Page 11 of Plot Twist

I stopped typing. It had been the longest week in history and my head spun. I wasn’t sure that I’d read it correctly but yes, Riley O’Connell the romance writer with an actual publishing deal was offering me some sort of pity lifeline.

Imagine. She actually wanted to spend time with me in real life.

I wasn’t even sure where exactly she lived. In fact, I realised I wasn’t even sure what Riley looked like, given her profile picture was a snap of her cute four-year-old little girl, sporting the most adorable little bunches.

It might have been the thought of getting the hell out of the country that I still shared with my sneaky ex-boyfriend who was dating my Rae. Or, sure, it might have been the accumulation of all the wine, but the offer was the most appealing I’d had to date.

Spending time writing with Riley the actual romance writer working towards my dream of becoming a writer, versus moping around at home feeling sorry for myself, was a bit of a no-brainer.

I took another large glug of wine, a deep breath, and fired the message back.

Me:Count me in.

6

I woke with a dull headache and the thoughts immediately started swirling around my mind. The aching realisation that Rae was dead brought on a lingering feeling of panic that quickly slid into shock. At least I’d managed to sleep a little. It must have only been for a couple of hours. And yes, it had taken me several glasses of wine, but I’d bloody well done it.

Thoughts of the day before flooded back. Drew and Rae. Rae and Drew. Fleeing the funeral after the revelation. Then I remembered. I sat bolt upright in bed. My credit card sat on my dresser beside a large glass of water. My phone was charging beside my bed, minding its own business. I grabbed it and scrolled through my emails.

I’d emailed Mrs Pender at 2.05 a.m. to say I wasn’t able to come back before the summer holidays. It sounded quite professional until I reached the ‘Best wishes’ at the end, which read ‘Best kisses’. I groaned and put my face in my hands, my heart thudding in my chest. I peered through my hands to see what other damage I’d done.

Ah, double shite.

I frowned reading the next email. A boat booking? A memory of the evening before quickly came flooding back, as I remembered all the wine and something about a writers’ retreat with Riley. It sounded like a perfectly lovelyideaat the time, but it was now actually reality. I was booked on the threep.m. ferry to Ireland that afternoon.

I did a double-take. Was I crazy? I hadn’t told a soul. I was going to stay with a stranger for the summer– a woman no one had met before, least of all me.

Gawd, I’d even packed a suitcase. I remembered feeling so smug, sosureof myself, as I’d piled my jeans and T-shirts into my suitcase the night before. I leapt out of bed and rushed over.

On closer inspection, I realised that despite heaping clothes on top of one another along with several miniature Scotch whisky bottles my dad had left at my flat, I hadn’t actually packed any pants. I groaned. Things had to be evened up a little bit, plus I’m pretty sure they sell alcohol in Ireland so I didn’t really need the whisky.

I washed away the shame of my solo drinking in the shower. How could I have made so many life decisions in one evening? It was one thing to decide to take a leave of absence from work but to actually book to leave the country? That was verging on crazy, wasn’t it?

As I played out scenarios in my mind, I decided maybe I wasn’t going mad after all. Going to Ireland to stay with Riley was still the best offer on the table right now. And something deep down seemed to be agreeing with my decision. It had been the best night’s sleep I’d had since Before Rae, after all. Bring that book bitch down, that’s what Rae had said. But what if that book bitch was my next shot at an actual friend? I needed one right about now. Plus, I had no job to go to now anyway. I could hardly email Mrs Pender back and say I’d been pissed and had changed my mind now, thank you very much.

But. . . oh, the shame. The guilt. My stomach lurched as the water cascaded down my face and I wiped the previous day’s mascara from my eyes.

Rae and Drew. Drew and Rae. I couldn’t get them out of my thumping head. I switched the shower off and wrapped a towel around myself.

After I got dressed, I picked up my phone to check in with Riley.

Me:Did I really agree to come and stay with you last night? Gawd, my head is sore. Too much wine.

She texted back straight away. She was good like that.

Riley:Ah, shit. Are you regretting it now? I wondered if it was the wrong time to ask. Didn’t know how much wine you’d had. Listen, if you want to cancel then don’t worry about it. We’ll totally understand.

Me:We?

Riley:Yes, well, I happened to mention it to Ivy this morning and she got a little bit excited about having you over. . .

Me:What did she say?

The most adorable drawing of a lady holding a wee girl’s hand flashed up on my phone. She had written my name, kind of. B-E-K-A.

Me:That’s so sweet. OK, tell her I’m coming.

Riley:You are?