Little Doll: Queens of Chaos 1

by L. J. Findlay

  “Honestly, it was just a great experience to be able to be in the same room with people like that. It was inspiring. Made me think of where I might be in twenty years’ time,” she laughed nervously like the fucking suck-up she was.

  I smiled politely like everyone else but she made me feel ill. Surely she didn’t believe that. She was a timid Scot, fresh out of uni from Aberdeen, and only twenty-one, but surely she couldn’t be that naïve? They were just people and not very nice people either.

  India continued. “The same cannot be said for Xanthe. I wanted to help her but her recent actions have led me to be concerned about her wellbeing and mental health. We knew that she was worried about the event due to her knowing several attendees, but that is no excuse for any kind of drug taking at any event.”

  What? The words slammed into me but I couldn’t comprehend them. I didn’t take any drugs that evening, I wouldn’t have been so stupid. Gasps from the other colleagues resounded around me and I scrambled to come up with a defence but India marched on. “It’s sad really that Xanthe doesn’t understand the meaning of hard work as has been shown time and time again in her employment at Mint Catering & Events.” With that she sat back, sipping her wine smugly.

  And bam. Goodbye job, hello incarceration.

  “That’s complete falsehood…” I began to say but Maxine stood up, furious.

  “I don’t think you get a say, Xanthe,” she interrupted, her disgust matched by the other colleagues. “Let’s not ruin this afternoon of celebration, we will chat when we return to the office.” She paused, looking at me frozen. “I think it’s best if you make your way back now, hm?”

  Fighting back the urge to rail against the injustice, I pushed my chair back and made my way out, biting back the tears. I didn’t know how many more hits I could take. Was it worth it? There was no going back now unless I ran away by myself but even then I was sure that Xander would find me and punish me as he outlined on the tube. It was like Blaise said; effective hiding in this adult game of hide and seek required money to create elaborate illusions, escape routes, and disguises. Like I said repeatedly, my family were comfortable but I did not have access to limitless funds as seen on TV. I was slowly learning that Xander’s family were the type to have said access, but I hadn’t asked. It had always seemed vulgar to pry into such a personal matter. I laughed. If Blaise didn’t rescue me, it was inevitable that I would be his wife. Didn’t get much more personal than that.

  Fed up of sending text messages without a reply, I dialled Blaise. It was reckless but I needed answers. Cursing when the first call went to voicemail, I called again. Voicemail. Third time lucky. I paced, anxiously smoking to calm myself.

  “One second, work call.” Thank God. He had picked up. I waited a moment more before he spoke up again. “What the fuck is wrong now?”

  I shrank back, worried that I’d made a mistake. “Blaise?”

  “Everything okay? I told you not to fucking ring me. It’s too dangerous.”

  I smarted under his rebuke and snapped back. “Well, no you didn’t fucking say that.”

  He sighed, “I thought it was implied. Well, what’s the matter?”

  “India’s accused me of taking drugs.” I paused, trying to not cry on the phone. “It is all because you didn’t stay over with Isadora and this is revenge because Jaz found out about us. Guess we were not as subtle as we thought. How are you dealing with your hysterical, probably depressed fiancée?"

  He laughed at that. “You were not wrong. I’ve been summoned to stay at Marcus’ house. She’s been in a facility all week as she hasn’t been able to cope with the lack of attention. No fucking wonder she’s coming back tonight.”

  “The problem has been dealt with. I don’t know how much more I can take.”

  Shit. I shouldn’t have said that. Blaise didn’t speak for a while, the silence painful. He couldn’t leave me but I just couldn’t deal with the continual attack I was under. He needed to activate whatever plan he had and he needed to enact it now. Things had spiralled catastrophically out of control.

  “Xanthe, you know we can’t just leave. How the fuck do you think I feel in this situation? There’s nothing I’d want more, but you know life isn’t that simple.”

  “I know. I know. I trust you.” And on that I hung up. I just needed to figure out what to do. Clearly he was incapable but I just didn’t know what other options I had.

