The Truth About Gemma Grey: A feel-good, romantic comedy you won't be able to put down

by Sophie Ranald

  So I put my fears to one side. This wasn’t as hard to do as it sounds, especially as Olivia made a huge effort to be nice to me. And it wasn’t hard to like Olivia – everyone likes her. She’s got more friends on Facebook than anyone I know, and she actually stays in touch with them all, meets up with them and keeps up with what’s going on in their lives. She kind of adopted me – inviting me on nights out with her mates, until Shivvy and Nancy and the rest of them became my friends too, giving me a ready-made circle of friends at home in Norwich that made up for the fact that I’d been a shy, uncool no-mates at school. She sent me flowers on my birthday. Recently, she’d listened to me complain about the misery of job-hunting and reassured me that I was brilliant, that something would come along eventually, that it was all meant to be and part of the Universe’s grand plan for me (Olivia’s a yoga teacher. She often comes out with zen shit like that).

  But in spite of Olivia being my friend, I always knew she’d been Jack’s friend first. Even though I’d been Jack’s girlfriend for four years, I didn’t know whether his first loyalty would be to me or to her. It had never really mattered – it had never been tested. Not until now.

  I said, “So the two of you have been planning this together, and not said anything to me. You’ve done it all behind my back.”

  “Gemma, babe, please don’t be like this,” he said.

  “Be like what? Be like your girlfriend, who was planning a life with you, who’s found out you’ve had other plans all along?”

  “There isn’t an ‘all along’,” Jack said. “Please, Gemma, you have to understand. This has all been really recent. We only booked our tickets today. Liv only had the idea, like, last week. I mean, obviously I’ve been thinking for a while about stuff, about what I want to do, where I’m going…”

  “Who you’re going with,” I said.

  “Come on, Gemma,” Jack said. “You know, if I could choose anyone in the world to go travelling with, to have this adventure with, it would be you. But…”

  I said, “I could save up. They’re not paying me much at Clickfrenzy – it’s a starting salary – but if I stayed at home for a year and saved like mad, I could maybe take some time off, like a career break. I could go with you then.”

  As soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted them. I knew what I’d said wasn’t true. Not that I didn’t want to travel, and see the world, and do it with Jack – but not like that. My idea of exploring wasn’t remotely the same as his. He’d be quite happy sleeping in tents and in grotty youth hostels with filthy showers and maybe even bedbugs – evidently so would Olivia. But I wouldn’t. There’d be nowhere to have a hot bath. The food would be weird. I wouldn’t be able to make people who didn’t speak English understand me. I remembered going to Glastonbury with Jack a couple of years before, and how much I’d hated it, even though I hadn’t admitted as much to him and never would. This would be like Glastonbury, only with added foreign languages and probably even grimmer toilets, and it would go on for months and months.

  Jack reached across the table for my hand, but I moved it away.

  “I don’t want to wait,” he said. “We – I want to go now. It just feels right.”

  I could feel a huge surge of anger building up inside me. It wasn’t fair – he was selfishly, casually doing exactly what he wanted to do, with no thought for me, my dreams and ambitions, the future we’d talked about having together. I wanted to accuse him of that, to demand to know why he thought that diving in Thailand was more important than me. But the words wouldn’t come.

  Instead, I heard my voice say again, even more pathetically, “But what about us?”

  Jack said, “This isn’t about us, Gemma. This doesn’t mean anything about us. I love you. I’ll always love you. When I come back, we can move in together, like you wanted. I just need to do this now, for myself. And you could come out to New York for Christmas – we think that’s where we’ll be then, anyway. And in the meantime, you can really focus on your new job. You’re going to be so awesome at it.”

  As he spoke, he topped up our glasses with fizzy wine, then held his out towards me.

  “Come on, Gemma,” he said. “Let’s drink to the future. To us.”

  And I clinked my glass against his and echoed, “To us.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  When I woke up, for a few seconds things felt just the same as usual. I opened my eyes and saw Stanley, lying next to me on the pillow where he always was. Beyond his battered furry body, I could see the dent where Jack’s head had been, and I remembered that it was Saturday, and he always got up early on Saturdays to go to the gym. I saw greyish light making familiar patterns through the leaves of the lime tree outside my window. I could hear some eighties pop song blasting from the radio and Mum singing tunelessly along to it.

