It Started With A Tweet(70)

‘That’s only because it’s not actually work,’ I say. It’s true, we’re getting on pretty well considering we used to be at each other’s throats as teenagers.

‘But that’s the point; it never does feel like work when you’re working for yourself. Think about it. At least I wouldn’t care about your “priceless” tweet.’

‘You’re probably the only person who wouldn’t,’ I say sighing. Perhaps that’ll be my only career option. My thoughts turn back to my chat with Jack yesterday, about starting over on a career, but the thought of it turns my stomach. Could I really do it? And do I really want to?

I turn my attention back to the leaflets in front of me, picking up one for another holiday cottage in the area. I read over it and spot the familiar selling points: family friendly, dog friendly, accessible to walks, and it causes me to sigh.

‘Still haven’t thought of a marketing plan, then?’ asks Rosie, wincing as she knows the answer’s going to be no.

‘Not yet, but give me time,’ I say, thinking that it would be almost impossible to stand out from the crowd in this marketplace. All I can hope, for Rosie’s sake, is that there’s room for one more.

She looks down at the figures again and I can see a slight look of worry. I know she’s pleased that she’s not too far over budget, but she needs to turn a profit as quickly as she can to show Rupert that she made the right decision doing what she did.

‘Oh my God, check out this place,’ I say, my eyes popping out of my head.

‘Wow, that’s like a set from a seventies porno,’ says Rosie, laughing.

‘It even has pampas grass in the front.’

‘Oh, that’s too cool.’

At least that’s one cottage we probably won’t be competing with.

The laughter stops, but Rosie still has a smile on her face, which is nice to see as she’s been so down since Rupert’s visit. She’s only spoken to him once since then and apparently he was monosyllabic.

‘Excuse me, Rosie, can you come and show me where you want the en suite in the attic room?’ asks a builder as he leans down the stairs.

‘Sure thing,’ she says getting up.

‘I think I’m going to head out for a walk,’ I say, hoping that the fresh air will help, and the sun will actually be shining.

‘OK, see you later on.’

I’m wondering if I should leave a note for Jack to say thank you for taking me to Angel Hill yesterday, only I’m not entirely sure what to write. I slip a pen and paper into my pocket in case I think of something on the way.

For once I’ve got no hidden Internet agenda when going for a walk, mainly because I’m all out of ideas, short of divining for Internet wires.

I walk up the drive, past the crumbling wreck of a building that seems to get entombed by nature more and more each day, and past the sheep in the fields. They have it so easy, being moved from one pretty field to another to eat all day. We’ll just gloss over the fact they’re out here in all weathers and eventually will end up on a plate, but until then, they have it so easy in comparison to us humans.

There’s something so comforting watching them spring around; it’s something I’m going to miss when I go back to the real world. I shudder at the thought.

I try to force myself to think about my situation, just as Jack suggested, and I try to contemplate what it is I want from my life.

I’d always thought it would be in London, but ever since Jack put the idea of moving into my head, I can’t seem to get it out. Could I really do it? Could I really leave the big smoke? And where would I go?

I look up at the hills and think there are worse places to be than here, and I’d have the added bonus of being able to stay friends with Jack.

I realise I’m at the mailboxes and I’m delighted when I see a letter from Erica waiting for me. I settle down in a nook in the wall at the far side and read it.



Daisy!!!

It sounds amazing up there. If only work wasn’t so hectic I’d come and visit. In a way, I’m slightly jealous of your digital detox. Without our conversations I’m pretty much spending my time staring longingly at my phone and trying to work out which bits of Kim Kardashian are still real from her Instagram feed – I’m at a loss to find anything .?.?.

I want to see Jack and Alexis. If only you could message me a bloody picture! I need to know EVERYTHING about them, please. Sounds a bit like heaven, being stuck in the middle of nowhere with hot men and no phone. Please tell me you are making progress with at least one, if not both of them. If anyone needs a holiday romance it’s you.

The estate agent came round and we’ve put the flat on the market as of today. I woke up this morning in a massive sense of panic, wondering what I’d done. It’s ironic that I used to wake up in a blind panic wondering how I was ever going to afford my mammoth mortgage and now that problem’s going to disappear with Chris and me taking out a joint mortgage, I’m panicking about sharing it with him. Sometimes I miss the simplicity of our uni days when all we worried about was how drunk we could get on a fiver. Remember when we used to take one five-pound note out of the bank for a night out? LMAO.

BTW?: I did as suggested and put your stuff in my loft. Unfortunately, it still looks like a broom cupboard, but at least everything’s packed up ready for you - if Rosie ever lets you leave!