'Are you being serious?'
'Yes. Go on. It will annoy Col. Twenty orders all at once when it looks so busy already…' I notice a definite crowd of women in the twenty to thirty female age range in the shop. 'You want to help me annoy him, don't you?'
Harry goes off and I pose for a few more pictures.
When I eventually walk into the coffee shop a hush descends on the place. Col nods at me. 'Ronnie.'
'Hello. Is it alright if I go into the apartment?'
'Sure. I'll go with you.'
'It's okay,' says Harry. 'I've come to help her carry her things.'
I turn and put a hand on his arm. 'Harry. Just wait here and I'll ring you on your mobile when I need you. Myself and Col need to talk.'
'Okay. But you ring me the minute you want me.'
I nod. I walk through the back of the coffee shop and we ascend in the lift.
'How've you been?' Col asks.
'I've been okay, thanks. I had a really nice time seeing Stella. It showed me how much I've missed her.'
'Ronnie. I-'
'Please don't say anything that's going to make me cry. This is hard enough. I thought you were The One you know.'
He nods his head sadly and I watch as he wipes a tear away.
'I was really fond of you,' he says. 'I did think, one day, maybe...'
'Well, it wasn't meant to be. Let's leave it at that shall we and not cause each other anymore sadness?'
'Can we be friends?'
'If I see you Col, then of course I'll be civil. But if you mean can we meet and go out for meals or something. I don't think so. I don't think I could cope with that.'
'Fair enough.'
There are a few packing boxes in the lounge.
'Your Dad dropped them off when he came to empty your flat.'
'Right.'
'Well. I guess I'll leave you to it?'
'Okay.'
'I'm sorry things turned out this way.'
'Me too.'
He walks over and holds me for a couple of minutes. Only a small time ago, these were the arms that made me feel the safest in the world. Now they are no longer mine.
I back away, so his arms loosen and fall to his side.
He walks out of the lounge. A minute later I hear the door close and lock.
I fall to my knees and weep. I give myself five minutes. Then I stand up, walk to the bathroom and clean my face. I give myself a speech in the mirror.
'Get your stuff and walk out of here with your head held high.'
And I do.
I phone Harry who comes up to meet me and helps carry boxes to the car. The press take a couple of photos and then leave. One even says he's sorry and wishes me luck.
It's the end of a chapter in the life of Ronnie.
CHAPTER 7
June 2014
Inner Peace
Sunday 1 June 2014
Harry backs away from flirting with me for the next few weeks, allowing me to mourn the loss of my relationship. I keep myself distracted by tormenting him. I take a selfie. Unknowingly Harry is in the background itching his nose. In the picture it looks like he's having a good delve. I share it on Twitter saying he's looking for his brain. The tabloids start picking up on what I'm posting. They talk about whether we are friends or in a relationship. Noting the photo of him looking unkempt, they speculate if he's having a breakdown after splitting with Pheely, and whether his womanising is finally taking its toll.
In response to this, there is a different kind of kiss and tell that weekend.
‘My one night with Harry: There wasn’t a stand.’
I knew someone out there would come forward eventually; bottom feeders who want their fifteen minutes of fame.
I try not to feel guilty. Tell myself that he deserves it. He uses people himself. It's hard though when he keeps fixing my dinners and letting me stay.
Monday 2 June 2014
Today Harry looks really down.
'What's up?'
He notes I'm wearing my jacket and boots. 'Nothing. Where are you off to?'
'To see my therapist. Want to come? You look like you could do with a session yourself.'
'I was supposed to be interviewed by GQ. It was going to be a big break for me, but they've cancelled. Said it looks like I'm having a few issues right now.'
'Because of one picture with greasy hair?'
'It's the tabloid exposé. They don't want any association with that kind of thing. I've got to get the press back to being focused on me as an ex-sportsman. I need to stay away from crazy women.' He sighs.
'Well, only you can stop screwing around with women.'