  Then reality hit me like a brick. Jack was going away. Jack and Olivia. I remembered all the promises he’d made to me the previous night as we finished the bottle of Prosecco and then over the dinner he bought us to celebrate my new job, and later when we lay together in my bed. I’d found it so easy to believe that they were true when he was there, but now that he wasn’t, doubt came rushing in to fill the space he’d left.

  Long-distance relationships could work – I knew that. Katie and her boyfriend Matt had stayed together all through university, with Katie in Newcastle and Matt in Exeter, snatching weekends together and seeing each other in the holidays (admittedly, it all went horribly wrong shortly after we graduated, when we went on a girls’ holiday to Ibiza and Katie shagged a barman. But still). Other people made it work too – of course they did, even though I couldn’t actually think of any right this second. Jack and I would make it work. He’d promised.

  But this was different. Jack and I wouldn’t be seeing each other regularly. We wouldn’t be able to have a routine of talking before we went to sleep every night, the way Katie and Matt had. I wouldn’t know where he was or what he was doing, or feel connected to his life because I knew first-hand what it was like. He’d be seeing new things, meeting new people all the time. He’d be exploring the world, and he’d forget about me.

  I remembered how I’d felt the previous morning, when my alarm clock had gone off and I’d known instantly that today was the day I was going for the interview at Clickfrenzy – full of excitement and apprehension and hope. I’d got what I wanted, but it didn’t feel that way. It didn’t feel like the beginning of my life as a grown-up – or if it did, I wanted nothing more than to be able to turn back the clock.

  I picked up my phone and plugged in the earbuds to drown out the sound of Mum’s singing, and went online to drown out my thoughts. I flicked through my Instagram feed, but I didn’t post anything. I checked my YouTube channel and saw that some of my two thousand followers had commented on my video, saying I looked great and wishing me luck for the job interview. I knew I should reply, letting them know how well it had gone and how excited I was about it all, but I just wasn’t feeling it.

  I pulled the duvet back up to my chin, cuddled Stanley to my chest and closed my eyes. All I wanted to do was go back to sleep, and stay asleep until it was time to get ready for my shift in the pub, but I couldn’t. There was a horrible taste in my mouth; the light was too bright. I needed to wee and I was hungry.

  So, reluctantly, I got up. I had a long shower and washed my hair, but I couldn’t be bothered to get dressed or put on any make-up (Some kind of beauty vlogger you are, Gemma Grey, I scolded myself). Instead, I put on fluffy slippers and my dressing gown and went into the kitchen.

  Mum was on the sofa with her feet up on the coffee table, reading Vogue. She was wearing grey suede leggings and a drapey purple top, and she’d changed her hair. It had been a sort of ashy blonde yesterday; now it was chestnut.

  I was used to seeing these overnight – or daytime, I suppose, strictly speaking, because they didn’t actually happen while she was asleep – transformations. Mum used to be a model – not a supermodel or anything like that. I’m
not going do a thing like, “You know Naomi Campbell? So, I’m her daughter.” I mean, I don’t think Naomi even has a daughter. But if she did, I’m not her. Anyway, Mum was an actual model, until she met my father and got pregnant with me, and then after Dad left she trained as a hairdresser, and now she manages her own salon. She’s won prizes and everything. The only thing she likes better than experimenting with new colours and styles on her own hair is experimenting with them on mine. It means that, however down I might feel about my appearance generally, my hair is always fabulous.

  I said, “Aren’t those my leggings?”

  Mum looked up. “Are they?” she said, ever so casually. “I must have put them in my wardrobe by mistake after I washed them. I could have sworn they were mine.”

  “Well, they aren’t,” I said. “They’re mine, and they’re dry clean only, so there’s no way they would have been in the wash. I bought them last week at TK Maxx, they were, like, the bargain of the century and I haven’t even worn them yet. So give them back.”

  “Oh, please, Gemma?” Mum said. “Can’t I borrow them just this once? I’ve got a date and literally nothing else to wear. We’re not even going for lunch, just a walk by the river and maybe a drink, so I won’t spill anything on them.”

