sitting room was one step she couldn’t make.
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Don’t be silly. I already checked with Alex and told him you were coming and he definitely is going to be there so there’s no pulling out.’ Chloe’s eyes widened at the news. Was Alex going to give her a second chance? He’d said he’d only attended the events to spend time with her. Eleanor was still talking. ‘Everyone’s a little camera shy, Chloe, you’ll get over it.’
‘No, it’s worse than that…’ Chloe began. Eleanor’s mobile played its familiar tune and she looked at the screen.
‘Number withheld. Maybe it’s another journalist,’ she squeaked. She tapped the accept button. Her eyes grew wide and she mouthed ‘New member’, before scampering off towards the back door, mobile tucked under her chin as she put on her boots and raced off to her own house.
‘What am I going to do, Ronnie? I can’t face television. I’ll make an idiot of myself.’ Ronnie stared mournfully at the shut door. Eleanor hadn’t had time to pat him goodbye.
* * *
Faith was out of the office and not answering her mobile so Chloe rang the only other person able to offer her advice.
‘I can’t do it, Sean. I’ve just actually thrown up at the thought.’
‘Tell me why you can’t do it.’
‘Because I’ll make a fool of myself.’
‘How will you do that?’
‘Any number of ways: I’ll clam up if anyone asks me a question; I’ll blush and forget what I’m supposed to be doing; I’ll suddenly begin shaking like crazy, or be sick over a cameraman. I have literally no control over my body.’
‘I’m going to come over tonight with Suzy and we’re going to make an Instagram video of you. I’ll give you a simple task to perform in front of the camera and you’ll do it.’
‘What?’
‘Yes. And we’re going to post whatever you do and say online and millions of people will have access to it.’
‘Have you gone mad?’
‘Some may disagree but no, I’m not mad. I’ve been looking at some of the new treatments that are available for people with your disorder and making the subjects face their fear is one of them. As far as I can tell, you’ve been doing that consciously or unconsciously. Each event you’ve attended has made you a little stronger. You may not be aware of it but you’ve been giving yourself therapy. You’ve been videoed before. We were all on the Haka video.’
‘That was different. It wasn’t national television.’
‘Poppycock. Television, videos – it’s all the same. We’re going to give my way a go.’
She began to protest then stopped; Sean had a point. Since being forced into the club she had faced some huge challenges and passed them. She hadn’t let herself down in any way. ‘Ok-ay,’ she said stretching the response to two syllables. ‘We’ll try it.’
‘Good girl. I’ll send you a link to the therapy I’ve been reading about. I wish my mom had tried it.’
* * *
The treatment seemed to be similar to one she’d seen mentioned in the forum, and bringing up the original thread, she asked about its effectiveness and was instantly bombarded with praise for it. It could be worth a go. If she could face a camera crew and appear on television she’d be able to conquer many of her fears.
It was true she’d already worn a giant Sumo suit and wrestled with the others, performed a Haka and got an unruly flock of ducks into a pen without much fuss and not frozen or been sick or had a wobbly. There was hope for her. She might just be able to face the prospect of having her round face shown on national television. Her stomach flipped at the thought and she bolted for the bathroom. As she knelt over the toilet pan she hoped Sean was right.
* * *
‘Hi Chloe! Ooh, isn’t your dog lovely?’ Suzy’s pale face beamed as she bent to stroke an over-excited Ronnie.
‘Good to see you again. That’s Ronnie. How come you’re at your dad’s today?’
‘I’ve got extra time with him until we leave for France. We’re going at the end of this term, sometime in April, so I’ll start the summer term at my new school in France which will help m
e get settled. It means I get an extra night with Dad as well as the usual Wednesday, and every other Saturday night and Sunday.’
Sean put a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. ‘And Suzy’s looking forward to helping you with your project.’
Suzy’s face broke into a smile. ‘I think it’s hilarious.’
‘Do you?’ Chloe kept the smile on her face as she led them into the kitchen.
‘What project?’ she hissed.
Sean winked.
‘Okay. Where do you want to do it? Here in the kitchen?’
‘Yes,’ Chloe replied.
‘Dad said you wouldn’t know what to twerk to. I’ve got some great music on Spotify.’ She held out her phone.
‘You have got a speaker, haven’t you?’ Sean asked.
