Page 30 of The Whole Package

‘I’m sorry, but it’s true! My husband has literally just cheated on me, Mother. My life is a mess and I’m living at my parents’ in a tiny box room.’ I took a breath. ‘Oh, and just when I thought it couldn’t possibly get worse, I’m being emotionally blackmailed into cooking meals for the scheme. Which feels unnecessarily cruel, if you ask me.’ The words came out so fast I felt slightly breathless.

Mum turned in her seat, looking disappointed. ‘Get any worse? Oh, God love you, Harri! When you’re feeling sorry for yourself, take a look around and see how good you’ve got it.’ She gestured towards the community centre as the car stopped outside. ‘Think of the people relying on you to make them their only hot meal of the day. Trust me, it can always get worse.’ She leaned across and planted a loud kiss on Dad’s cheek before hopping out of the car and hurrying towards the entrance without me.

‘Your mum’s just worried about you,’ Dad said gently. ‘She wants you to mix and talk to people. She means well.’

I opened the car door before he could say anything else and stepped out into the cold. I didn’t need a lecture, especially not from the man who had disappeared for what felt like my entire childhood.

*

Inside the community centre, I rolled up my sleeves and started spreading slices and slices of white bread. Today I was in charge of the cheese sandwiches, a job which my mother had already told me I had to take very seriously. Christmas songs blared in the background while the kitchen staff chatted about the price of turkeys and custard and sprouts for the big day. I stayed quiet, completely lost in my own thoughts.

I had to get out of here. Enough was enough. I couldn’t cope with the shitty weather and even worse small talk any longer.

Maybe I’d jump on a train in the morning. Tell Rupert I was ready to hear his apology. And sack that Penelope bitch on the spot. Surely he’d want our old life back as much as I did? I thought about what he said to Pen on the live, how he ‘wants to be with’ her, but I knew that wasn’t true. Rupert wasn’t an emotional man. Even on our wedding day, he didn’t give me any sentimental shit; it just wasn’t him. It felt off. Like maybe she was blackmailing him to expose their stupid affair, and he was playing along? He was probably working out a way with his lawyers to pay her off without me realising. Yes – that made more sense.

But now it was out there, I wondered how he was going to win me back. The poor bastard was probably planning the biggest statement of love known to mankind since Tom McFly’s wedding speech. Jesus, he’d probably demand our vows be renewed. Yes! I’d obviously have to wear the most amazing Vera Wang dress, custom-made. I imagined him grovelling, tears streaming down his face. I’d demand a public apology, of course, to the press and to all my followers. After all, he’d let them down. Shit, maybe he’d be on the six o’clock news anytime now. I mean, I am technically missing. Or maybe we should do marriage counselling? I cringed a little at the thought. But first, I’d expect my house to be filled with red roses and diamonds. Fuck, I could possibly wangle a micro pig out of this. They were so cute, and he knew I’d always wanted one. My followers would go crazy for that type of content.

That’s what I deserved. To be treated like a queen, after having to put up with living in this outpost of civilisation for his sins.

A small bubble of optimism fluttered in my stomach. Maybe things weren’t completely ruined after all.

I finally stepped back when the small mountain of sandwiches I’d made were nicely plated.

‘Good job today.’ Jamie’s voice came from behind me, just as I was pulling my zipper back on.

‘Thanks,’ I said, heading for the door.

‘You’re not staying to hand the food out?’ he asked, leaning casually against the doorframe while the rest of the kitchen helpers rushed around him. ‘That’s the best bit, honestly. You missed it the last time, too, but seeing how much it means to people . . .’

I shook my head. ‘No. I wouldn’t know what to say to anyone. Look, I have to go.’

It was true, even if I wasn’t hiding out, I was never good around people in that way. I never felt like I could connect the way others did, completely naturally. I’d only taken a few steps when I felt my arm being gently pulled back. ‘They’re just people, you know,’ Jamie said with a shrug. ‘Same as you and me.’

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I glanced at the screen and silenced it. Claire.

‘I know they are,’ I bit back, pushing the door open. ‘But I have plans.’

Jamie held the door as I walked through. ‘Big plans?’ he asked, with a slight smirk. ‘Like rotting in your bed again?’

I felt personally attacked. Who did he think he was? He wasn’t my friend, so calling me out like that was just insulting. My phone began ringing again. I pulled it out. Claire again.

I gave him a cold look. ‘It’s really none of your business,’ I snapped over my shoulder as I got the hell out of there.

Chapter Twelve

After several missed calls and a WhatsApp location share, I was standing outside Claire’s flat. I lifted my hand to knock, but the door burst open faster than I could move.

‘Thank God, finally,’ Claire puffed, hauling me in.

I stepped into her narrow hallway, where I was immediately hit with the sweet scent of wax melts. She led me into the living room, which was stylish and cosy, all pink and grey, with an open-plan kitchen tucked behind it.

‘I love your flat,’ I said, glancing around, noticing the cute Christmas tree at the window.

She laughed. ‘I mean, it’s not like your twelve-foot tree, but it does me,’ she said quickly. ‘Here, have a seat. How are you?’ She squinted at me in that weird sympathetic way people do when they’re expecting bad news, pushing my shoulders down, forcing me to sit on her sofa.

I grinned. ‘I’m good. Really good. I was at the community centre and I had a premonition. I think I’m ready to go back and face the music. I know Rupert. This time apart will be killing him. I think I’ve made my point now and—’

‘Harri . . .’ Claire cut in, her mouth dropping open.