  “You’re going for a walk by the river in those shoes?” I said, eyeing up her charcoal platform shoe-boots and making a mental note to borrow them at the earliest possible opportunity.

  “It won’t be far,” she said. “And he said he’s six foot two, so if he’s lying he deserves to have me tower over him.”

  “Is this another Guardian Soulmate?” I asked.

  “Match.com, this time,” Mum said. “They’re all a bit worthy on Guardian Soulmates. The last one I met was a vegan, as he told me within about five seconds of us meeting. So I was too embarrassed to order any food at the pub we went to, even though I was starving, and we just sat there crunching away on peanuts like Mr and Mrs Squirrel. He got one stuck in his teeth and the spark died, right then.”

  Reluctantly, I laughed. Mum’s online dating stories are always entertaining, although I suspect they’re often embellished for comic effect. She’s been single for as long as I can remember, apart from when Cameron moved in with us for a couple of years when I was a teenager. I’m pretty sure it was my epic strops that scared him off, but Mum didn’t seem too bothered when he left. It’s like she doesn’t mind being alone, but she does like meeting new people all the time. Weird as, right?

  I said, “Want a coffee?”

  Mum said, “No, I’m all… actually, yes, I’d love one. Thanks, angel.”

  I pushed the sleeves of my dressing gown back off my hands to fill the kettle. Even though it was a gorgeous, sunny day, I didn’t feel warm. I wanted to go back to bed.

  I made the coffee and took two mugs over to the sofa.

  Mum said, “Did you and Jack have a nice evening? I heard you come in, but I was already half asleep.”

  “It was all right,” I said. Then I sat down next to her and picked up my drink, clasping my hands around the mug with my dressing gown sleeves as insulation.

  “He must be pleased about your new job,” Mum said.

  I said, “Yes, I suppose he is. Because I suppose he thinks it’ll distract me from the fact that he’s fucking off overseas for a fucking year with fucking Olivia.”

  I heard Mum give a little gasp. I looked sideways at her and watched while she composed her face from surprise to careful neutrality.

  “That came a bit out of the blue, didn’t it?” she said.

  “I know, right?” I said dismally. “He told me last night. I was like, yay, new job, go me, and he was like, never mind that, see where I’m going.”

  Mum said, “Oh, Gemma. Does that mean the two of you are…”

  “No!” I said. “He’s going to come back, and then we’re going to find a place to live together and… I don’t know, settle down and stuff. That’s what he says, anyway. He means it, right?”

  I heard Mum take a deep breath and slowly let it out again, blowing on her coffee to cool it. I looked sideways at her again, but her face was still and unreadable.

  “I’m sure he does,” she said. “He loves you, Gemma. Anyone can see that. He’s a decent guy, and he treats you well, and I’ve always liked him very much. But…”

  “But what?”

  “A year is a long time when you’re twenty-four, Gemma. No, don’t look at me like that. I know you think I’m patronising you, but I don’t mean to. All I’m saying is, don’t put your life on hold for him, because you never know what’s waiting around the corner, for you or for him.”

  “What do you mean, don’t put my life on hold?” I said.

  “Just that,” said Mum. “I know you’ve been talking about finding a place to live in London with him. You’ve been desperate to get out of here. You keep saying how you need your own space. And you’re right – so do it on your own. Of course I love having you here, but commuting for four hours a day will get very old, very quickly. You’ll make new friends in your new job, expand your horizons… make the most of the time he’s away, instead of hanging about like some princess in an ivory tower. That’s what I mean.”

  Mum had put down her coffee. Her hands were sort of twitching in her lap, as if they couldn’t bear to be still. I’d noticed this before when she was thinking or giving advice – it’s almost as if she’s so used to doing it while cutting someone’s hair, her fingers take on a life of their own and want to be doing stuff to a head that isn’t there.

  I said, “But I don’t know if I want to do it on my own. It won’t be the same.”

  “Gemma!” Mum said. “Feel the fear and do it anyway! I’ll still be here. If whatever you do doesn’t work out, you can come home, like you did after uni. But you need to follow your dream – Jack’s following his, after all. Isn’t he?”

  “His and Olivia’s,” I said sourly.