  My phone buzzed.

  * * *

  Blaise: Stay patient, gorgeous x

  * * *

  I gazed at the brief message and responded simply.

  * * *

  Me: Always x.

  * * *

  What choice did I have?

  The afternoon passed so slowly, it was as though time was going backwards but thankfully the team came trickling back, jovial and joking. That stopped when they caught sight of me. Of course, they had been saying all sorts of things.

  Maxine saw me and said, “Xanthe. Office. Now.”

  I walked with all the fear and resignation of someone on death row to her office with everyone shamelessly watching the scene unfold. “Maxine. How can you believe India? I would never do that.”

  “Stop with the excuses. India said that she saw you swallow something in the bathroom. She said it was Xanax but didn’t want to say anything because she thought it was a one-off. Recently, things have come to light and she felt obliged to tell me. You should be thanking her because it was an incredibly brave thing for her to do.”

  “I honestly have not done anything like this.”

  “Says every addict,” Maxine snapped back. “I’m tired of this and I think the time has come that I can no longer deal with my friend’s problem child. I think it’s understood that you won’t be returning tomorrow so I think it would be wise for you to pack your things up.” I made to exit the room and she called after me, “Oh and I told your mother. She’s incredibly hurt and disappointed so I would think of how to apologise to her if I were you, young lady.”

  Predictably, as I left the office, my phone buzzed with an incoming call.

  Mum.

  I considered briefly not picking it up but what choice did I have? Obediently, I picked it up and braced myself for the inevitable tirade.

  “How dare you? Do you know how embarrassing this is? Imagine if it had got out, it would have been so shameful.”

  Denial was useless but the injustice was just too acute, I didn’t want people to believe India’s baseless lies. “I didn’t do what they are accusing me of.”

  “Of course you would say that but you have been acting so erratically the past couple weeks. We were wondering if something was up and clearly there is something.”

  “And so what?” I snapped out, frustrated. “It’s not like we’re particularly famous or noteworthy. We’re just your boring, average, middle-class family. The media wouldn’t give a shit if I had done something.” My mother’s desperation to make us seem more noteworthy than we were was honestly so tiresome and in the past few weeks it had become sickeningly obvious.

  “I don’t think you are in a position to be acting so rudely, Xanthe,” my mother retorted. “You are so short-sighted. How do you think this will reflect on Xander in ten years’ time? He’s inevitably going to be high-profile and of course you are both friends’ with Marcus’ Isadora, and her future husband, Blaise.” Panic threatened to choke me at the vision she painted of my life in ten years but I held my tongue and allowed her to continue. “Speaking of, he has been saying some worrying rumours about you and Blaise. I understand you were intimate with him during that time when you went off the rails but it can’t continue. It’s vulgar. And selfish. Did you know that Isadora has come home because they are so worried about her mental state? Originally, I thought her distress when you started your relationship with Xander was unfortunate but ultimately it was always going to be you and him. Not him and Isadora. Now it’s looking like a targeted attack. Whoever she wants, you take from her. I have n
ever understood why you can’t just get along with her. She’s such a classy, nice young lady. You need to grow up and start to be accountable for your actions.”

  “No problem, Mother,” I spat out, not wanting to engage with her attack.

  “Lunch at home on Saturday and don’t be late.” She hung up, leaving me looking at my phone in astonishment.

  I tapped out a message to Xander as I approached the tube:

  * * *

  Me: I got fired today.

  * * *

  I waited anxiously by the entry to Pimlico, gazing at my phone impatiently. He better fucking reply. I just needed confirmation of his involvement in the latest chapter of horrors. My phone buzzed, causing me to jump.

