Destination India (22 page)

Discombobulate (v.) To confuse or disconcert; upset; frustrate

‘Hi! God, it feels good to be back,’ I said, breezily walking into our shop and dumping my jacket on my chair. My desk looked like it had been taken over by a Barbie princess, judging by the pink fluffy pens and diamanté-framed photos of pug dogs.

‘Hey!’ Kelli said, rushing over to give me a hug. ‘You’re back early!’ She was like a puppy wagging its tail as its owner walked through the front door after a day of work.

‘Good to see you too, Kel!’ I smiled. ‘Where is everyone?’ I glanced around the empty room; it was after nine but there was no sign of Ben or this mysterious Serena.

Kellie shrugged. ‘Dunno.’

I picked up my mobile to call Ben when suddenly the door to the shop swung open and in walked the pair of them, laughing like long-lost friends. Ben stopped and did a double take as he saw me.

‘Georgia?’ His face broke into a genuine, bright smile. He walked over and hugged me, filling my nose with his spicy aftershave. ‘What are you doing back?’

Before I could answer, an attractive blonde stepped out from behind him.

‘Oh hi! You must be Georgia. It’s so nice to finally meet you. I’m Serena. I’ve heard
so
much about you,’ she sang, putting a tray of coffees down on my desk and shaking my hand, limply.

‘Yeah sorry – Georgia, Serena. Serena, Georgia.’ Ben did the introductions and smiled at us both.

‘Hi, nice to meet you too,’ I said, trying not to cough at her sickly sweet perfume clogging the back of my throat.

She was wearing a tight-fitting charcoal-coloured dress that seemed to be moulded to her toned but curvy frame with patent, red, killer heels that I would never be able to walk in. It looked as if her shimmering, highlighted hair had been professionally blow-dried and her teeth professionally whitened. I self-consciously rearranged the New Look blouse I’d owned for years, kicking myself for not making more of an effort this morning. I’d been exhausted after my flight so had gone to bed as soon as I’d got back to my cold and quiet flat last night, and I’d also accidently turned off my early alarm meaning I had overslept. Waking with a start and with no chance to iron anything, I’d hurriedly applied some make-up and pinned my greasy hair back after dousing it in dry shampoo so that I’d be in the office on time. God damn you, jet lag.

‘So, wait, what are you doing back? Is everything OK?’ Ben’s smile turned into a worried frown.

‘Yeah fine, I just decided to come back a little earlier,’ I said wafting my hand in the air. ‘Can I get anyone a cup of tea?’ I offered, not knowing where to start and why I felt so uncomfortable. ‘You know, I couldn’t drink another glass of chai tea if you paid me.’ I laughed lightly and awkwardly.

‘All sorted, thanks.’ Ben nodded at the cups of coffee Serena had brought in with her.

‘OK, just tea for one then,’ I mumbled to myself, plodding to the kitchen and plopping a teabag in the new sparkling mugs hanging neatly from the rack. The old, mismatched mugs had been replaced with colour-coded ones bearing our logo. Not a scummy stain to be seen.

‘Nice mugs!’ I said, in a weird sing-song voice.

Kelli flicked her head up for a millisecond. ‘Yeah. Serena sorted that.’

I nodded, even though she wasn’t looking at me. Was this how cats felt when someone pissed on their territory? I wondered about accidently dropping a mug to the floor but decided against it. I had other much bigger things I needed to sort out … and come clean to Ben about.

‘So, are you free for a quick catch-up meeting today?’ I asked Ben, who was deeply engrossed in his laptop.

He sighed and ran his hands through his hair; he’d had it cut since I’d been away. It suited him. ‘’Fraid not. I wasn’t expecting you so I’ve got a jam-packed day. Maybe tomorrow?’

I felt this weird, disappointed sinking in my stomach. Of course he had to work; he hadn’t known I would be back. I’d just foolishly thought he might have dropped everything he was doing to go for lunch, or even a quick coffee, so I could fill him in. I thought he might have missed me.

