Page 135 of Jessica Beam is a Hot Mess
‘But you chose Leo Frost as an example, Valentina. And that was purely because of your past with him. Admit it!’
Valentina goes quiet on the other end of the phone.
‘Fine . . .’ she sighs eventually. ‘Imayhave let my personal feelings about him cloud my judgement a little.’
‘You definitely did,’ I grumble. ‘And now we’re all paying the price.’
Valentina’s voice wobbles, less confident than I’ve ever heard it. ‘I . . . I really liked him, Jess,’ she says softly. ‘And, well, I’m afraid I’m not used to not getting exactly what I want. I don’t understand why he didn’t want to be with me. I’m super. A successful, strong and attractive woman with everything going for her . . . You’re right, he did apologize to me, but that didn’t change the fact that I was humiliated. Everyone in London knew we were dating, and everyone in London knew that he was screwing other women.’
‘And you wanted him to be taken down a peg or two. You used me to flaming do it! I was your Patsy!’
‘I didn’t think it would turn out like this,’ Valentina protests. ‘And you’re not exactly innocent in this! After your initial misgivings, you went along with fooling Leo very easily.’
I object to that statement, but she’s right. I wassoquick to believe that Leo Frost deserved to be tricked. It all fitted in nicely with every theory Mum had about men and relationships. I was just as ignorant when Mum told me that my dad was nothing more than a lousy charlatan – I didn’t ever question that there was any more to it than that.
‘I am sorry, Jess,’ Valentina says eventually, her tone sincere. ‘I truly am. I think you’ve got a bucketload of talent, and I truly hope that somehow we’ll get to work together in the future.’
I sigh a heavy, sad sigh. ‘Please will you tell Matilda about the injunction? I . . . I can’t face her right now.’
‘Of course. It’s the least I can do.’
‘Thanks.’ I swallow hard. ‘Bye then, Valentina.’
I end the call quickly and immediately burst into tears once more.
* * *
I cry into the pillow for another twenty minutes before I get the energy to go downstairs and find Jamie. He’s sitting at the big kitchen table, sipping coffee and poring over a notebook. I glance at the clock on the wall and notice it’s eleven a.m..
‘Are you not supposed to be in work today?’ I ask.
He shrugs. ‘I pulled a sickie.’
I pour myself some coffee and join him at the table.
‘You didn’t have to do that.’
‘Ah, any excuse I can get.’ He smiles. ‘How you feeling?’
‘Rotten,’ I answer, telling him all about the phone call I just had with Valentina.
‘Is there anything I can do to help?’ His face is sympathetic. ‘Anything at all.’
Instantly, a thought occurs to me.
‘There is something, yes,’ I say, draining the rest of my coffee.
‘Whatever you want.’
‘Will you drive me to Manchester?’
* * *
Half an hour later we’re zooming up the motorway. Due to the fact that I don’t have any of my clothes, I’m wearing my pyjama bottoms and one of Jamie’s T-shirts. Jamie is trying his best to cheer me up with a selection of horror stories from his course at medical school, and by singing me Led Zeppelin songs because his car radio is broken. I try my best to lighten up. I hate not being light. But I can’t do it. All I can do is cry, and when I’m not crying, I think about how shit my life is, then I eat crisps, then I cry again.
When my phone rings, my heart leaps as, for a split second, I think that it might be Leo returning one of my many missed calls. ‘Hello?’ I say, my voice squeaking.
‘Jess, where are you? Are you all right?’
