Page 33 of Love Will Save the Day
It takes a few seconds for me to catch my bearings. What the heck just happened? I jump out of the bed, throw on my robe and race out of the room after Henry. I have to explain. I have to apologise to him, make him understand why I lied to him. Damn it. I knew this bit would be difficult, but I didn’t think it would happen like this. I thought I had a handle on it.
‘Henry!’ I shout, following him down the stairs. ‘Henry, please listen to me!’
I follow him down into the kitchen where Auguste is already up and at the kitchen table tapping away on his laptop. He looks between the pair of us with horrified curiosity.
‘What’s going on?’ Auguste asks, seeing the upset on my face. He stands up from the table. ‘Bess, are you okay? Henry what have you done?’
Henry stands in the centre of the kitchen and folds his arms across his chest. ‘It’s not what I’ve done, Auguste. It’s what Bess here has done. Or rather hasn’t done. She’s been lying to both of us. Taking us for fools.’
‘I do not understand?’ Auguste shakes his head, his eyes flicking to me uncertainly.
I need to rescue this somehow. I need to explain.
I take a deep breath. ‘I… I didn’t save Henry’s life,’ I say, my voice squeaking slightly, my cheeks burning with shame. ‘I… I’m not the woman who stopped him from choking that day.’
‘Bess? You have lied to me?’ Auguste asks frowning.
‘She’s a con woman’ Henry says, running his hands through his hair. ‘And I fell for it.’
I shake my head quickly. ‘No… no. I didn’t mean to hurt you.’ I look at Auguste, tears prickling my eyes at the shocked look on his face. ‘Either of you… I… just… Henry, you recognised me in that café and you thought I was someone else. I was hungry so I went along with it – I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. And then that night I had a few drinks and called you to see if you wanted a personal trainer. It was dumb and I didn’t think you’d actually say yes! I certainly didn’t think you’d invite me to stay at your house.’
‘You were quick to accept, though.’ Henry, his eyes full of anguish. ‘What? Were you planning on… robbing me? Or did you think you could string me along forever?’
‘No! Why do you think I was avoiding your advances? I didn’t want to make things any worse. To lie to you anymore than I already had done.’
‘I was desperate,’ I say. ‘I needed somewhere to stay until I got back on my feet. It seemed harmless at the time…’
‘It is a good thing I found out the truth,’ Henry mutters.
‘Howdidyou find out?’ I ask, before I realise I actually have no right to ask that question. Henry doesn’t owe me anything.
Auguste looks down at his feet. ‘I do not like liars,’ he says quietly.
‘I amgenerallynot a liar!’ I protest, hating the thought that Auguste would think badly of me. ‘Please! I was at the end of my tether and you’ve both been so kind to me. You’re my friends now! I was going to come clean this morning and explain everything but Henry beat me to it. Please forgive me. I mean… it’s actually quite funny when you think about it… right?’
I look between them hopefully. Neither of them laugh.
Then my phone starts to beep with a bunch of text messages. I pick it up, my heart dropping as I see that all of the messages are from clients who, having just seen Henry’s Instagram Live video are cancelling their appointments with me. One of them says ‘I cannot trust a liar to sculpt my abs.’ Another one calls me ‘a nasty piece of work.’
No. No no no no. This cannot be happening. Everything was finally going in the right direction!
Auguste gives me a look so sharp that it breaks my defences and I start to cry. ‘It is time for you to leave, Bess,’ he says gently.
‘But… where will I go?’ I cry.
Now that all my new clients are all deserting me, there’s no way my plan to get somewhere else in Notting Hill will hold. I’m pretty much back in the same situation as the day I met Henry. Except now I’m responsible for upsetting the few people I know. I am the worst. I didn’t mean to be. It just… sort of happened.
Henry looks me up and down and shakes his head. ‘You are clearly a troubled woman, Bess. Maybe you just don’t belong in London. Perhaps it’s time for you to go home.’