I nodded. ‘Yeah, fine. What have you got planned?’ I asked lightly.

Ben was already putting his coat on. ‘I’ve got a dentist appointment.’ He groaned, making Serena let out this girlish giggle that made me bristle.

‘Hey, I take no blame for all those cakes you’ve been eating,’ Serena teased; they looked lost in some private joke then caught my blank expression. ‘You should have seen him with the red velvet cakes I made the other day, like a kid in a candy shop.’

‘No, it was those little white ones with the thick frosting; they were unbelievable,’ Kelli piped up and practically licked her lips.

‘So, you bake?’ I asked Serena.

‘Georgia, you will not believe the things Serena makes. I swear I’ve put on, like, a stone since she started.’ Ben patted his still trim stomach.

‘Oh shush, you look great,’ Serena said touching his arm, leaving her slender hand on his biceps for longer than normal. I gritted my teeth at the sight of it.

Ben shook his head in mirth then turned to face me. ‘We need to watch out. She’ll be leaving us to join the
Great British Bake Off
soon.’ He laughed.

Yeah, I bet she’d love to show off her buns to the nation.

Serena fake blushed and patted her flawless cheeks. ‘Oh stop it!’

I burped down vom. I couldn’t even bake fairy cakes. What was it they said about the way to a man’s heart? Well she seemed to have this worked out.

‘What else are you up to?’ I asked, hoping to turn the conversation away from this cringe fest.

‘Oh yeah, sorry. After that I’ve got a networking lunch over at Media City. I’ll be a while; you know how long these things can take. But let’s get some time together tomorrow?’ He smiled briefly.

‘Sure, well good luck,’ I said.

‘Break a leg, or should that be tooth?’ Serena called out, as Ben walked out the door, laughing at her crap joke.

‘So, how was India?’ Serena breathed, pulling me back from gazing behind Ben and his peachy bum. God, I’d missed that.

‘Erm yeah. It was great.’ I plastered on a fake smile.

‘Excellent. Well I’ve got so much to update you on. Ben and I have been working really hard on the Travel Trade Convention.’

‘Oh, fab,’ I mustered.

I wanted to rush off to the kitchen and whip up a batch of cookies or something to prove that whatever she could do I could do better, but instead I listened to perky Serena chat away about exhibition space and merchandise. Of course Ben wanted Serena here rather than me. Who wouldn’t want to stare at her blemish-free skin, perfectly applied eyeliner and toned upper arms. In my charity-shop suit that bagged around my knees and with my sunscorched hair that didn’t want to obey orders to stay flat, I felt like a bloody leper next to her.

‘What do you think?’ She turned to face me expectantly with her French manicured hands on her hips.

‘Yeah, yeah. Sounds great,’ I mumbled, acting like I’d been paying attention. ‘You know, I’m just going to try and make a start on all these emails waiting for me.’

I sidestepped over to what used to be my desk. Before it had got Serena’d.

‘Did Ben not tell you? After he spoke to you when you were away he passed your emails over to me to deal with. I implemented this new sys –’

‘– system.’ I finished her sentence and nodded. Of course she had.

‘Yep.’ She blushed faintly. God I bet she was the type of woman who knew how to contour her make-up, made a fresh green juice every morning and exercised just for fun. ‘I hope you don’t mind but I’ve suggested a few changes to help with the efficiency levels in here.’ She must have caught my scowl as she quickly added, ‘Just to improve things a little.’

I nodded.

‘Sorry, is this too weird?’ She tilted her head, a look of mock concern on her doll-like face.

‘No. No, it’s fine.’ I smiled tightly. ‘So, my emails then …’

‘Yes! OK, so I’ve replied to the most important ones, checking with Ben first of course. The rest I have sorted into folders for you to work through.’ She pointed to my computer, clicking on the mouse that had been dunked in diamantés since I’d left. A bright screen popped up; there were all my emails but they had been sorted into colour-coded files in order of urgency. Fuck, it looked good.

