The Calendar Game (The Alpha Series Book 2)

by Andie M. Long

  I shake my head emphatically. 'No. Oh God. What will your mother think of me?'

  'She doesn't read tabloids or watch Daytime TV. She probably knows nothing about it.'

  'Okay. Well will you check before we go? I'd hate it if she didn't want me there.'

  He leans over and kisses my cheek. 'She will want to meet the woman I love.'

  I smile.

  'Right I'll go and get those magazines. You make your way into bed.'

  My phone rings. 'Hello.' I answer it, realising too late it could be the press. Fuck.

  'Is that Ms Huntington-Jones?'

  'Yes.' I answer in a reticent tone.

  'It's Barry from Clarington Estate Agents.'

  Oh my house, yippee.

  'Hi Barry.'

  'Good afternoon. I'm sorry Miss Huntington-Jones. I'm afraid I'm calling with some bad news.'

  'Pardon?'

  'The client has decided not to sell after all. He and his wife have reconciled and they're going to keep the marital home.'

  Emotion chokes my voice. 'Please. You can't do this.'

  'I'm so sorry. I know how disappointed you must feel. Would you like to schedule some appointments to look at further properties?'

  'No.' I screech. 'I fucking want that one. Christ this day sucks big fat hairy balls.'

  The phone goes dead. The next day’s papers will carry a story of my alleged hysterical psychiatric breakdown.

  Col walks in with the magazines and finds me rocking on the bed, tears flowing down my cheeks.

  'What on earth's the matter?'

  I tell him through racking great sobs. 'I just can't take much more right now.'

  'Look Ronnie. Let's move into the penthouse. Just for now. Get you on your feet and then we can look around together. Let's do it properly, pick a property for the two of us.'

  I stifle a sob and suck in my bottom lip. 'Okay.' I cuddle into him.

  'You sleep and I'll arrange for our stuff to be moved upstairs. Then you can spend the next couple of days ordering furnishings online. How does that sound?'

  Ordinarily that would sound like something as boring as hell that I'd leave my mother to sort, but I'm glad of anything to take my mind off my current woes.

  'Okay.' I nod.

  Col leaves me. I throw the magazines off the bed and pull the duvet over my head.

  Thursday 24 April 2014

  Well I knew money cleared a lot of obstacles from paths, but even I'm amazed at how fast my belongings are packed and moved into the penthouse. Just over twenty four hours later I have a new address. I want to contribute towards the bills, but Col says I need to wait until I've sorted out my finances and then we'll discuss it. He's working in the coffee shop and I'm ordering accessories to make this vast space seem like a home. It brings to mind my parents home and Sophie's house. I've never felt comfortable with lounges where you need to take a bus between pieces of furniture. The vast space annoys me, so I order some screens to partition the room into smaller spaces. Now the sofa will be near enough to the television that you might actually hear it.

  I look out of our bedroom window at the view of Thames. My apartment had doors that led out onto a balcony. Here we only have that option through the large lounge, and even then Col has put high safety railings around it. The windows in our bedroom only open a fraction for 'safety.' There's just one window, at the end of the hallway, that opens fully, and only because it leads to a fire exit. Other than that, it's like being trapped in a gilded cage. I feel like Rapunzel, waiting to be rescued. It comes to something when even the frightening thoughts of dinner with Col's parents are more attractive than being stuck here.

  I decide to phone Pheely as I haven't spoken to her since the night out.

  'I've been trying to call you,' she says.

  'I know. Sorry. I just didn't feel up to talking to anyone.'

  'No worries. I get it. Have you seen today's papers?'

  'No. Col has left some here, but I don't feel up to looking at them yet. Are they full of my sacking?'

  'Nope. I did you a little favour. Go pick up The Sun.'

  The front page has a picture of Pheely streaking at an Arsenal vs Liverpool football match that took place last night.

  The headline reads KOP A PHEELY. There's a blurred out bit where her boobs and pussy are.

  'What did you do?'

  'I streaked. Plus I dyed my minge assorted rainbow colours. I thought it'd take the heat away from your stories.'

  'I don't know what to say.' I really don't. Pheely is on the cover and page three. My own sacking is relegated to page seven.

