Page 27 of The Next Chapter

‘Would you mind?’ I ask Seb.

‘Nah, go for it. It’s been a day.’

I stand up.

‘It really has. But thank you, for driving us here and you know, pretending to be my brother.’ I say the last part in a strange comedy voice that I’ll never use again. ‘You’re a good friend.’

‘I know, I’m amazing. Best friend in the history of best friends. Now go to bed. I’ll wake you up for our early morning kayak. Wow, there’s a sentence I never thought I’d say.’

I stumble towards the bedroom, so worn out that I barely manage to turn my white noise machine on.

I don’t even use my lavender spritz.

No, on the day I’ve seen the woman who gave birth to me, for the first time in thirty years, I collapse face first into my pillow and fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Chapter Four

To Do:

Pitch memoirs to Lola

Survive kayaking

Reply to WhatsApps

Get on top of emails

The room is unnaturally light. It bounces off the white walls as I crack an eye open. I didn’t pull the curtain last night and it’s an absolute miracle that I’ve managed to sleep with the room like this.

There’s obviously something about the country air that’s wearing me out. Even if we haven’t exactly breathed in much of it yet. Probably it’s because I’ve spent the past two weeks not sleeping, I’m catching up.

There’s a thunk from the living area, as if Seb’s closing a cupboard out there. The smell of coffee starts to work its way under the door and if I’m going to go spy kayaking with Lola Starr, coffee is absolutely essential.

I’ve slept face down which means my fringe is basically pointing straight up from my forehead. Bloody thing once again proves to be more trouble than it’s worth as I try to ineffectually get it to go down.

In a life first, I also didn’t follow my complete skincare routine last night. I mean, I’d taken my make-up off, I’m not an animal, but I didn’t use my night serum. I assess the damage in the mirror above the chest of drawers, pressing a hand to my fringe to keep it down. That serum is obviously worth the small fortune I’d paid for it because without it I look like a Victorian opium addict. I let go of my fringe and it springs back upright.

In the end, I do as much damage limitation as I can, the smell of coffee too alluring to keep me busy for long.

‘Morning,’ I call to Seb where he’s over by the kitchen, looking exactly the same as he does every morning. ‘Okay, how do you look like that?’

Seb is wearing outdoor clothes. But they don’t look like any of the outdoor clothes I’ve bought. His are all slick and tailored and track the lines of his body. He looks like Timothée Chalamet in Dune. My outdoor clothes just have so much material in them. So much. I look like I’m wearing a tent.

‘And your hair is all shiny.’

‘Bad hair days are not in my DNA.’

I start drinking the coffee he’s made in big gulps, hopeful that it might restore some sort of equilibrium.

‘We should get down there soon,’ Seb says, ‘the schedule says that it starts at nine. That’s twenty minutes away. Do you want some breakfast?’

The fact that I slept past 8am is a miracle that I don’t have time to dwell on. Twenty minutes. I have twenty minutes to psych myself up for kayaking and seeing Lola again. And my fringe is vertical.

‘No, I’ll just grab a breakfast bar, thanks. I need to get ready. Do you need the bathroom? Or should I go in the bathroom? Had we better draw up a bathroom rota? I knew I should have brough my Sharpies.’ Seb’s hands are on the top of my arms. ‘Get it together, Lily, it’s okay.’

I’m nodding, still cradling my half-drunk coffee in my hands between us.

‘Okay, good,’ he says, talking slowly. ‘Now, as you can see, I’m dressed. You need to go and shower and then get dressed. Got it?’