  * * *

  Xander: You make your bed and you lie in it. I’ll see you Saturday. Don’t be late. And don’t do anything stupid x

  * * *

  The cryptic message buzzed in my head like an annoying cloud of midges. What did it mean? Of course he would be present on Saturday. My parents saw him as a member of the family. My older brother Zac saw him as a younger brother. Something was up. I tried calling him before I entered the tube but it just went to voicemail. I knew he was busy but it felt like he was ignoring me which only made me more stressed.

  On leaving Brixton, I tapped out a message to Blaise.

  * * *

  Me: I got fired. I think something’s up so please don’t blame me – meeting the family for lunch on Saturday. Xander will be there xx

  * * *

  When I got home, Gemma and Noelle pulled me into a hug and that’s when I finally allowed myself to let the tears free that I had been holding in all day. They soothed me and reassured me but it did little to alleviate the tension I felt and when I woke up on Friday I felt physically sick. I wished Blaise was here but he was still clearly looking after poor, sad Isadora. She had such a victim complex.

  The day dragged past slowly and I resisted the urge to break into the bottle of gin. It wouldn’t help my case any if I were to while away the days with gin, as tempting as that was. I was relieved when my girls finished work and I could get dressed up and meet them at Flat Iron Square with the rest of our friends from uni. We had agreed to keep the news of the firing, Blaise, and Xander between the three of us so it was a hugely enjoyable evening. Just a chance to have a few bottles of wine, a dance, and a gossip. It made me regret pursuing Blaise. If I had just done the sensible thing of leaving it in Paris then I could laugh with my girlfriends about disastrous Hinge encounters, flirt with some boys. Leave Xander in the past where he belonged. As it was, I had thought I was doing the right thing but I had essentially dug my own grave. One night of fun was not going to alter the grim reality.

  Xanthe

  I woke up to the day of sentencing feeling slightly hungover but thankfully it was one that would dissipate during the day as Gemma had made sure that Noelle and I were tucked up in our beds by midnight. Absolute angel. We always should listen to her. Maybe if I listened to her more we wouldn’t be in this mess.

  I rolled over and looked at my phone, smiling at the messages from the girls last night, seeing the Insta stories, and ignoring the sinking realisation that there was still radio silence from Blaise. Other than the picture Isadora had posted of them having a romantic couple’s dinner with some bullshit caption about being thankful for her fiancé. She sure did recover quickly when he was acting like her fucking little lapdog.

  I opened the message from Xander:

  * * *

  Xander: Glad you had fun last night, shame Noelle was there. Wear the white dress today with the nude heels x

  * * *

  Still bossing me around with my wardrobe, I thought tiredly. It wasn’t like I could ignore his request, I was already in enough shit. The white dress in question was one of my least favourites as it exaggerated my doll-like features; it was midi in length, made from satin, tightly cinched in at the waist with long, flared sleeves. It could be called demure if not for the plunging v-shaped neckline that accentuated my ample chest.

  Once dressed, I regarded myself in the mirror and then cold realisation settled over me like a shroud. Or should I say, wedding veil. My reflection looked positively bridal. A blushing bride dressed in white, I thought angrily. He wouldn’t go there, would he?

  I snapped a picture of my reflection and sent it to Blaise. I thought if I didn’t include a caption then that might encourage him to reply.

  I grabbed my bag and headed out, bumping into a sleepy Gemma who looked at me in surprise.

  “Xanthe, what the hell are you wearing? You look like you’re going to the races or something. I haven’t seen that dress on you before.”

  “That’s because I hate it. Xander loves it.” I chewed my lip nervously and said, “He asked me to wear it today.”

  Horror crossed Gemma’s expression. “I can’t believe that not only are you in a relationship with him again but you are letting him boss you around. Where’s the confident, amazing girl, who’s my friend, gone?”

  “It’s fine. To be honest, it’s all my fault. If only I hadn’t pursued things with Blaise.”

  Gemma looked guilty and murmured, “I don’t know. This is all way beyond me.” She looked at me desperately. “This kind of shit doesn’t happen in real life, you know? I am so out of my depth and I want to help you with Blaise, but surely it’s just crazy to run from one controlling psychopath to another?”