'I haven't been, you know. Not since I met you at the TV studios. You have some effect on me, Ronnie. It confuses me.'
'Well, anyway, I have to go keep my appointment or I'll be late,' I tell him.
Rebecca Prince gives me a very unprofessional hug.
'Ronnie. Good to see you.' Her dark blonde hair is streaked with highlights. She's wearing her hair in a ponytail. In trousers and a plain white shirt, with a chain around her neck, she looks approachable, but professional. I clock her Louboutin boots.
'Hey, nice touch. They're splendid.'
She draws them nearer to herself as if embarrassed. 'Just a treat.'
'Well why not? You work hard.'
'Just makes me feel a little guilty, that's all. Spending masses of money on shoes.'
'I think it's you that needs the therapy, not me.'
She laughs.
She puts a jug of water on the table and two glasses. I note the ever present open box of tissues.
Rebecca sits back in her seat and crosses her legs. 'Okay Ronnie. Why don't you tell me what's been happening in your life since we last met.'
I bring her up to date with events as succinctly as I can; about Col and Harry, the lies and deception, visiting Stella.
'Okay.' She rests her hands on the bridge of her chin. 'So what made you make an appointment? In particular? You've had these problems for a while, but not made an appointment.'
'You're right. I thought I could cope. I felt it was just life, and I was muddling along.'
'So what's changed?' She puts a hand up. 'Don't answer right away. Spend a couple of minutes thinking about it.'
I sit back in my chair. She pours the water and takes a sip.
I take a deep breath. 'I want to make changes in my life. I've been trying and it's all gone to shit.' I tell her about my list of Makeover subjects.
'The things that have gone wrong have been largely out of your control, Ronnie. What you need to focus on, are the things you can control. You've taken a perfect first step with your YouTube channel. Unless you choose to download something horrendous, all that people see on there is what you show them. How did Happy Morning make you feel?'
'Although I enjoyed being on television, it was largely scripted. I felt trapped and not in control.'
'Exactly. Although you found the experience enjoyable, it wasn't satisfactory.'
'I never thought of it like that.'
'That's why I'm here.'
I nod.
'Now you can't pick a subject out of thin air and just expect to be able to organise it like this.' She clicks her fingers. 'However you can make small changes that will hopefully have an effect in the longer term.'
'So I shouldn't be focusing on one a month?'
'It doesn't hurt to have a focus, but I think you should have a holistic approach to your life and focus on yourself as a whole person. What is this month's theme?'
'Inner peace.'
'Well that is definitely something that can't be fixed in a month. You may find peace this month and then circumstances out of your control could affect it again.'
My mouth droops.
'However… you can set up a coping mechanism, or a habit. Something to go to when you’re under intense pressure. You can start to make a positive change.'
'Like a cocktail?'
She smiles. 'I was
thinking more along the lines of meditation, or yoga. You can take yourself into a feeling of balance.'
'I've always fancied being able to put my legs behind my head.'
She gives me a stern look.
'Sorry.'
She opens a desk drawer. 'I have a CD for you to listen to and try. It's a guided meditation. Look up a yoga class. See if you find it of any benefit.' She hands me the CD.
'Okay. Thanks.'
'I want you to come and see me again in three weeks. In the meantime, I want you to think carefully about what we've talked about today. Look at your life as a whole. What is making you unhappy that you can change?'
Before I know it, my hour is up. I pick up my handbag and shake Rebecca's hand.
'I know you don't like me to talk about it, but I'll never forget that you're probably the reason I'm here. Not here in this room. Here as in alive.'
She blushes.
'Ronnie. I don't like to remember that night.'
'I'm sorry. It can't have been nice, seeing me in that state. If you hadn't brought me that plant...'
'I know, but you are here. Focus on the now, Ronnie. Let the past stay where it is, or it'll torture you forever.'
There's something in her voice that suggests she has her own demons. I thank her and leave.