‘If you have any problems just let me know. I’m sure Ben won’t mind if I use his desk whilst he is out today.’ She smiled and sat on Ben’s chair. ‘So, I’ll be right here if you need me.’

‘Right, thanks.’

I slunked onto my seat but the height was all wrong. I leant under my desk to alter it, quickly wiping the tears from my eyes and taking a deep breath without her or Kelli seeing. Annoyingly her system was super-efficient with everything neatly filed and recorded, and she’d signed off my emails as
Serena DeVere, On Behalf of Miss Georgia Green,
replying to clients in a very professional manner. I did think it was strange that I didn’t have any personal emails in my inbox. I clicked on my junk folder and saw a couple of messages from my parents that had been flagged up to go in there.

‘Erm, Serena?’ I asked.

She bobbed her head up. ‘Yes?’

I cleared my throat. ‘I just wondered where you put any personal emails, as I’ve found a few in junk but wondered if there were any more?’

A flush coloured her cheeks. ‘Oh, sorry, Georgia. I really don’t know. Anything that looked like spam I put in there or in the trash.’

I went to look in the trash section.

‘But I clear that out at the end of every day, sorry.’

I smiled tightly. ‘Not to worry. I’m sure they’ll be back in touch if they were that important.’

I was seething inside, but not wanting to make a scene in front of Kelli, I just took a deep breath and carried on reading through my messages, trying to catch up. My head spun, after just twenty-four hours since India I felt like I’d been pushed out of a gang I’d created.

It was only four p.m. but I’d had enough. Ben hadn’t come back that afternoon; he’d called Serena’s phone as she played with her hair and giggled at something he’d said to her and told us that he would see us tomorrow morning instead. I couldn’t concentrate any more on watching my bright screen that played an irritating jingle every time a message dinged in my inbox, most of them addressed to Serena.

I stood up and pulled my coat on. ‘I’m going to head off.’ I felt like I needed to make up some excuse before leaving. Kelli had left an hour before, having arranged it with Serena yesterday.

‘Oh OK. I’ve got a set of keys so will lock up,’ Serena said sweetly as she looked up from her screen. Course she bloody did. I hoped to God that Ben had vetted her before leaving her in such a position of power. ‘So, I’ll see you tomorrow bright and early! Have a great night,’ Serena chirped.

I mumbled goodbye and sloped off out into the high street, feeling like an alien in the place I’d once called home. I took my time wandering through the streets of Manchester, looking in shop windows and feeling utterly dejected. I didn’t really want to head back to my cold and lonely flat where all that lay waiting for me was unpacking, washing and an empty fridge, but I couldn’t stand being at work any longer either.

I decided to try and see my friends but Shelley had already messaged me that she was going away with Jimmy on a spur-of-the-moment couples trip. I thought
about calling Marie to finally put our fight in the past and see if she wanted to crack open a bottle of wine with me. But I hadn’t heard a peep out of her since our fight and stubbornly I couldn’t be the one to back down first. I called my parents and thankfully my dad answered the phone immediately, perking me up, as he sounded thrilled to hear from me. I trudged to the train station to head over to their house where the promise of a cooked meal and some family love would be the perfect way to end a shitty day.

Retrocede (v.) To go back; recede; retire

‘Shall I open the fizz, Len?’ my mum called out from the kitchen where smells of corned beef and mashed potato wafted into the cosy lounge. ‘We are celebrating after all!’

‘Fizz? You don’t have to go to this trouble just for me being back.’ I laughed.

‘Yeah that would be great, Sheila,’ my dad called back then turned to me, patting the seat cushion next to him. ‘Oh sorry, Georgie, it’s … erm … it’s not just because of you being back. We’ve actually got some news to share with you.’ He blushed and fiddled with the remote control. ‘It’s only the cheap stuff, cava I think. You know I prefer my bitter but your mum got carried away; you know how she is. I’ll let her tell you.’ He tapped the side of his nose. ‘Don’t want to spoil the surprise.’

