We ate a beautiful dinner, we talked and laughed, ate and drank and as the end of the meal approached, I was sure it was coming, but it didn’t. I waited, every day for the next week, but it still didn’t happen. I considered telling him that I had found the ring and confronting him about it, but I was distracted by a bigger issue. My period was late.
I knew in my heart that if I were pregnant, it would be over with Simon. I wasn’t ready for that to happen, I wasn’t ready for a baby, but I was so confused. All I could think was how disappointed my parents were going to be with me.
I told Simon that I needed to go away with work for a few days. I booked a train ticket to Paris and a flat for a week. I don’t know why I felt the need to run away, but flight mode was well and truly activated. I spent a lot of time walking around the city, taking photographs and just thinking about what was I going to do. I still hadn’t done a pregnancy test, I was a couple of weeks late, but I was sure my period would come soon enough. Stress, I thought, it’ll just be stress.
I sat in the window of a café. It was a cold wintery day in Paris. The kind of day that makes everything and everyone look a little brighter, as though a filter has been applied. Cheeks were rosy; eyes were watery, and the sky was a perfect blue.
I watched as Parisians went about their business, chic young women rode past on bikes and made me envious of their tiny frames and effortless style. Tourists flooded in and out of the café and all around on the street outside, posing for photographs, ordering lunch in broken French and laughing as they sat together, couples, families and friends. I missed my friends; I felt like I hadn’t seen any of them properly in so long. I picked up my phone to call Rosie, and it rang in my hand. It was Simon.
I shouldn’t have answered, but I took it as a sign.
“Hello,” I said, quietly.
“Where have you been Philippa?” He asked sternly. I hadn’t spoken to him in days; he knew I was busy, but I had never ignored his calls before.
“Simon, I...” I hesitated. “I’m in Paris; I’ll be home soon.”
“I’m coming, text me the address.” My heart skipped a beat. He wanted to be with me; this was all going to work out.
“Okay. I’ll send it to you.”
I texted Simon the address and by that evening I was blowing him on the sofa of the flat. You would think he had been sex starved for a year the way he was that night, he was incessant, insatiable, I loved it, I needed it.
We took a trip to the top of the Eiffel Tower the next day and then, after handing back the keys to my flat, took a late flight back to London. In the car on the way back to Simon’s apartment, sleepy and a little love drunk, I told him, while I rested my head against his large chest, that I thought I might be pregnant.
Immediately Simon banged a hand against the window to instruct the driver to stop the car, before aggressively pushing me off his chest and away from him. He looked at me, his eyes boring into me angrily before he searched, for the words to say.
“Slut.” He spat out venomously and tears stung my eyes. I couldn’t speak as my throat tightened in shock. “I should have known it was only a matter of time before a whore like you tried to trap me. You’re not getting a penny of my money, you tramp.”
I sat there open-mouthed, stunned at his words. For a start, it came out of nowhere; it was terrifying. Secondly, I didn’t need a penny of his money, as I had made quite plain to him on many occasions, I had my own, and plenty of it.
“Get out,” he said coldly.
“What?” I asked.
“Get out of my fucking car, dirty whore, you can make your own way home.”
I let out a laugh, it wasn’t funny, not at all, but I had no idea how else to react. I couldn’t believe what was happening.
“Fuck you, Simon, open the boot please and I’ll get my bags out.” I got out of the car and retrieved my things from the boot, the second that it was closed, the car drove off, and I realised what a fool I had been. He didn’t love me; he loved fucking me, just like so many men before him.
I was pissed at myself. I had made a decision never to be used again, and that’s exactly, what I had let happen. Never again.
When I got a negative result on the home pregnancy test, I bought in a rage, as walked to find a taxi after being abandoned in the middle of London, I was relieved. I couldn’t wait to tell Simon. I was going to do it in person, I was going to look fabulous, and I was going to tell him to go fuck himself.
Dressed in my new Diane von Furstenberg navy blue, wrap dress, with the new red underwear that Simon bought for me in Paris, underneath, I stepped into my Christian Louboutin shoes and made my way to Simon’s office.