  I rushed forward and pulled her into a tight hug, kissing her head and said, “It’s fine, honestly. I didn’t think things would get so out of hand but trust in Noelle. Remember how she always says that if we get into a mess then we can damn well get out if it?” I laughed weakly, her motto ringing hollow as I said it. “Everything will work itself out. I haven’t created a situation I can’t get out of.”

  “Just be careful. Okay, babe?”

  “Always,” I said as my phone buzzed.

  * * *

  Xander: Outside.

  * * *

  Fuck’s sake. He could have warned me he was picking me up.

  Gemma watched me carefully. “That’s him, right?”

  I grimaced. “See you later, kay?”

  She hugged me again and I headed out, down to where he waited by his black Range Rover. So unnecessary for London, I always thought, but he liked it. Fucking peacock.

  I hugged him, ignoring the fact that the gesture was not reciprocated. “Hey, Xan. Didn’t expect you to pick me up.”

  “You’re my girlfriend, it’s only proper,” he replied coldly. He surveyed my appearance, straightening a wayward strand of hair so that my hair sat straight above my shoulders. “At least you have made an effort with your appearance.”

  I said nothing at that but slid into the front seat just as he started the ignition and pulled out of the tight spot he had manoeuvred into. Anxiety at being trapped in the car with him threatened to overwhelm me but I tamped it down. I didn’t have a choice and it wasn’t like he was going to run us off the road before meeting our parents for lunch. At least I hoped so, now the thought was in my head I could feel my breathing shallow and quicken with fear. Get a grip, Xanthe! I cursed internally. It wouldn’t do to be so emotional about this. I could feel the angry tension radiating off him but I wasn’t going to poke the beast. He would spit out whatever was bothering him soon enough.

  “I saw you and Blaise last weekend,” he said eventually.

  Confusion ran through me. “You mean at the party?”

  He sneered. “Don’t play innocent, little doll. I mean afterwards. At your flat. Now why would an engaged man be at my girlfriend’s flat, hm? And not only in her flat but in her bed. Such bizarre behaviour if you ask me, but what do I know?” Icy fear froze my veins and I sat there, trapped as he sped through London. He continued conversationally, tapping his fingers on the wheel. He always did that when he was mad. “I am pretty fucking furious, to say the least, that my girl has been spreading her legs like such a slut. I had to take some neces
sary steps.”

  “How dare you?” I fumed. “You didn’t need to get me fired.”

  “No. How dare you? How dare you act like such a selfish, spoilt, slut? Isadora was fucking hospitalised because Marcus was so worried about her. How can you live with yourself? I thought she was overreacting when we started dating because everyone knew we were meant to be together and sympathised with you, but now, now I just see it as a deliberately unprovoked attack on a girl who has been nothing but kind to you.”

  I shrank back from his anger but held my ground and scoffed. “You know that she’s faking it. She always has done. She’s always got what she wants. I think selfish and spoiled applies more to her than me. I’m assuming she recovered fairly quickly on Thursday when she realised that she had won.”

  Xander stopped at a red light then and spun round, slapping me hard. I gasped in shock as my face prickled, pain radiating through the nerves nestled beneath my cheek. “You do not want to push me. I fucking own you, little doll, and you will be compliant. No man will have what is mine.” He paused, breathing heavily, before looking at me beseechingly. “I could be a good partner? You know that. Didn’t we have good times together?”

  I gazed at his grey eyes, stormy with distress, and suddenly felt the ground give way beneath me; it made me think I had pushed him too far. This was, after all, the first time he had hit me. Had I not got involved with Blaise then he would still be the loving boyfriend. There was only so much a man could take. A shiver ran down my spine at that thought and the memory of how he had so carelessly held my life in his hands the other day at the tube. What if this was all a taste of what was to come? What if I couldn’t escape and I was forced to be his little doll forever? Would I even survive? Or would this little doll be shattered beyond repair?