Chloe pointed at the black Bose system dumbly. Suzy was too busy connecting her phone to the system to notice Chloe’s discomfort. When she was ready, she put the mobile down on the kitchen top then taking up a position, hands on hips said, ‘It’s dead easy, look, I’ll show you.’
Wiggling her hips and backside like a professional dancer she twerked up and down. When she stood up again, Sean applauded.
‘Come on, Chloe. Copy me.’
Suzy’s enthusiasm took the edge off her nerves and she had a go. It took some practice but eventually she could manage to twerk in time to the music. Sean joined them and soon they were all guffawing loudly.
Sean picked up his mobile and waved it in their direction. ‘Okay, ladies, that’s enough making fun of the old guy. Let’s do this.’ Suzy adjusted her top, pushed away a strand of hair and faced Chloe who remained glued to the spot.
‘Imagine I’m not here,’ said Sean.
‘As if,’ said Suzy with a snigger. ‘You’re six foot one. Nobody can miss you.’
‘Pretend. Come on, Chloe, if this is no good I won’t upload it.’
‘Come on, Chloe. It’s only like taking a selfie. I do this all the time. You pretend you’re dancing in front of a mirror.’
Chloe tried hard to imagine herself in front of a mirror but that made matters worse so she imagined Laila instead. You’re braver than you think. Suzy skipped across to her own phone, set up the track again and returned quickly. The music began and Suzy started her off. She shut her eyes briefly. Laila is twerking at a nightclub, her skin-tight jeans revealing her muscled thighs and well-rounded backside. All eyes are on her as she throws back her head and gives it her all. Chloe shook her booty for all she was worth, imagining the hot steamy nightclub and the man who only had eyes for Laila – a dark-haired man with shining brown eyes, who oozes masculinity: Alex.
* * *
‘I don’t look as frightful as I imagined.’
‘I’d say you look hot,’ said Sean.
‘Dad!’
‘Well, she does. Look at that pout, and I like the dramatic tossing of the hair like a supermodel. I think we have a winning video right here. This is going straight up on Instagram with lots of hashtags.’
‘No, don’t. People will see it.’
‘Surely that’s the point? Why else do it? You want people to watch you. Especially if you look hot,’ said Suzy.
‘Spot on, baby girl,’ said Sean. He fist-bumped his daughter who giggled.
He fiddled with his phone and waited for a while then held the screen up. The video was being processed. It was too late. The clip would soon appear and everyone could watch Chloe twerking. It was strange but she didn’t feel too ill. Suzy’s bright face made the whole experience easier even though she didn’t actually appear in the video. Sean had ensured his daughter was out of shot. ‘Right, with the filming in the can I think we all deserve fish and chips. Chloe, do you fancy some? There’s a van in the village. I’ll get them from that.
Chloe realised she was hungry. ‘I’ll get the plates ready.’
Suzy offered to help set the table and play with Ronnie.
‘Okay. I’ll leave you two starlets here and get the grub. Ronnie, would you like cod or a sausage?’ Sean called on his way out.
* * *
Some of the comments were good and a few a little hurtful. One person had criticised Chloe’s backside and another claimed she looked like she was trying out for a porn movie. Sean scoffed at those more critical comments.
‘There are always people willing to put you down. It happens. You have to grow a thick skin. The main thing is most people thought it was good. Look at all the likes the video got. More importantly still, you did it. You performed a ridiculous dance online and you’re still here in one piece, the same old Chloe. Nobody has thought badly of you. And everything, online, on television, or in newspapers gets forgotten so quickly, it doesn’t matter anyway. I’m going to delete the video now. It’s served its purpose.’
Chloe ended the phone call with thanks for his help. She had to admit she felt marginally better about the event that coming Saturday. Now she just had to hang onto that confidence.
Faith’s Skype icon flashed on the screen. She couldn’t wait to speak.
‘I’ve just seen a video of somebody who looks remarkably like you, twerking in a kitchen. Please tell me it was you.’
‘It was.’
‘Oh-my-gosh! That is incredible and you weren’t half bad. Who filmed it?’
‘Sean, and his daughter, Suzy, taught me how to twerk.’
‘A-ha, the marvellous Canadian is behind the video.’
‘We’re being filmed on Saturday and he’s trying to prepare me for it.’