“You can’t go in there,” Simon’s receptionist called out as I marched past her desk.
Smiling sweetly but not stopping, I replied, “I’ll just be a second.”
“No, stop. He’s in a meeting.” She was chasing me as my hand gripped the handle, and I opened the door. I stopped, wide-eyed and then grinned at the sight of Simon banging a pretty, young, black girl over his desk. She tried to get up, clearly embarrassed, but his hands on her shoulder blades held her there, pinning her to the mahogany.
He didn’t stop screwing her as I closed the door and pulled open my dress, revealing the underwear. His eyes burned as he looked at me, he had salivated when he bought me the lingerie, said he couldn’t wait to make me come, wearing it and the shoes. Now all he could do was look and not touch as he pounded into her relentlessly. She sounded happy enough, but I did feel a little guilty that he was fucking her with his body but me with his mind.
I walked towards them and saw the ring on her finger, my ring. I laughed then, how stupid had I been? It wasn’t me he was going to propose to.
Reaching, into my clutch, I retrieved the second pregnancy test kit that I had taken, just now, in the toilets of the lobby, just to be sure. The word ‘negative’ was clear in the window as I placed the stick on the desk, turned and walked out. Not bothering to do up my dress as I walked past his waiting clients. Leaving the door open so that they could see the man they were doing business with, in all his sordid glory.
I redressed myself in the elevator, walked out of his building, and never heard from Simon again.
Behind the Lens
It’s been months since I even looked at Vinnie; I realise as I pack him into my case. We’ve had our first Christmas as parents of two children; and Holly turned five, which is just crazy to me. Not as crazy as the fact that she has nearly finished her first year at school, and Cooper is teething.
We have also been spending a lot of time with our families’ and friends’. Ben’s sister has just got engaged, so they’ve had to come first. It’s been great, but now that we’re finally heading out of what has seemed like a long winter that bypassed spring, and into the early days of summer, I’m thankful. We’re going on holiday, our first since Cooper was born, and I can’t wait.
We’ve decided two weeks at my parents’ house in Portugal, for our first wedding anniversary, is just what the doctor ordered and were excited to fly out in a couple of days. But packing, when you have a toddler and a baby, is not an easy task. Thank god I can afford to pay for extra baggage allowance, that’s all I can say; there’s so much to take.
Cooper is a really lovely baby; he’s growing so fast, but he’s a dream. Holly is still totally besotted, but becoming very impatient for him to be able to play with her.
“Can Cooper build a sandcastle, Mummy?” Holly asks as she sits cross-legged on my bed watching me pack.
“Not quite yet, baby girl,” I answer, folding my four hundredth baby grow.
“Can he come swimming with me, though?”
“Only if me or Daddy are there to hold him, sweetheart, he’s a bit too little to do things on his own just yet, Hollypops.” I smile at her, sympathetic to her desire to have her brother play and run and jump and do all the things that siblings are supposed to do. “Next year he’ll be doing all those things with y
ou though, okay, Monkey?”
Holly just shrugs and frowns at Cooper, before flopping dramatically down onto her back and sighing, disappointed and so hard done by. I try not to laugh, and instead, pick up my phone, dial my mum’s number and hand Holly the phone, some ‘Nana time’ is just what she needs.
“Okay, have you got everything?” Ben asks for the hundredth time as we load the bags into the boot of the car.
“Benjamin Long, ask me one more time.” I threaten through gritted teeth as I buckle Holly into her car seat, and he laughs.
“Just checking, woman.”
“Get in the car, boy.” I respond sarcastically, before closing Holly’s door and climbing into the passenger seat. “let’s get this show on the road.”
We head to the airport; Ben drops me, Cooper, and some of the bags off, before taking Holly and going to park the car. An airport worker brings me a trolley and loads my bags onto it while I strap Cooper to my chest. “Thank you so much,” I say genuinely and smile as he tells me it’s no bother and goes on with his day. After a few minutes, I spy Ben, with Holly on his shoulders, pulling the last suitcase and carrying a rucksack on his back, and my heart beats a little faster; he’s incredibly beautiful. I can’t imagine ever not feeling this way about him, especially when I see him with our babies, it’s an incredible feeling.
