You Grow Girl by Belle Henderson

Chapter 1

Events happened in very quick succession.

Like watching a set of dominoes come tumbling down. It took only one to fall and then everything else followed shortly after. Except watching dominoes is quite satisfying and this was more like watching your constipated dog strain for a poo then end up shitting out a pair of your best knickers. It was painful, a bit funny (if it wasn’t happening to your dog) and shocking all at the same time and the worst thing was, I couldn’t do anything to stop it.

The absolutely mortifying thing was, this was my life.

Brandon and I had been together for almost ten years, we had a house together in a trendy location in Coolsbay, well it was his house and I helped him pay the mortgage. His parents gave him a substantial deposit when we moved back home but made sure that my name wasn’t on the mortgage or the deeds. I know, I still kick myself about this now.

He worked in TV, his dream job after studying at university and I think his parents persuaded him to buy a house here to stop us from moving to Bristol, where the TV company was based. Instead, he commuted an hour and a half each day but it didn’t seem to bother him, said it gave him time to think. Maybe we should have moved to Bristol because his plentiful thinking time has led me to where I am today. On Fridays, Brandon and I would get a takeaway, usually Pizza, and on Saturdays we would often go out for a meal along the harbour at one of the fancy restaurants, then afterwards on to a bar for a few drinks. Well, often a few too many drinks which on occasion resulted in drunken fuelled arguments neither of us could much remember. Sometimes we met with friends, sometimes we didn’t. It was nice. Life was good, comfortable and easy until it wasn’t, well not for me anyway.

♣ ♣ ♣

‘Do you think we’re a good match?’ he asked, with his back to me as he continued to wash up, not looking back.

‘Of course, the perfect match. Why do you ask?’ I tilted my head, letting my brown curly hair tickle the side of my face. I wondered why he still had his back turned to me? Why he didn’t look at me when he asked, or when I answered?

I stared at his muscled forearms as they continued to flex as he washed up in our/his Belfast ceramic sink. His cheek length dark hair which was once very long and wavy, swished in time to his movement. We were, at least I thought we were, a very good match.

We met at university in Manchester and we were both studying media, me music and him TV. Even though we were from the same town, we hadn’t properly met until then. I’d seen him about, of course, as Coolsbay is a very small town. He was very easy on the eye with full lips, thick, long surfer-dude hair, dark brown eyes and a strong, athletic build. I’d never had the guts to strike up a conversation with him here, so, when he came up to me in the student bar on the first night of university saying that he recognised me, I was ecstatic.

Within two weeks, after many a drunken, deep and meaningful conversation, and plenty of hungry student sex, we were a firm couple. There’s always that one couple that get together in freshers’ week and end up staying together forever. An unbreakable bond, fused by suddenly becoming a grownup and finding out that you want exactly the same things. You’ve definitely met your drinking match but also your soul mate. It was meant to be. That was us.

Or at least I thought it was.

‘Oh, I don’t know, just wondered. Forget I said anything, Pudding,’ he said.

‘Okay.’

But I couldn’t forget. For the next week I badgered him about it, probably a little too much. He kept saying it was nothing, I was being silly. Until one day, when he was drying the dishes, he said, ‘I’ve bought tickets for a round the world trip.’

My eyes fell to his forearms again and I watched as the muscles tensed and untense with each wipe of the cloth. My heart was in my mouth. He’d bought us tickets to travel the world together, could life get any better? But what about my job? I guess I’d have to tell my dickhead of a boss to do one, that wouldn’t be so hard. Enjoyable even. I’m PA to the senior manager in one of the biggest banks in town and I loathe him. My mind started to wander, fantasising about the many countries we’d visit and the tasty cuisine and scenery we’d get to discover. This was perfect, just what we needed. A bit of adventure away from the boredom of our home town where we knew everyone and every place like the back of our hands. Yes, it would be nice to be strangers in a strange place.

‘What? This is amazing, but how can we afford it? Did you get a summer bonus and not tell me?’ I screeched with excitement as he turned around with his mouth open. Why had all the colour drained from his face? Why wasn’t he excited like me? ‘I knew that new TV series was going to take off,’ I continued, still screeching. ‘What’s it called again? Will you be filming abroad then?’ I asked, trying to make sense of it all, my voice trailing off as I noticed his contorted expression.

‘Oh God, no,’ he snapped. ‘Look, I’ve taken a sabbatical. What I mean is, I’ve bought myself tickets. I’m going, Lottie. I need to go and see the world for a bit, experience new cultures, new people. Everything has gone a bit stagnant recently and I need to spread my wings, just for a while. I’m still so young.’ He hung up the tea towel as my hand flew up to my mouth. He always did the washing and drying up, even if we both cooked, he was good like that. He was kind, respectful and apparently a huge selfish bastard too, despite the washing and drying up.