  'I hope you don't mind, but LoveBug have been in touch about a range of tie in hair plaits. Like My Little Pony, but for pubes.'

  'No, that's fine. It was ending for me with them anyway.'

  'So are we going to have another night out, or are you put off for life?'

  'I'm lying low for a bit to be honest. I don't think I'm cut out for celebrity life.'

  'Oh that's a shame. I'd been invited to a store opening tonight in Essex. It's one of the TOWIE girls. It'll be a hoot.'

  'I appreciate you thinking of me. Thanks for the rescue.'

  'No problem at all. Take care, Ronnie.'

  I check out the other newspapers. I really am yesterday's fish and chip paper. There's a new girl in town, with a technicolour pussy coat.

  Saturday 26 April 2014

  Col's parents live in Mayfair. Their property rises so high into the sky I imagine Jack coming down it with his golden goose. Col tells me it has a Queen Anne facade and was built in the eighteenth century. I really couldn't give a shit, but I try and look interested.

  We’re led led through an entrance hall where my shoes clip clop on the black marbled flooring. A housekeeper takes my coat. I wasn't sure what to wear so I stuck to navy Chloe trousers and a Helmut Lang draped cotton white top. I see I have it completely wrong when Col's father greets us wearing a dinner jacket. 'Good to see you again, Ronnie,' he says fondly. He places a hand at the small of my back. 'Follow me dear.'

  We’re taken into a dark drawing room with wooden shutters at the windows. The furniture is a heavy mahogany. I imagine the partaking of cigars in this room. A very slim woman with bobbed blonde hair gets up from a burgundy chaise longue. Col's father addresses her. 'Charlotte. Come meet our guest.'

  'You must be Veronica,' she says, tilting her head to the side as her gaze peruses me.

  'Yes, but please, call me Ronnie.' I smile.

  She doesn't smile back. 'Well Veronica, I look forward to getting to know you better.’ Then she dismisses me and greets Col, ‘Hello darling. It’s lovely to see you,’ she kisses his cheek, ‘and how nice of you to bring Veronica. I wish you’d have dressed properly for dinner though. It’s respectful to do so.’ She starts to walk towards the doorway. 'Shall we go take our seats?'

  Lost for words for once in my life, I follow everyone into the dining room—another dark and dreary space, with flock wallpaper. I'm surprised there isn't an animal’s head mounted to the wall. There's a fire burning and of course I'm seated right next to it. My clothes will probably ignite.

  'So, Veronica. Before you leave tonight, let me give you the number of my Personal Shopper at Harrods.’

  I smile sweetly back. ‘Thank you, but I mainly shop online these days.’

  She puts several fingers over her mouth as if holding down vomit.‘Oh. Do you not find it a little vulgar shopping online? There’s no individual service.’

  'Mother.' Col smiles at her. 'Everyone shops online now.'

  'Which is why it's so common.'

  The man in the corner of the room fixing drinks turns around at this point, 'Don't mind my mother, Ronnie. She means well, but still thinks everyone we date should be a virginal debutante with their own Trust Fund.'

  Mother? I thought he was the butler.

  'Charles, please. The staff will get you a drink,' Charlotte says.

  'I am perfectly capable of performing simple tasks,'
he replies, though he does indeed take a seat at the side of me.

  'I will sit at the side of Veronica,' he imitates his mother's condescending voice, making her jaw tighten.

  'What are you doing here, Charlie?' asks Col, almost in a sulk.

  'Great to see you too, Col. I've been travelling around a while, so I thought I’d pop back and see everyone. Is that a crime now? I can see nothing's changed.

  They glare at each other for a moment.

  ‘I'm already beginning to question why I bothered.'

  'Charles,' says Charlotte. 'I will not have you speak like that, especially not in front of guests.'

  'Sorry Mother.' He turns to one side and whispers to me, 'Get out while you can.'

  Charles' only similarities to Col are they both have brown hair. Other than that you can tell that Col takes after his mother with his slight build. He has her bone structure. Charlie is a sturdier build. I'd describe him as rugged. He has a dark beard and moustache. I've never found facial hair attractive before, but it suits him. I can't tell if his eyes are blue or grey. They look somewhere in between.