“Mummy,” Holly calls loudly, waving frantically with one arm while wrapping the other around Ben’s forehead. I laugh, he looks so uncomfortable, but she’s oblivious. I wave back and laugh harder when two old ladies walking past, point at Holly and start to giggle too. My funny girl.
We check in, feeling relieved to no longer be carrying a million-and-one bags around, and then go through to departures. Holly has flown quite a few times; back and forth to Portugal, we’ve taken her to Euro Disney and even flew down to Cornwall once, but it’s Cooper’s first time. I remember when we first took Holly on a plane, she was a little older than Cooper and had screamed her little face off when her ears popped. A lady next to us suggested trying to feed her next time, as it may prevent her ears popping, but luckily, she fell to sleep in time for the return journey, and they didn’t bother her. In fact, they’ve never bothered her on any flight since. I was locked and loaded this time, full boobs, bottle of water and a dummy… just in case.
“Stop worrying,” Ben says as we start to taxi on the runway, “he’ll be fine.” He holds my hand briefly before leaning over towards the girl and telling her to sit back. She’s in the window seat, with him next to her, and me near the aisle so that I can walk Cooper about if I need to.
I brace for the screams as we take off. Ben and Holly stick their fingers in their ears and start to pull silly faces at each other, and I pat Cooper’s back, soothing him before it becomes necessary. There’s nothing, as the plane levels out, and Holly sits forward to look at the clouds I look down at the sleeping baby in my arms and smile, the boy’s done good.
We land in Faro, collect our bags and the keys to the rental car and relax, a couple of weeks in the sun is just what the doctor ordered.
Cooper is asleep under a parasol, and I’m watching Holly and Ben splashing around in the pool. It started out as him trying to teach her to swim under the water, but just turned into absolute chaos, water splashing everywhere. Holly screaming and giggling uncontrollably and Ben trying, and I suspect intentionally failing; to control the situation. As I sit and watch my happy family, I feel the urge to go and get Vinnie from the house. I haven’t written anything in so long.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what I think of as the next ‘stepping stone’. A period in my life that I just need to get off my chest and into Vinnie’s pages, but I’ve just been so busy.
I glance at Cooper, he’s been asleep for about ten minutes, I’ve probably got an hour or so until he wakes up, and until Holly get’s hungry for some lunch.
“Ben,” I call out, and he looks up at me, holding Holly above his head. “Watch the boy a sec, I’m just nipping inside.” He nods his agreement before dropping Holly into the water and pulling her back out, both of them screaming with laughter; the boy is fine, he’s safe, and I’ll be two minutes.
“Hello, buddy,” I say out loud as I pull Vinnie from my bag and run my fingers over the leather. “We have work to do.” I make my way back out to the poolside, smile at the ‘wet and wild’ animals who are now sitting calmly next to the boy, waiting for my return. Then I relax back onto the sun lounger, taking the pen from Vinnie’s spine and opening up to a fresh page.
After Simon, life was a little crazy. I threw myself into my promiscuity as though I had been starved for a year and then released at an all you can eat buffet. I was working hard, and playing harder; it was pretty insane.
Rosie was wrapped up in her relationship and honestly, I couldn’t stand the guy. It worked out alright though because he despised me too. The sad thing was that that it meant I didn’t get to see as much of my bestie as I would have liked, but we got together whenever we could figure it out.
I was working more and more on pretty high profile shoots, and that’s how I met Shane; he was a model I was working with on a shoot in Sydney. He was from Perth and came along at just the right time.
Travelling alone can be seen by some as lonely, boring at times even, but for me, it was full of opportunities, professionally and personally. I was working a lot, and could easily have become stressed with how busy I was, but I’ve always managed to stay stress-free with sex. I decided, as I was going to be in Australia and then Japan for a few months that I would set myself a challenge. I downloaded a map of the world onto my laptop and decided I was going to fill it with conquests.