‘You haven’t told her, have you?’ My mum blustered in holding a tray with three champagne flutes filled to the brim.

‘Tell me what?’ I looked at her quizzically and carefully took a glass.

My mum beamed and beckoned for my dad to stand up next to her. ‘Well, as well as celebrating you being back in one piece –’ she looked up to the heavens as if saying a prayer that I’d survived India ‘– we also wanted to let you know about something very exciting.’

She could hardly contain herself, her tiny size four feet tapping the carpet excitedly. ‘You tell her.’ She nodded to my dad. ‘No, wait I will! OK, so, me and your dad have decided that we’re going to sell the house.’

She paused dramatically scrutinising my face for a reaction.

The sweet bubbles caught at the back of my throat. ‘No! I mean, you can’t! This is your family home, my childhood home. You can’t sell! What about all the memories, the stories in each room? Wait, why are you selling?’ This wasn’t something to celebrate; this was the end of an era!

‘Georgia Louise Green.’ My mum chastised me and huffed.

‘Sorry. I’m just in shock. I never thought you guys would sell this place,’ I apologised, still letting the news sink in. I couldn’t face any more change today.

‘Well, after what happened last year, both with my accident and you and the wedding, then seeing you go off travelling, having the courage to follow your heart to return and open your own successful business, well … we’ve been talking about having our own fun too,’ my dad explained, putting his untouched flute of fizz on the cluttered mantelpiece.

‘Are you in money trouble?’ I asked quietly.

My dad laughed. ‘No, we’ve just realised that we aren’t getting any younger and this place was paid off years ago, so it’s time to spend some of our savings on us. All three of us. Now you’re living in Manchester, and who knows where your business will take you; you could expand to London, Paris, New York …’ He chortled. ‘Well we want to have the freedom to come and see you wherever you go.’

‘But why not take a holiday? I’ve got some great trips for older people,’ I offered as my dad ruffled my hair.

‘We might. But first we want to sell this place, buy something smaller and more manageable, maybe in the city centre, that we could rent out if we did want to go away from home for longer.’

I guessed it made sense. Since my dad had retired and my mum had cut down her hours as a dinner lady, they were free to do as they liked. Still, it was going to sting to think of new people living here, redecorating and putting their mark on the place that all three of us had built together. I had thought they would live here for ever. I had imagined bringing my children here and showing them the height chart my dad had etched on the wall in my bedroom when I was a child. But children were so far from where I was right now that it would be mad to expect them to wait, holding on for something that may never happen.

‘God, sorry, well congratulations. It’s just a shock I guess.’ I raised my glass half-heartedly, realising it was almost empty.

‘Thanks, love; it’s a good thing. We get to be closer to you for one.’ My dad smiled.

‘We’ve seen some lovely two-bed flats not far from you,’ my mum chipped in, pulling out the iPad they’d bought before I went travelling last year just to be able to Skype me. She was quickly pulling up Rightmove and clicking onto her list of saved properties to show me. They looked so happy and excited; it was like being squidged in the middle of two newlyweds planning on buying their first pad together.

‘I’ll carry on with dinner if you want to have a look.’ She thrust the iPad at me and topped up my glass. ‘You look like you could do with a proper meal.’

With my mum in the kitchen humming to herself and my dad popping open a can of bitter and swiping his thick finger over the tablet screen, pointing out the square metres and value they could add, I suddenly wanted to cry.

‘You all right, pet? Sorry if we’ve just landed this on you.’ He gently squeezed my arm and moved the iPad away.

‘No, no, it’s not that.’ I wiped my eyes. ‘I’m happy for you. You deserve to be happy. It’s just that out of the three of us, you two are the only Greens with everything mapped out.’