  As dinner is served, I ask him where he has been travelling.

  'I've been in Australia and Thailand for the last couple of months.' He carries on telling me all about his travels. It would appear their grandfather left them some money when he died, and whereas Col invested in property, Charles took himself off to explore the world.

  'So are you intending to join the business now?' asks Col.

  'No.' Charles shakes his head. 'How many times do I have to say this? I have no need to work. I have enough money for my needs.' He turns to me. 'I invested Grandpa's money and have so far lived quite happily off the interest.'

  'It’s meant to be a family business,' says Col.

  'Col, son. It's not Charlie's thing,' says their father. 'Leave it. We make a great team, you and me. If in the future you change your mind and want to be part of things, Charlie, you only have to say.'

  'I really would rather you settled down, raised a family and joined the business, Charles,' says his mother.

  Charlie sighs, 'Can I just eat a meal with my family without having this same old argument? Let's make an effort—for Ronnie.'

  'Quite,' says Charlotte. 'So, Colin, dear. Why has it taken you so long to introduce us to Veronica? Your father says you've been dating for over a year. I hadn't realised it was so serious.'

  Col looks at me. I get the impression he's not about to confess to playing the pauper.

  'I just wanted to be sure,' he holds my hand across the table. 'Ronnie and I have just moved in together.'

  'Really?' says Charlie. 'Where to?'

  'The penthouse suite at the top of the Riverside complex,' Col says in a rather smug tone.

  Thomas speaks up. 'Fabulous property. Prices can only rise around there with all those developments going on. Fantastic. Glad you saw sense over that other property. No point in being away from the main business at this point, son. The fact that the owner resides on site increases value, in both kudos and price. Demonstrates the apartments must be luxury, or you wouldn't live there yourself.'

  'Exactly what I thought, Father.' says Col, giving me a blank stare.

  I seem to have entered the land of the Col Robot. A machine designed to please both Father and Mother. I've lost my appetite and excuse myself to visit the ladies.

  'I'll show you the way.' says Charlie.

  He walks with me towards the downstairs bathroom. 'I can imagine my parents must be quite a shock to you.'

  'I like your father. I admit your mother unnerves me.'

  'She's distantly related to a royal. Grew up with a rubied rattle. Only a woman of stock will do. She’ll do her best to get you out of Col's life.'

  'Charming.' I say as we reach the bathroom. 'Well thanks. I can find my own way back.'

  'It was nice to meet you Ronnie,' he says, and picks up a bag from the hallway.

  'Where are you going?'

  'I'm off. I can't stay here with these people. They drive me insane. Say bye for me.'

  He walks out of the door.

  I stand for a moment in the hallway, gazing at the closed door before I enter the bathroom.

  When I return I wonder how the news of his departure will go. I stand and swallow.

  'He's gone hasn't he?' Charlotte asks me. I see a hint of vulnerability peak from the Ice Queen exterior.

  'Yes.' I nod my head. 'He has.'

  'He never stays more than twenty-four hours. I despair. No-one will ever pin him down. He's like a feather in the wind.'

  Thomas stands next to her and puts an arm around her shoulder. 'That's just who he is love. That's why it's good that Col is the exact opposite. Dependable, and he’s got his head screwed on right.'

  For a second, my feet want to follow Charlie's path out of the door. Instead I accept a portion of fruit salad and carry on fielding questions from Charlotte about my pedigree.

  We finally leave. I am so drained. I feel like I've been to an interview to get into Oxford or Cambridge. My future career as a Garden Designer was met with distaste, as if manure lurked directly under her nostrils. God only knows how she would have acted if she'd known about my TV career and subsequent downfall.

  'Why do you let them speak to you like that?' I ask Col as I remove my jacket and leave it on the couch.

  Col picks it up and hangs it in the cloakroom.

  'I've learnt it's far easier to go along with everything they say. Then if I make alternate decisions, like when I took on the coffee shop, they're less likely to give me grief. Anyway, as you've seen tonight, I'm the golden child. Charlie drives them mad. They never know what he's up to.'

  'Is he a womaniser?'

  'I've seen him with a few women, but he's not a Harry Taylor.'