I didn’t say it was a particularly virtuous challenge, but then, I think you know me well enough by now to not have expected that.
I started off pretty good, immediately marking off a few countries that I had already conquered within minutes of downloading the map. After that, my competitive streak surfaced; I know I wasn’t competing against anyone but myself, but I was determined to fuck my way around the world and love every second of it.
I set myself some rules. Hand and blow jobs didn’t count, and neither did me getting fingered or eaten, we had to fuck, and that was about that. It didn’t have to be one man at a time, and hey, it didn’t even have to be a man if the right woman came along and the mood hit me. I’d never been with a woman, but after that night in New York, I wasn’t opposed to giving it a go.
The next day, I headed on to set and met Shane… game on.
I’ve never really had a type. I like men; that’s it. I don’t like fat men, but chubby is okay, I don’t like ugly men, but they don’t have to be Greek gods, and funny goes a long way. I’m not opposed to skinny, as long as they don’t look ill, and I don’t care about skin colour, at all; but Shane was something else.
I grew up watching TV programmes about beautiful people in Australia, who daily surf, have year-round tans, blonde hair and sexy accents; Shane ticked all of those boxes. He had what I’d call a typical surfer look; he was toned but not overly muscular, tanned but not ridiculously so. He was a health nut and only ate organic but allowed himself a cheat night when he finished a shoot, and a joint or two of an evening. He barbecued on the beach, played cricket, and worked as a handyman when he wasn’t modelling. It was like some horny witch had written the words ‘Hot Australian Dude’ on a piece of paper, thrown it into a cauldron and poof, out popped Shane.
I giggle as my mind drifts to the scene in Rocky Horror Picture Show when Rocky comes to life. A blonde, muscle-bound bombshell in gold pants that sends everyone crazy. Yep, that’s how Shane was created, I decide and laugh out loud.
“What’s so funny?” Ben calls from the edge of the pool, and I look up, and into those eyes, sighing.
“Just reminiscing, baby.” I smile, and Ben lifts himself up out of the pool showing me his toned and delicious body. He’s dripping wet as he climbs out completely and stands in front of me, making my mouth
dry, before turning to Holly who’s sitting on the floor at the shallow end of the pool with her Ariel mermaid doll.
“Holly, come and help Daddy make some lunch,” he calls out and she jumps up, leaving poor Ariel face down in the pool as she runs to him. Ben leans down and kisses the top of my head, without another word, before heading into the house with his little shadow.
Cooper wakes up as Ben and Holly disappear, so I put Vinnie down and take the boy inside.
“You make a mean, ham sandwich, husband.” I say, enthusiastically, and Ben laughs,
“That’s why you married me.” I nod and take another bite. It’s too hot for the kids to be in the sun at this time of day, so Ben takes Cooper to play with his toys on the tiled floor of the living room, and I take Holly for a nap. She doesn’t normally nap anymore during the day, but the heat, and playing in the pool all morning has worn her out.
She’s restless because she’s hot, so I go through with her to settle her down, not realising how tired I must have been myself and soon start to feel my eyelids becoming heavy.
Have you ever lay down next to a sleeping child? It’s impossible to stay awake. I challenge you, lie down, snuggled up to one of the warm and cuddly little monsters and keep your eyes open… it won’t happen.
Ben wakes me an hour later when Cooper needed feeding; Holly is still out cold, so I decide to let her sleep for a little longer.
I feed the boy and put him down in our bedroom for a sleep as it’s a little cooler in there. Holly wakes up a little groggy so ask Ben to watch some TV with her, and I head back outside to Vinnie.
It’s not normally this hot at this time of year; I love the heat, but it’s hard on the little ones. I sit in Holly’s vacated spot in the shallow end with my back against the side of the pool and my knees bent to rest Vinnie on. The water is only a few centimetres deep, enough to cover my feet and the bottom of my arse cheeks, and enough to keep me cool.
Memoirs of a Wild Child Page 7
