Page 48 of The Playboy Billionaire

I lean back against the large door, my head dropping back against the wood with a bang. I look out onto the tree-lined street with its expensive parked cars. Samuel has come a long way from the mouldy bedsit we shared in the early days, and I will not be the one to ruin it for him. Daniel is older. He loves his younger toy boy, but Samuel’s chosen career as a dancer does not thrill him. It doesn’t quite fit the image he wants to portray, but I’m in no doubt he loves him, and that is the reason I’ll leave. I’m not sure why I even bothered to come. It’s not like I could stay.

I push off from the door and make my way back down the steps, looking up at Daniel’s window to find him scowling down at me. I wave before turning and heading back to the tube station. This is the wrong side of town, with its tree-lined streets and fancy cars. I need to find somewhere to get washed up. This is not the place.

Stopping off at a cash point, I check my balance, flinching when I see how little is left in my account.

My bills have gone out, but the money I was expecting in will now not arrive. No business, no payments.

Shit, shit, shit.

A quick calculation. I have enough for two days in a cheap hotel, but then…

Thankful for my railcard, I make my way back across town.

I wander around until it is time for the local shops and businesses to open. My clothes reek of smoke, my head hurting from the smell, my lungs tight. A lady in the local charity shop unlocks the door, and I make my way over.

CHAPTER 21

APRIL

The lady turns back as I walk through the door.

“Oh, my dear,” she says, wrinkling her nose as she steps closer.

“Sorry… I got caught in a fire,” I say, my throat constricting around the words both from lack of use and emotion. My eyes fill.

“Oh heavens. You were there? Come in, my lovely. How can I help?” she says, wrapping her arm around my shoulder.

“Ms April?” Another lady appears from the back, her face a picture of horror and shock as she takes me in. I recognise her instantly. It’s Jonah’s Nan, one of my younger students. She brings him to class because his mum and dad work shifts.

“Hi, Dorrie,” I say weakly.

“What on earth? Come in and sit down. Val, this is Ms April, Jonah’s dance teacher. Oh lordy, the fire? Are you okay? I saw it on the news this morning.”

I blink back tears, as I’m led to a chair near the back of the shop.

“Sit down, love,” Val says, my movements delayed as mybrain tries to stay focused. Someone places a cup of steaming tea in my hand as the two women fuss around me.

“We’ve got you.”

I sit and do as I’m told, no longer having the energy to argue as the events of the past few hours finally hit home.

“Let’s get you sorted with some clothes,” Dorrie says, ushering Val into the shop. They move through the rails, grabbing a few items. “I know. We had a new batch of clothes arrive yesterday. They’ve been through the washing machine. I was about to label them up,” she says, disappearing.

I hug the mug of tea, taking small sips as I listen to her crashing and banging.

“Here you go,” she says, coming back with some jeans and a couple of jumpers. Holding them up. They look brand new. “These should fit you,” she says, winking. “Skinny person that you are.”

She rubs a hand over her own generous midriff and laughs.

Val appears with a bag in which she is putting other bits and pieces.

“Some shampoo, conditioner, soap. Rejected Christmas pressies, everyone likes to donate. I’ve also put in some towels. One of the local factories has been giving us their seconds to sell. They’re brand new and perfectly good, if you ask me.”

She takes the clothes Dorrie is holding and folds them into the bag.

“Thank you,” I say, my head struggling to make out what they are saying as exhaustion sets in.

“Oh, honey, you’re in shock. You need to get showered. Is there somewhere you can go?” Val asks, kneeling in front of me, her hand gently squeezing my shoulder.

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