Faith’s features rearranged themselves into something resembling Edvard Munch’s painting, The Scream, with hands clasped either side of her face and mouth agape. ‘Filmed?’
‘ITV news.’
‘Is that really Chloe Piper I’m talking to or has an alien taken over her body? First you slap that tosser of an ex-husband across the face and now you tell me you’re going to appear on telly. Come out, Chloe! I know you’re buried in there somewhere. Come out!’
Chloe beamed happily. ‘Bonkers, isn’t it?’
‘Bonkers certainly describes it. Well, how’s this all come about?’
Chloe explained.
‘I agree with Sean. You’re only going to an event like you usually do. There’ll be a cameraman and a presenter but they’ll be filming everyone. The camera won’t be focusing on you so just enjoy whatever you’re all up to as usual, as you always do.’
‘How come you saw the video? It wasn’t up for long.’
‘I have Google alerts set for all my authors, with real and pen names, so if anything comes up I check it out. It was a surprise to see your name crop up. Usually it’s book reviews for C J Knight not Chloe Piper that come through. You’re doing so well, Chloe.’
Chloe fiddled with a pen and said pensively. ‘You know, I think I am too.’
‘Then go to the event, enjoy being with everyone and don’t dwell on it any longer. How’s that book going?’
‘Good. I’ve only a few chapters left to write then the first draft will be complete.’
Faith applauded. ‘See, writing mojo is restored and a brave new Chloe is facing her demons. I’m proud of you, hun. I’m looking forward to reading it.’
‘How’s Greg?’
‘Pretty damn amazing. He booked a private pod on the London Eye and had it set up with canapés and champagne. We watched the sun setting and talked. We talked a lot.’
‘It’s getting serious then?’
Faith blushed. A rare occurrence. ‘I think we can say it is.’
‘Then you’ll have to come up with him when you’re both free. I’ll make sure the honeymoon suite is available,’ Chloe joked.
‘We’ll do that. He’ll love it there. He keeps saying we need to escape the grimy city for a weekend and ingest some fresh air.’
‘The offer is there for whenever you want to take it up.’
‘It’s a date.’
* * *
Faith had to get back to work and as soon as she disappeared from view, Chloe
settled down to finish her novel. The last few chapters were always the ones she found the hardest. Not because they were difficult to write, but because she was coming to the end and would have to part from all the characters in her head. She’d grown fond of them all, especially the daring Laila. She had two endings for this character in mind – one predictably happy, the other traumatic and thought-provoking. Which one should she go for? If it were real life it would be the latter because, although there were moments of happiness and joy in life, things didn’t always go as expected or hoped. She thought of Alex and what might have been and began typing.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Saturday, 17th March
The rising sun brought to mind a fried egg yolk, its radiance breaking over the landscape like uncooked white. Chloe stood in a nightshirt and slippers by the window and tearing her gaze from the sky, marvelled at the faint green patches forming on ochre soil that would eventually turn into grassy fields.
She drained the glass of water, the third she’d drunk since she’d risen in the early hours, and rinsed it out. In spite of the video and her friends’ assurances, she’d been violently sick in the night and afterwards spent an hour shaking under her bed covers, body slick with sweat as if suffering from flu, until she’d abandoned all hope of sleep and padded downstairs to her office where her computer had offered her comfort.
Daylight had lessened the anxiety. Either that or she was too tired with no energy left to feel ill at ease. She would have to tell Eleanor she couldn’t attend the event today. Ronnie’s wet nose on the back of her bare calf made her start. He gave a beseeching look.
‘You want to go out? Come on then. A walk will do us both good.’
Dressed in a brand-new sports vest, zip-up jacket, leggings and trainers and with an eager dog by her side she paused outside. A distant hammering indicated work had started on the fifth and final barn – a reminder that soon she’d have to get used to new neighbours and say goodbye to one she’d grown used to in a short space of time. She set up the Fitbit she’d also purchased online. She’d been surprised to discover she’d lost almost two stone since her arrival at Meadow Farm. Not only had she bought fitness gear to go running with Ronnie, she’d bought other clothing online to wear to events, and now her wardrobe was looking quite up-to-date. Even if she didn’t attend the singles group any more, she could wear them to work at the bookshop.
