Page 55 of Textbook Romance

‘Then that’s good. I’ll give them a call and get them to pick you up from outside there. Their names are Sarah and Hakeem. They’re really nice, just stay on the line and we’ll give you all the details you need.’

‘OK.’

Zoe looks at me as I escape to a corner of the room to ring Sarah. Sarah will get involved because she’s nosy but also has a halo of solid gold when it comes to people needing help. However, if I have to, I will refer to the time their dog pooed on my pillow. I see Zoe trying to calm her son down, emotion lacing her voice, and all her focus and attention is on him. Is it strange to say that makes her all the more attractive? That maybe shouldn’t be at the forefront of my mind right now.

‘Sir Damon, to what do I owe the pleasure?’ Sarah says down the phone.

‘Hon, I need a favour. You don’t happen to be free today?’

‘Yeah, all OK?’

And as I explain the situation to my friends with bribes of more free pet-sitting, I hear Zoe in the corner of the room. She’s on the phone but quite obviously not with Dylan anymore and there is a strength and ferocity there, unleashed.

‘How in the hell did you ever think that was a good idea? So you just let her leave? You didn’t follow her? She is THIRTEEN. I couldn’t give a flying fuck about Liz right now. Why aren’t you with our son? Well, he doesn’t want to be there, so I’ve got someone picking him up. WHO? It’s none of your business. He is old enough to be able to state what he wants, and he doesn’t want to be there. Have enough respect for YOUR children to let them make their own decisions… I don’t care about your rights as a father… If you’re so concerned, then speak to a lawyer… Have you banged your head or something? I DON’T GIVE A FLYING FUCK!’

And I sit there listening, half giving Hakeem directions but also witnessing Zoe really let go. I suspect she’s not spoken to her husband like this since all of this has happened. And he deserves this. When you set fire to your world, you shouldn’t be allowed to not feel some of those flames up close and realise what you’ve done.

And all at once, I feel relieved and proud that she’s able to tell him exactly what a complete and utter dick he has been.

ELEVEN

Zoe

I once watched an episode of Grey’s Anatomy where a man had a brain tumour that changed his personality; he acted so irrationally that he went up to a bear when he was camping and got his brother completely disembowelled. Sometimes, when I think of what Brian could possibly do next, I consider that maybe he did have some sort of traumatic brain injury that triggered all of this. Maybe he was hit by a golf ball or hit his head on one of the rafters in the loft. If not, maybe I could hit him in the head. I think I could manage that quite easily.

Lottie is many things: she’s independent, she could talk her way out of a paper bag. She’s shrewd and streetwise but by that same measure, she is thirteen and the idea of her just walking around the unfamiliar streets of Manchester, on public transport with just her phone and the clothes on her back, makes me slightly queasy. Anything could have happened, she could have ended up anywhere, with the wrong people. I look down at her text.

I hate dad. I am going to divorce him myself. I’m coming home. I’m going to Aunty Kate’s xxx

It was sent before she got on the train. So casual, so bloody confident. It’s the sort of thing you wish you could bottle up and sell. I kept texting her to tell her how much I love her, and she just replies in rants with abbreviations I still don’t understand. I can’t be angry because I get it. What was Brian thinking? This was supposed to be a weekend for him to repair his relationship with his children, not a chance to throw Liz into the mix. He’s lucky Lottie didn’t bare her teeth and just go for her. It’s only by the grace of the universe and sheer miracle, she is now safe with Kate and my heart can rest easy.

Who were those people? And who the hell is Jack?

Brian messaged me when Dylan was collected.

Oh, he’s just the twenty-nine-year-old man I fucked five times in the space of twelve hours. Who knows where my clitoris is, gave me multiple orgasms after breakfast and who has helped me sort out your mess. YOURS.

I didn’t message him that, but I was close. So close. In the meanwhile, I am also aware that the sex bubble has burst. A magical twelve hours in this room came to an end when the curtains were opened and real life flooded in. Jack and I are showered and changed and sit on opposite sides of the room, trying to work out the logistics of getting my kids home. And I guess most blokes would have left by now but Jack stays. He keeps offering me drinks. He gives me updates on where his friends are with Dylan. He disappeared for half an hour but returned with doughnuts. It’s a special sort of person who understands how a stressful situation needs fried dough, sugar and jam.

They’ve just dropped me off. I’m safe. They were really nice.

As soon as Dylan’s message drops, I exhale deeply. Not that I didn’t trust Jack’s friends but at least my kids are reunited and with someone they know. A FaceTime suddenly comes through, and I panic. I have to chat to all of them but I’m still in this hotel room. I jump up from my chair and run towards a blank wall that I can try and blag as home or school.

I press accept and as soon as I see both of their faces on screen, relaxed and safe on Kate’s sofa, I start crying. They both stare at me, looking confused.

‘Why are you crying?’ asks Lottie. ‘Where are you?’

Independent it would seem but not particularly empathetic.

‘I’m at school, Lottie. I can’t believe you. I don’t think you realise that you got on a train. On your own. Anything could have happened to you,’ I try to explain to her.

‘Yeah, but it didn’t. There was no way I was going to spend a minute longer there. With him,’ she sneers.

I’m not going to waste my anger and worry on her, but I sigh, shaking my head. ‘And you, Dylan, you OK?’

He forces a smile. ‘Hakeem and Sarah were really nice. Hakeem has season tickets for Man City, he said he’d take me to a game if I wanted.’

He’ll never talk to me about his dad and how this really makes him feel and I don’t want to force it, especially when we’re not in the same room. ‘Then I’m glad.’

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