Page 37 of Play On

I love this. Now I must see him cut sometime.

Noah Darby is typing …

Would you want to meet me for coffee today? Around ten? I think I’m going to need several.

Yes! I quickly text him back:

I not only will need that, but I love the idea of having one with you. Ten is fine. Where would you like to meet?

I hit send, and whilst I feel more awake than ever now, I once again have zero regrets.

Noah’s reply drops in:

Do you want to meet at The Biscuit Cutter? I have gone with Camden and Bella a few times and it’s outstanding.

I eagerly text back:

I love that place. Yes, I’ll see you there at ten. Warning: I might look like a zombie.

Noah Darby is typing …

I’m willing to bet you’ll look more like a bubbly glass of rosé than a zombie.

I laugh. I tell Noah good night and that I will see him later, then put my phone back down on the bedside table. Bubbly glass of rosé after a night of no sleep? Right.

But practically glowing from happiness will surely make up for that.

* * *

Okay I do not look like a bubbly glass of anything. I look more like a concoction of hideous black brew.

I could NOT sleep last night. At all.

And GAH, it shows this morning—I have the dark circles under my eyes to prove it.

I open up my make-up bag and pull out my collection of concealers. I’m a big fan of concealers and use several different brands. I decide to go with my NARS Radiant Cream Concealer, because it doesn’t crease under my eyes. I select a brush and work it in.

I stop and look at my handiwork. That’s a definite improvement.

I go on and apply a tinted moisturiser, which allows the splattering of freckles across my nose and cheeks to shine through. Then I apply some bronzer to liven up my cheeks, and dust them with a light peachy-pink blush on the apples. Next, I grab my Charlotte Tilbury Pillow Talk cream eyeshadow and apply it to my lids. Ah! I’m coming back to life now—the nude-pink colour livens up my skin and works so well with my red hair. I apply eyeliner and mascara and fluff up my brows. Finally, I select a lipstick for this morning, going with Charlotte’s Lip Blur in Rose Blur for a pretty deep rose-pink lip.

I put my make-up down and critically survey myself. Definitely a zombie no more. I’ve put on a fitted black T-shirt that reveals a sliver of skin right before you get to the waistband of my white flared jeans, paired with Adidas trainers. I select my signature perfume, a boutique blend of honey, rum, vanilla, and cinnamon. I had it made by a perfumer in Knightsbridge named Beatrice Knight, and man, does this woman know her scents.

I picture Bea for a moment, and my spirits sink a little bit. She’s so young—my age—but is already making a reputation as one of the best perfumers in London. Just like Bella is making a name for herself as a champion for self-acceptance, standing up against online bullying, and promoting a love of literature to children. Now Amelia is making strides towards her dreams by working at Wintersmith Hall, and Aimee is already on her path, too.

I lift my gaze to look myself in the face in the mirror.

I’m still floundering, working in my family’s gift shop because I’m too paralysed to try anything else.

I’ve got to find a way to break through this,I think, anxiety gripping me.I’ve got to find a way to carve out a future for myself, outside of working at the estate in Dorset.

If only I knew how.

Well, that’s not a problem I care to find a resolution for whilst getting ready for a date with Noah, so I put it aside for now.

But I vow to be brave enough to come back to it tonight. Perhaps it’s something I can share with Bella and see what she thinks.

I leave the bathroom and turn off the light. I pause to grab my bag off the end of my bed and trot downstairs, excited to head over to Belgravia for a cup of coffee with Noah.

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