It Started With A Tweet(104)

‘I’ve got to go,’ I say getting up. ‘I’m going to head back to your flat. I’ve got something I need to work on. I have an idea for a new job.’





Chapter Thirty-Four

Time since last Internet usage: I don’t know, and I don’t really care .?.?.

I wish I’d had my epiphany a few days ago while I was in still Cumbria, so that I wouldn’t have had to buy two extortionate train fares. My dwindling savings took a further hit of eighty pounds this morning buying a ticket back up north.

It feels so strange to be back here at Manchester Piccadilly, almost four weeks on from when I first arrived. Last time, I was a crumbling shell of a person, and now I’m a woman on a mission.

I spot Rupert’s shiny silver Audi in the pick-up point and he gives me a wave.

I weave my way through the taxi rank and pedestrians to get to him.

‘Hi, thanks for coming to get me,’ I say, as I collapse into the passenger seat.

‘I’m not sure I entirely had a choice. When you use the words “order” and “demand”, it’s not really asking.’

‘Yeah, sorry about that, but I thought you wouldn’t take the afternoon off if I asked politely.’

‘No, I probably wouldn’t have. Luckily for you, the meeting I had scheduled was cancelled, and I’ve been working a lot of overtime of late.’

‘Well, I’m grateful, anyway.’

‘So I take it we’re heading to Cumbria?’ he says.

‘That’s right.’

He sighs. ‘You’re just like your sister – a meddler.’

‘Family trait,’ I say smiling.

Rupert pulls away into the traffic, and I try to relax but I can’t. Getting Rupert to take time off work and drive me there is the easy part of the plan; the hard bit is what’s to come.

*

We make it to Lullamby two hours later, and, thanks to the torrential downpour, there’s no one lining the route to the village as we drive through. We soon turn off down the mud track and I can’t help but smile at the little mailboxes as we drive by.

‘Blimey, it’s a bit different driving in this,’ I say as I grab on to the handle above the window.

‘Yeah, this is exactly what I was talking to Rosie about. This track will need to be paved or smoothed out for guests. It’s this kind of stuff she didn’t take into consideration when she bought this place.’

I wish I hadn’t opened my mouth. I’m trying to bring the two of them back together, not drive them further apart.

We pull into the courtyard and park next to the Land Rover. I get out of the car and notice that Rupert’s still clutching the steering wheel.

‘Come on,’ I say leaning in, my hand resting on my open door. ‘I told you that I have something to talk to you and Rosie about.’

Reluctantly, he gets out and I slam my door shut, before walking towards the cottage. I go to barge it open, only to realise it’s been replaced, and it glides open with a swishing noise that I notice comes from little brushes underneath to stop the draughts.

I walk into the kitchen, and I’m reassured to see that it’s still a complete shambles of broken cupboards and piles of building materials. I’ve only been gone three days, I couldn’t have handled too much change. I hear the radio coming from the lounge and I walk over and poke my head in.

‘Hey, Sis.’

She looks up and almost drops her paint roller in surprise. She puts it back on the tray and runs towards me.

‘Daisy,’ she says, immediately rushing forward, and she’s about to give me a big hug before she stops herself. ‘I don’t want to get you covered in paint.’

I look at her paint-splattered tracksuit and the white flecks all over her face, and I settle with patting her on the shoulder instead.

‘I can’t believe you came back. I feel so awful about what happened between us. I’m so sorry for tricking you into coming here, hiding that phone and ruining your iPhone,’ she says quickly.

I put my hands up to make her stop.

‘It’s OK, really. In the end, you did me a favour. I couldn’t see it while I was here, but I think the digital detox was the best thing that could have happened to me.’

‘It was?’ she says looking confused. ‘I can’t believe you’re really back. I’ve missed you so much. So tell me about your interview. What do the company do?’

‘You’re not going to believe me about the interview, it’s a bit of a long story.’

‘Something tells me that we need to put the kettle on. How did you get here, by the way?’ she asks as she barges past me into the kitchen, ‘Did you walk or .?.?. ?’

She stops dead and I almost bump into her.

There’s no need for her to finish her question as she can see exactly how I arrived.

‘Ru,’ she says quietly. ‘You’re here.’

‘Yep,’ he says, putting his hands into his pockets and staying firmly on the doormat.

‘I made him come,’ I say, causing Rosie’s face to fall with disappointment. I guess she’d hoped he’d come back on his own accord to sort things out.

‘I asked him to come as I wanted him to hear my idea,’ I say.

‘Your idea?’ she says wrinkling her forehead.