Next stop is a visit to Sophie's. I've been quite neglectful of her of late. Although my course only requires a few visits, she's a lovely lady and I want her to know I'm serious about my future career. I want her to feel she's had a good service.
She greets me at the door. 'Well hello, stranger.'
'I know. Can I come in? A lot's been happening.'
As someone who doesn't read the tabloids or watch morning television, Sophie has no idea about my split from Col. I update her. She looks sad.
'I'm so sorry, Ronnie. This must be an incredibly hard time for you.'
'It's not been easy. I just want you to know though, that I'm getting back on track. I won't let you down with your vegetable garden.'
'I never thought you would, Ronnie. I can see that through your chaos is a girl just looking to be loved and appreciated—for herself.'
My eyes brim with tears.
'You remind me of myself at your age.'
I look at her with a confused expression.
'Oh don't look around here and think I've always been a rich, goody two shoes. I haven't. However you have to learn how to be more, shall we say, sophisticated about things. Now, tell me what you have in store for Harry's garden and I'll let you know how I can help you with your plans.'
I can't believe the suggestion she's made. It was something I hadn't considered. That what I planned to do could affect my course outcome. This, she says, is what she means about going about things with an air of sophistication. That where I need to make a good impression, I will still make it. Phew.
I work on her garden for a few hours. She occasionally comes and brings me a drink.
'Don't you get lonely in this big house by yourself?' I ask.
'No. Surprisingly not. It's home and has been for years. It's where all my best memories of Bill are. It's where my children grew up. I don't see it as a vast and empty space. I see it as filled with love.'
'I don't know where I want to live yet. Being at Harry's isn't easy.'
'So why don't you rent for a while?'
I stare up at the sky thinking. 'I could, couldn't I? Just for a few months until I decide where I'm staying. It's just that would be yet another move. I'm sick of feeling like I belong nowhere.'
'Come with me,' Sophie says. 'I might have just the thing.'
Sophie takes me to a bungalow on the grounds. Inside are two bedrooms, a large lounge, another large room and a kitchen/diner. It's dusty and obviously hasn't been used for a while.
'This is where Mary, the housekeeper, lived until last year. After my husband passed, she moved up into the main house.'
Sophie names a monthly fee. It's more than acceptable.
'You have it. Clean it up. Paint it. Whatever you like as long as it doesn't look like a brothel or some strange example of Tracey Emin artwork. Let's review things in six months, if you're still here then.'
'I don't know what to say,' I tell her.
'It's very simple,' says Sophie. 'Say yes and then get yourself moved out of Harry's.'
'Yes.'
Wednesday 11 June 2014
I spend the next few days visiting Sophie's and working on the bungalow. I adore it. It has a cosy feel. I keep the walls neutral. I furnish it with bohemian style accessories. The frames I affix to the walls and the rugs and throws personalise the space and make it feel like a place I'm happy to call home for a while. As I sit on the sofa I realise it may be the first time I have ever felt settled. None of the apartments I've had have made me feel this way. The view over the acre of grounds is peaceful and mesmerising. I can also look after Sophie's garden without having to disturb her. I've moved all the tools I need into the other downstairs room. I've purchased a table on which rests my plans for both gardens and a partly written dissertation. Sophie is happy with the changes I've made. She can see that when I do leave, all that will be left behind is a plain neutral home. She says renting is something she's been thinking of for a while, so I'm her guinea pig.
It's becoming harder to go back to Harry's. I sigh and leave my bohemian heaven behind.
I've not yet mentioned my moving out to him. I really do have mixed feelings about the guy. He used me, and potentially, he tried to kill me, yet he's been very supportive of my break up with Col. He's also insisted I live at his home rent free. Sometimes I feel guilty about my garden plan.
