A Beautiful Forever(37)

My laptop is sitting open, so I hit the space bar to wake it up, expecting to find pictures of Paige. I need to set eyes on her, even if it’s just a photo. Instead, the website for the UK Border Agency is on the screen; I've applied for a new Visa.

Bang bang bang! “Come on Elliot! We know you’re home!” I hear on the other side of the door.

I drag my eyes away from the computer screen and go and open the door, standing on the other side is my old Uni friend, Gary, and his wife Stephanie.

“You look like shit,” Gary says as he takes in my appearance.

“Oh my god, Elliot! Did you bathe in bourbon?! You reek!” Stephanie complains, fanning her hand in front of her nose.

“Nice to see you both too,” I deadpan.

“Sorry sweetheart, we just weren’t expecting – well… this,” Stephanie says gesturing at my appearance.

“It’s been a shitty couple of days, come on in,” I say standing to the side.

Stephanie goes straight into my kitchen and tells me she’s going to make a strong pot of coffee. I don’t complain because I really need to check what I did last night. I can’t believe I applied for a Visa while I was off my face. I go into my email and check all the confirmations. I’ve set up my biometric interview and everything. Shit.

Stephanie walks back into the lounge room balancing the three coffees she has made and Gary, who’s been sitting on the other couch watching me curse myself repeatedly, jumps up to help her.

I nod as she places my coffee beside me on the table and continue to wildly scan my application, checking that all the details I gave were correct.

“Elliot,” she starts. “Is there something wrong? Is there something we can do?”

“No just – ” I click through to the last page of my application and let out a steady breath. It’s fine; I didn’t f*ck it up. I sit back on the couch and put my hands on either side of my head, suddenly laughing.

Gary and Stephanie are both looking at me wide eyed, “Everything ok mate?” Gary ventures.

“More than ok, everything is great,” I tell him, smiling like an idiot.

“Well, how was your trip? Oh! What did you think of Naomi – she’s cute huh?” Stephanie asks.

“The trip was… life changing. I’m going back there to live.”

“What!” they both say in unison.

“I met someone on the way over there – not Naomi sorry, but she's a nice girl though - Her name is Paige and she’s staying there indefinitely so I'm going back there for her.”

I tell them about Paige, show them a couple of photos but avoid talking about all the bullshit that kept her there. I don’t want to focus on any of that right now. I just need to focus on getting back to her. The whole process will take around three months, and I need to be patient until then.

As I sit back and drink my coffee, listening to Stephanie and Gary as they catch me up on their lives while I’ve been away, the memory of talking to Paige last night filters back to me. She said she loves me with every fibre of her being. I have to convince her to stop trying to let me go because I don’t want a life without her. I’m not going to let her ruin this.





Chapter 29


Paige


Applying the handbrake as I pull up outside the house, I take a slow steady breath before opening the car door, striding purposefully up the driveway dragging my suitcase behind me, and rapping loudly on the door.

When the door swings open I’m confronted with my mother’s surprised face as she drags her eyes over me, pausing when she reaches my luggage. Her eyes fly back up to mine in question. I’m sure I’m the last person she expected to be opening her door to.

“I need a place to stay. I think it’s the least you can do for me considering…” I tell her boldly, refusing to be polite as I step past her and into her home.

“Of…of course,” she stutters, scrambling down the hallway and opening a door for me. “You…you can stay i-in here,” she says, flicking on the light and standing aside so I can enter her guest room. “The bathroom’s just around the corner, and the kitchen is at the end of the hall. Can I get you anything?” she asks sounding calmer.

“No,” I answer simply, stepping into the room with my suitcase in hand. I turn around to look at her expectant face, an unfriendly glare on mine as I reach out and start to close the door. Before it’s almost clicked shut, I open it slightly, meeting her eyes once again. “This doesn’t change anything,” I affirm. I don’t want her getting any ideas that we’ll be playing happy families any time soon.

“Of course,” she whispers, her eyes swimming with tears as I click the door closed and spin the lock on the other side.

Pulling the covers back on the bed, I remove my shoes and climb in, curling myself into the foetal position as I close my eyes, thinking about everything that has happened this past week.

After collapsing at the airport, Naomi took me back to the flat where I spent every day since then lying on the couch and refusing to move. I was offered my bed back, but I couldn’t bring myself to live there again, not when being there reminds me so much of him. I’ve felt constantly sick and can’t seem to eat. I feel wrong without him and hate myself so much that eventually I had to get out of there. I didn’t tell anyone that I was leaving or where I was going, I just waited until they were all out of the flat and wrote a thank-you note before leaving and driving here. I know - I’m chicken shit, I left a note again.

Why I chose here I do not know, perhaps I’m still trying to punish myself, or perhaps I feel like this is the only place he won’t come to look for me. But for some reason, it’s the only place I could think of.

Despite the fact that he calls me every day, I still haven’t spoken to him since that night he called me drunk - I don’t even know if he remembers our conversation. Instead, when he calls, I watch the words ‘International Call’ blink on my screen and wait for it to go to voicemail then listen to it later.

He says he's coming back to me, but his emotions are still raw right now, and I feel that if I ignore him, he’ll give up and get on with his life. That’s what’s best for both of us. He deserves so much more than what I can give him.

I close my eyes and drift off to sleep, beginning the same cycle that I’ve been following this past week. I don’t know how many days, and nights pass, but I have vague memories of food being offered and conversations being attempted as my parents hover about, not sure what make of the wreck of a daughter who's returned to them.

“Do you think we can talk?” my mother says during one of my more lucid moments. “You’ve been in here for almost a week Paige.”

Rolling away from her, I pull the covers over my head and shut my eyes, attempting to shut her out as well.

“I’ll leave soon, mother. I just haven’t felt up to finding somewhere to stay.”

“No… that’s not what I want. I just want to talk – you can stay as long as you like.”

“Fine – talk.” I say, sitting up dramatically to eye her as she fidgets with a loose thread on her sleeve.

“First I wanted to give you this,” she says placing a pharmacy bag on the bed in front of me. I look at it but don’t bother touching it. “I’m just trying to help – you’ve been so sick since you got here…”

I pick up the bag and put it on the bedside table. “Thank you,” I say flatly.

The loose thread is now tightly wrapped around her finger as she continues to pull at it. “I want to tell you I’m sorry Paige – for everything. I never should have done what I did.”

“What? Thrust me into a life on the street?”

She sucks in her breath, her eyes wide. “You didn’t actually live on the street did you?”

I frown and look at her. I can’t believe how naïve she’s being. “Sometimes yes - I was on the street. Do you even understand what you did to me? I couldn’t just go and stay with a friend, or get a place on my own – I was 15 and $200 was nothing. It barely fed me for a couple of weeks. I was a virgin when I left and within a month, I was letting men use me until they were sick of taking care of me - just so I could sleep inside.”

She’s standing in front of me, her eyes wide in horror, as tears fall down her face while I tell her every gory detail about the life she sent me to. When I tell her about Phoenix, she breaks down, crying so loudly that Daniel comes barrelling in from another room, demanding to know what's happening.

“All I did was tell her the truth,” I say, my voice cool and calm as I level with him.

“Do you know how upset your mother has been this past couple of months?” he starts in on me, defending his wife.

“No Daniel!” my mother calls out, silencing him. “She has every right – I’ve been a horrible mother.”