She offers everyone a tight-lipped, polite smile as I escort her to one of the living areas I know will be empty.
The moment I close the double doors behind us, the smile vacates her face.
‘Young lady, I don’t know what the hell you think you’re playing at. Trying to embarrass me and your father outta spite.’
I let her words sink in. ‘It wasn’t my intention to embarrass anyone.’
‘By going out to Rapture? Of all places? What was your intention then? Knowing you would be seen there?’
‘I was invited.’
‘By whom?’
‘Some coworkers.’
‘Who would only have invited you knowing your presence there would probably end up on the news bulletin.’
I cross my arms over my chest. ‘I didn’t see it on the news, did you?’
She inhales audibly. She despises my defiance, because it’s one of those rare occasions I’ve not followed her rules.
‘I want you to promise me that you won’t go near Rapture ever again,’ she says. ‘You hear me, Hollie? Your father and I forbid you from going out there.’
It’s a moment before I say, ‘I’m not going to promise anything. You can’t stop me from living my life how I want.’
‘I can take away that apartment. Have you come live under my roof. What possible reason could a girl like you have to spend time in that place?’
I straighten a little. ‘I have high school friends who live there.’
‘Oh, friends you’ve failed to mention until this very moment. I think you went out there because you knew it would piss me off. And I don’t think you like me.’
I’m stunned. It’s not an inaccurate statement, but it’s the first time she’s accused me of not liking her to her face. Ordinarily, I make a point of keeping my head down and complying with her wishes, if only to keep my father happy. Ever since he told me they both want me out of the apartment, I’ve realized whose side he’s on, and it’s not mine.
‘I don’t like you. I don’t like that you married my father. And I don’t like you telling me what I can and can’t do.’
‘Then go back to England and let us get on with our lives in peace.’
Her words sting like a slap in the face, yet they’re not unexpected. That Evelyn wants me gone is no surprise. But to come to my place of work and put on a show, then berate me not in the presence of my father, feels like rubbing salt in a gaping wound.
‘Never ever go out to Rapture again,’ Evelyn breathes, jabbing one finger in my face before she stalks out of the room in her heels, leaving me standing all alone. It occurs to me that she didn’t even notice that most of the furniture in this room is falling apart at the seams.
At seven o’clock, in my apartment, I dim the lights. I’m trying to forget my conversation with Evelyn from earlier. I’ve waxed, plucked, showered, shaved, moisturized, washed my hair, redone my makeup and worn the nicest set of lingerie I own, with a plain shift dress over the top.
By seven-thirty, my knee is bouncing up and down and I’m on my second glass of wine. I put a film on to calm my nerves.
By eight o’clock, I’m pacing around the apartment. I’ve peered out the window into the night.
By nine o’clock, the movie is over. Some of the tealights have gone out. There’s a stinging sensation at the back of my eyeballs. My lip trembles but I do my best to hold the tears inside.
Only an idiot wouldn’t have taken his phone number. I have no way of checking where he is.
My eye makeup barely intact, a familiar sensation stirs in the pit of my belly. A memory, from high school, that I’ve tried but failed to forget. Realising, so often too late, that something was a prank and that I was last in on the joke.
Me sitting here alone? It feels like a prank.
In the bedroom, I slither out of my dress and toss it on the floor, replace it with a comfortable, dusky gray hoodie and Lycra yoga pants before I eat Ben & Jerry’s straight from the tub. Only I’m not even hungry.
I yawn. I take my makeup off and use the same cloth to wipe the tears that find a way out. The ones I’m too exhausted to keep holding inside.
