Page 231 of Falling for You

‘I’m going to be moving soon,’ I say lamely. ‘I probably won’t get a wardrobe as big as mine, so I thought it would be a good time to sort everything out.’

I actually felt a bit disgusted at the sight of my bright, optimistic clothes when I woke up yesterday morning. It felt like they were all laughing at me, sniggering at how I’d fallen for their whimsical charm all these years and skipped through life thinking that everything would just fall into place. My stupid notebook was open on my desk. Half the page was filled with delicate strokes and details on Stevie’s outfit, the other side with scribbles of how I could make my business work if I did it full-time.

I threw it all in the bin.

‘Did you sell them?’

I frown. ‘Sell what?’

‘Your clothes.’ She takes a long drag and releases the smoke into the air in a slow, steady stream.

‘Oh,’ I say. ‘No. I just gave them to charity. Or I’m going to. I haven’t got round to it yet.’

She knits her brow. ‘Why aren’t you selling them?’ Shesays it deadpan, like I’ve just tried to tell her that the sky isn’t blue.

‘Nobody would want my stuff,’ I laugh.

‘People buy your clothes all the time.’

‘Yeah, but,’ I shrug, feeling my face burn, ‘that’s like the odd thing.’

She looks at me for a moment, narrowing her eyes. ‘Well,’ she says eventually. ‘I guess we need to celebrate, then!’ She pushes herself to her feet and makes her way back to the kitchen.

‘What are you doing?’ I call after her.

‘Champagne!’ she shouts back at me. ‘I’m sure we have some somewhere.’

‘It’s not even nine in the morning!’ I laugh.

I hear her tut and I roll my eyes, trying to shake the uneasiness that’s filling my body. I open my laptop as my phone vibrates and a message from an unknown number pops onto my screen.

Hi, Annie! My name is Max, Stevie gave me your number, we work in the clubs together (I’m a queen!). He said you made his costume, I’d love to work with you. Are you free this week for a coffee and chat?

I look down at the message, my skin feeling too small for my body. Normally, a message like this would fire me up. I’d be straight on the phone, and then spend hours all week designing and creating the perfect costume. But now, I just feel numb. If anything, I feel as though I could burst into tears.

‘Oh,’ Pam calls, breaking me out of my thoughts. ‘Isuppose I’ll ask Rodney to get some paperwork drawn up.’ She pokes her head around the door to the kitchen. ‘If you’re sure about this, Annie?’

I tuck my phone away, switching it to silent.

‘I’m sure.’

‘I don’t like this,’ Penny says, her eyes narrowed at me, ‘I don’t like this at all.’

I laugh, folding up another jumper and placing it in a box.

Pam gave me some time off before starting my new job, and it’s the week before the three of us leave our perfect little flat. So, instead of sitting around feeling sorry for myself and panicking about where I was going to live, I decided to go home and spend a week with my parents. I could give the clothes I made to Mum (after speaking to Pam, I couldn’t bring myself to drop them at a charity shop, never to see them again), and spend some time looking at flats online and working out my finances with Dad. Because that’s what dads are for, right?

But it does mean that I had to tell Tanya and Penny that I was moving out a week early. Which, needless to say, did not go down well.

‘Well, I don’t like it either,’ I say, trying to sound pragmatic. ‘But it just makes sense. If it were up to me then I’d stay in this flat with you both until we were eighty.’

‘Me too.’

I hit Penny with a pillow as she sticks her bottom lip out at me. ‘Shut up,’ I say. ‘You’re excited to live with Mike, and I’m excited for you! He’s great.’

‘He won’t be able to talk to me about my periods.’

‘He will if he’s a real man.’