  I wince at his words.

  'Charlie just doesn't want to stay in one place. We were boarded when we were younger. I think it almost drove him insane.'

  'You're so different from one another,' I say.

  Col comes up and puts his arms around me. I smell the Viktor and Rolf aftershave on his neck.

  'Are you coming to bed?' I ask him.

  'In a short while. I need to check my emails. Why don't you fix us a drink and come and sit with me?'

  I do so. I'm all curled up on the sofa when I see Col's face furrow. 'What the hell?'

  'What?'

  He beckons me over to look at his screen. It's the selfie of Harry.

  'Yeah? What am I looking at?'

  'Why don't you stop leering over Harry and focus on what's behind him.' He points on the screen. On the bed behind Harry is the clothing I removed before I got in the shower.

  'Would you like to explain why your clothes are on the bed behind this naked male?' he asks.

  He won't listen, despite my screaming at him that Harry was only bare chested and getting me a towel. Instead, he picks up his laptop, gives me the evil eye and storms off into the spare room, banging the door shut.

  Fuck my life.

  Wednesday 30 April 2014

  Col barely speaks to me over the following days. I contemplate moving into a hotel, or back into my apartment, but I've only just moved in here. I'm sure it will blow over, but as Col keeps going out on business, I get more and more lonely.

  I remember what Harry said about working on his garden anytime I felt I needed to get away. I pick up the keys he gave me and make my way there. It's just what I need—a chance to mull everything over.

  I let myself in and make my way through to the back. I hear a female voice laughing and realise I've fucked up, he's got company. This is a first for Harry, his kiss and tells are always saying they never sleep over.

  'I can't believe how perfect it's worked out. Thank you Sue,' I pause as I recognise Pheely's voice coming from the patio.

  'I told you love. Stick with me. I know how this machine works. I've worked with Harry since he started in football. Haven't I son?' says a booming East London voice who I take to be
Sue.

  'That you have,' says Harry. 'I do feel bad about what we did though.'

  'That's the way of the world son. Dog eat dog. There was no way Ronnie was going to become half of a celebrity couple with you. Too loved up with that businessman. Pheely makes a perfect girlfriend. That streak was a genius idea. Wish I'd thought of it myself.'

  'Well I figured it would take the attention off Ronnie, and so it did. Puts it all on me.' Pheely squeals. 'Do you think I could take over her slot on Happy Morning too?'

  'Not a chance. They're putting one of the ex-Loose Women on instead. Only bimbo on that show will be Molly from now on.'

  I want to shout that Molly is no bimbo, but seeing as I'm hiding and eavesdropping I keep my mouth firmly shut.

  'So what now?' asks Harry. 'We're done with Ronnie, right?'

  'Other than the gardening, yes. Once your garden features in OK we'll get rid. I've already cleared it with them that Ronnie won't be part of the shoot. They don't want her involved unless her market value goes back up, so we'll see how that goes.'

  Pheely puts on an extra girly voice. 'Is your arm still hurting from throwing her in the bush?'

  'A bit. Worth it though. Those pictures were spot on.'

  'Absolutely.' says Sue. 'Your lothario status went up again and got us those magazine covers for next week. Now though, I want you two to focus on being seen out together. Looking loved up. We're going to let the world think Harry Taylor has finally been tamed by the love of a good woman. I can guarantee Pheely, there'll be photo shoots and probably an invitation onto I'm a Celebrity or Big Brother.

  If I hear any more I'm going to force feed them some garden insects myself.

  Shaking and feeling nauseous, I retreat from the house without being heard. However instead of feeling upset and hurt, I'm angry. People are treating me like shit and I'm not standing for it.

  I walk back down the driveway and dial a number into my phone.

  'Ronnie.' My best friend's voice comes down the line. 'So pleased you called. I need your advice on this bloody wedding.'

  'Can I come and give it in person?' I ask.

  I head back to Riverside and start packing my case. I book a flight for later that evening. I need to get out of here. I can't take any more. I hope that time with Stella will help me, putting some space between myself and what’s been happening lately. I worry that Stella will be too busy with her own responsibilities though. I can't overburden her with my crap.