My dad sat back and tilted his head. ‘What do you mean? Everything going OK at work?’

I sniffed. ‘Yeah, busy as always. It’s just, coming back from India, everything feels different – weird somehow. Like I’m chasing my tail and that real life is on hold. I only moved into Marie’s flat as a short-term thing, but now five months on I’m still there with no plans of moving out. I never see you, or my friends, Ben has fallen in love with Serena and I don’t have a speck of a social life, let alone a love life.’ He shifted in his seat uncomfortably. ‘Sorry, Dad, I don’t mean to bring you down – not today.’

‘Hey, you never bring me down. I’ve noticed you’ve not seemed yourself the last few times we’ve seen each other, but I always thought you liked being super busy. However, if it’s making you unhappy then you need to change something.’

‘I am happy. I can’t believe how successful the business is. I mean for such a new business, we should be living hand-to-mouth, but for some reason people love what we offer. I guess I’m just trying to keep up with demand, making sure everyone goes away happy.’

‘Including the boss,’ he said nodding his head slowly.

‘Yeah, including her.’

‘Well, you know, Georgia, in times like this you need to be brave. Even if you’re not, just pretend to be. I promise you that no one will know the difference. Listen, why don’t you stay over tonight? I’m sure your mum can lend
you some pyjamas and I’ll drive you in to work tomorrow morning,’ he suggested softly.

I nodded. ‘That sounds perfect.’

After stuffing myself at dinner and watching some naff film that had my dad snoring in his armchair the moment the opening credits started, I did feel a little better. I padded up to my childhood room and slumped onto my single bed, still with its pale pink duvet and Robbie the sheep teddy that I used to sleep with every night in homage to Robbie Williams. I wiped off my make-up, put on the PJs that my mum had given me and tucked my legs under myself, trying to drown out my parents’ concerned voices just behind my closed door.

‘I didn’t think she’d be this upset about it,’ my mum said.

‘Well, no one likes change.’

‘Still, she is nearly thirty years old. It’s not right she’s this bothered by it all.’

I shoved my pillow over my ears and tried to drown out their worried tones. Everything was changing and I couldn’t do a thing to stop it.

I slept better than I had in ages, and then woke to the smell of coffee and bacon that gently eased me out of my pit. It took a moment or two to work out where I was when I opened a bleary eye to be met with Take That and Boyzone grinning down at me. I remembered I’d stayed at my parents’ house last night,
probably for the last time ever.
The thought swirled in my mind. I couldn’t find my clothes that I’d left crumpled next to my bed last night so padded downstairs in my mum’s dressing gown that she’d left in the bathroom.

‘Morning, pet!’ My dad grinned. He was wearing an apron with a naked woman on it and pouring milk into two mugs of steaming coffee. ‘How did you sleep?’

I yawned and pecked him on the cheek. ‘Great thanks, you?’

‘I think that bitter knocked me out; I slept like a log. Anyway, I knew you’d be an early riser so I’ve made breakfast. Your mum’s just in the lounge ironing your clothes and I’ve checked the traffic so we can leave in thirty minutes. Here, take this.’ He passed a full plate of buttered, thick, white toast and rashers of crispy bacon to me. I suddenly felt choked up. When was the last time I’d been cooked breakfast – no actually, when was the last time I’d eaten breakfast?

‘Wow. Thanks, Dad; you didn’t need to go to all this trouble.’

‘No trouble for you, Georgia. Right, go and make a start on that and tell your mum hers is on its way.’

I walked out of the kitchen into the lounge where my mum was hunched over the ironing board, half watching morning television. It made my heart swell in a way that being looked after by your parents and home comforts can do. She’d washed and ironed the clothes I was wearing yesterday, and they smelt so fresh and clean. She’d even left out her make-up bag that I could rummage in – luckily this time less gothic rocker and more M&S neutrals. I wolfed down my breakfast and got ready. With my stomach full and a face of war paint, I was ready to start taking back control – Louise style.