  “Well, quite,” Mum said. “That girl… Anyway. You trust Jack, and that’s a good thing. If you want to make this relationship work long-distance, the best thing you can do is show him what he’s missing. You moping around, not changing, not moving forward, resenting him having this massive adventure – that’s not the most attractive image for him to have in his head when he thinks about you, is it?”

  “I guess not,” I said.

  “And that’s not what you’re like, anyway,” Mum said. “Look at you! You’re vibrant and brave and beautiful – even in that horrid rag of a bathrobe. Be those things without him, and then if – when – he comes home, you’ll be even better at being them with him.”

  “I guess,” I said.

  “And what’s more,” Mum said, “that thing of yours – that video thing you do – I guarantee you he’ll be watching that, because he cares about you and he’ll want to know what you’re up to. So let him see all the amazing things you’re doing without him. Show him what he’s missing. You catch more flies with honey than you do with vinegar, as my nan used to say.”

  “Maybe,” I said. But I could kind of see what she meant, and as I thought about it, sipping my coffee, it started to make more and more sense.

  “Christ, I’m going to be late for not-tall Tristan,” Mum said. “I won’t be gone long, but I expect you’ll be at work when I get in. Take care, little lemon drop. Don’t be sad.”

  She leaned over and gave me a kiss. Her hair swished over my face, still smelling of the chemical colour she’d put on it. It’s the most comforting smell I know.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Hi everyone!

  So, it’s Monday morning. Sadface! And it’s raining – boo! But today is a big day for me for two reasons. First, it’s my first day in my new job, which is why I am up, like, ridiculously early. I’ve got to get the train before seven o’clock, because it takes like two hours to get from Norwich to London. Ouch! I so need to find a new place to live. Anyway, the other thing that’s happening today is also exciting, but exciting in a sad way.
Jack’s leaving tonight to fly to Dubai, and then going on to the next stage of his adventure in Thailand in a few days.

  I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t gutted. I’m gutted. I’ve cried loads about it – we’ve both cried, actually. But you know what they say – if you love someone, set them free. So that’s what I’m doing. I’m going to go to the airport tonight after work and see him and the friend he’s travelling with off on the start of their massive adventure, and then I’m going to start counting down the days until he comes back to me.

  It’s going to be tough, but I’ve got to put on my big girl pants – not literally, don’t worry. I’m not working the Bridget Jones look today. My knickers are from Victoria’s Secret – I think they were in the haul that I shared with you last week. Thanks for all the likes you gave that one, and remember, tell me in the comments or tweet me and let me know what else you’d like to see more of on my channel – and if you like this video, give me a big thumbs up!

  Anyway. It’s Monday morning, like I said – I said that, didn’t I? – and I’m getting ready to go to work. It is chucking it down out there and it’s really windy, brrr! But at least that means I get to use my giant umbrella – check it out, how cool is that? It’s from this amazing shop on New Oxford Street that sells nothing but umbrellas – old school! Let’s see if I can open it and show you… Ooops. Maybe not. Sorry, light fitting! It’s meant to be bad luck opening an umbrella indoors, isn’t it? My bad. Or did I make that up?

  So as I was saying, wet weather and my hair are. Not. Friends. So on days like this, I normally try and nail frizz before it gets a chance to even start. A bit of serum through the lengths of my hair, then work a bit of curl cream through with your fingers, just kind of twisting each section a little bit to give it some texture and shape around my face, like so. Right.

  Oh my God, look at the time! I’ve got to be out of the door in like ten minutes tops. So, I’m going to do my make-up really fast. This look takes literally five minutes: foundation, which I apply with my fingers. If I had more time I’d use a brush, but, you know – Monday! Tiny bit of concealer under my eyes – I had a massive night on Saturday for Jack’s farewell, which I’ll tell you guys about later on, and I’m still looking reeeeally tired. When I’m in a hurry, I love products that do more than one job – like this, it’s a lip and cheek stain, so I can just dab a bit on the apples of my cheeks, dab a bit more on my lips, and voila – done. Quick bit of eyeshadow, just in the crease to contour my eyes. Eyeliner flick – God, I hate doing this when I’m in a rush. Please let me not mess it up – there. Phew. Mascara, bit of lip gloss, and I’m good to go.