Other times, like tonight, I don't feel guilty at all. Tonight I believe Harry PR is in action. He's cooked me a three course dinner, with which we've had several glasses of wine. I'm feeling merry. The conversation had been comfortable up to the point where we've moved to the lounge. Now he moves next to me on the sofa, with a hint I should snuggle like I did before. Instead I turn the other way and put my feet across his legs.
'Give us a foot rub.'
He starts massaging my foot through my fluffy bed socks. That's right, I've had dinner in my pyjamas. That's all I felt like wearing after a day of decorating and gardening.
'So, I've done a shoot with OK this morning. They've done a day in the life of Harry Taylor; filmed me on the set of the show, at the gym etcetera. I kind of intimated in the interview that there might be something more than friends with us.' He doesn't look at me, focusing instead on my instep.
'Really?'
'Yeah. Anyway they're interested in coming over to the house, to shoot some pictures of us together here.'
'Is that so?'
'Yeah. So, what do you think?'
'I think you've stopped rubbing my foot.' I get up and get some more wine. I'm going to need courage for what I'm about to do next. Stella's idea of revenge.
I stroke his cheek. 'I'm just going to visit my bathroom,' I tell him. 'To freshen up.'
To Harry, that's like saying I'm going to prepare for a shag. I swear his ears prick up. I know something else has as I felt it under my massaged foot before I swung myself off the sofa.
When I get to my room I text Stella.
Please answer.
A few minutes later she replies, 'Here and ready.'
Game on.
As I come out of my room, I make sure I've loosened the top few buttons of my silk pyjamas.
Harry is outside his room hovering.
'You alright, Harry?'
'Yeah, I'm just about to put a movie on. I started to feel tired. Do you fancy watching it?'
'What movie?'
'I haven't decided yet. You choose if you like.'
'Sure. Okay then, Roomie.' I smack his backside as I walk past him. 'Hope your bed's comfy.'
Half under the covers he presses the remote control with a sigh. I've chosen Frozen, as if I was going to choose anything else. Duh!
Of course within less than f
ive minutes he's bored and starts caressing my arm. I let him get away with it. A few minutes later he pulls me closer to him.
'This snow's making me feel cold. Warm me up.'
I look at him. His face is a few inches from my own. He leans over and kisses me. His mouth is soft and warm against my own. He touches my lips softly with his own at first. Then stops and looks at me. Christ he is actually a fucking good kisser. I really need to remember what I'm supposed to be doing. This is part of my revenge remember. Well, I need to kiss him more then. I lean towards him and kiss him back hard.
'Oh my God, Ronnie.'
We kiss for ages. I'm completely distracted from Frozen. Instead, I am fighting off the need to sit myself on this man's dick.
I put my hand down inside his robe. He's naked beneath it. I trace his pecs, his ribs, his torso with my fingers. I run my nails across his skin. I lower my hand and wrap it around his dick.
'Oh, Ronnie,' he says, lying back against the pillow. He keeps closing his eyes with pleasure, but fights it. He can't stop watching me.
I pull back the duvet.
Harry's dick is a perfectly decent size and I know the reputation is that he can do amazing things with it, but right now, I cross my fingers about Stella's idea.
His cock lies stiffly inside my palm. I get up and sit astride Harry's legs and then look at it again.
'Oh dear.'
'What?' Harry looks panic stricken at his cock.
'Ah. It's just a little, well, smaller than I'm used to.'
He gasps. 'Aye? I've not disappointed anyone with it so far.'
I look at his cock and then at him. 'Well actually, that's not true is it? Emma from Croydon said that you couldn't get it up.'
His posture stiffens as his prick withers in my hand.
'Oh dear. It's gone all floppy.' I flounce it around a bit with my fingers, then lean down and blow on it. 'What's happening?'
Harry sits up. 'It's you, talking about it being small and then about that stupid woman in the papers. You've put me off my stride.'
I wobble my bottom lip.
'Hell, Ronnie. I'm sorry for shouting. I was just, you know, really in the moment and then -'
The Calendar Game (The Alpha Series Book 2) Page 15