‘What do you mean?’ I whimpered as my throat began to throb.

‘I’m going, alone, to see the big wide world.’ He nodded as his eyebrows knitted together. I watched his dark hair bounce around on top of his head and I focussed on it, deciding it very much resembled a helmet as I tried to come to terms with what he was telling me.

‘But what about us? You and me?’ I squeaked, blinking back burning tears.

‘I need to do this alone,’ he said, agitated as he began to stack the plates, the posh ones that his mum gave us. His pride and joy. I hated them. They were twee with little birds on, fragile and expensive and we only got them out every Sunday, like an old married couple. I guess he was right, we were a bit stagnant.

‘But, but, but when? How long?’ A strangled voice managed to escape me. He looked at me with something in his eyes I hadn’t seen before in the entire time we had been together, pity. It was pity.

‘Next week. I leave in a week’s time and I’ll be gone for at least six months. I’m sorry.’

‘No, you’re not.’ I shook my head and looked away, a throbbing painful lump now fully formed in my throat.

‘You can stay here until the end of July but then you’ll need to find somewhere else as I’ll be renting it out via an estate agent, Mum and Dad have strongly advised I do this so I’m afraid my hands are tied.’

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, last night we went to our favourite restaurant then met with a friend for drinks. Then after eating a very nice roast cooked by me, he told me he’s going on an around-the-world trip and not only is he leaving me behind, he’s leaving me homeless. Never have I kicked myself so hard for not putting more pressure on him to add me to the mortgage. I deserved to be on the mortgage and the deeds; I’ve contributed for the entire time he’s owned this house, which is almost nine years. But what hurts more is that he’s had this all planned out. But for how long?

‘So that’s it then? You’re breaking up with me and buggering off on a year’s holiday without me,’ I croaked.

‘A minimum of six months,’ he corrected. ‘I need to go and see what else is out there, you get that don’t you, Lottie?’ He looked at me with a grimace, pleadingly almost. He wanted fresh, he wanted fun and apparently, I wasn’t giving that to him anymore.

‘Oh yeah, I get it alright,’ I mumbled to the back of his head, as he retreated into the living room to call his parents and report back to them that he’d done the deed. I bet they were most pleased because they never did like me. I’ve been called grumpy and tempestuous over the years by his father on many occasions just because I didn’t laugh at his awful, sexist jokes. They really didn’t want me as a daughter-in-law. I wouldn’t be surprised if this is all their suggestion.

Brandon can be easily led.

♣ ♣ ♣

The next few hours, weeks and days were a bit of a blur. I remember the twee plates smashing and Brandon shouting and screaming that his toe was cut but I don’t remember exactly how it happened. I assume it was me, it had to be but I just can’t remember the how. For the next few days, I phoned in sick to work and when I eventually returned my boss was there waiting for me with a face like thunder. There was no, are you okay? No concern, just a bombardment of orders that I was expected to follow as his PA/servant/dogsbody.

‘Lottie, finally you’re back.’ My boss boomed. He stood way too close to me with his foul coffee breath and cheese and onion smelling armpits. ‘I’m completely snowed under, I need a conference organising asap, flowers sending and minutes taking in a meeting in five minutes. Not to mention the amount of filing and other general admin that has piled up all because you fancied taking a few days off due to your MENTAL HEALTH.’ His voice got louder and higher at the end of the sentence. He was so unfit that the long sentence and effort of speaking loudly had left him visibly panting. I took a few steps back away from his attempt at belittling me and the smell of his deep-fried armpits.

‘That’s nice,’ I said sarcastically, with a forced smile that felt like it was taking over my entire face. I flicked my hair behind my shoulders and grinned again but this time it was genuine. It was almost as if I was auditioning for the main character in a film and this was her moment to finally be true to herself.

‘Excuse me?’ he said, as his already ham coloured face turned a deeper shade of puce and steam visibly left his ears – or at least that’s how it seemed to me.

‘That’s nice because it’s nice to be busy, isn’t it?’ I leant forward slightly to flick his tie. ‘I hope you enjoy your tasks because there’ll be plenty of them, oh and by the way you smell of crisps and not the nice flavours,’ I continued as I watched his jaw and fists clench in unison. ‘I’ll be off then, bye.’ And with that, I stupidly and manically skipped out of the building.

Relationshipless, homeless and now jobless.