Sacha was at school, under strict orders to keep her mouth shut. Cheryl was out too, she’d gone to a meeting, or a radio interview or something. To be honest, I wasn’t really listening when she told me, I’d just nodded as she scribbled down her mobile number and told me to ring her if I needed anything. “I’ll be back at about nine tonight” she’d said.
Diana was crying, her little face screwed up and red. I held her, cuddled her, fed her, changed her and still she wouldn’t shut up. I could feel my heart pumping blood around my head and my eyes ached as I collapsed onto Cheryl’s huge leather sofa, Diana still wailing in my arms. I wished that she would shut up, I couldn’t think with all the noise, and I really, really needed to think.
I looked at the clock on my phone and it read 13:30. Nine in the evening felt like forever away, and already I missed her. No, I was just lonely. I didn’t really miss her. This house was just too huge to be alone in, it messes with your mind. Resting Diana in my lap I put my head in my hands and closed my eyes, trying desperately to block out the noise.
My head was in turmoil. What the hell was I doing? How the fcuk did I get here? Only a few days ago I was dancing and sleeping with men for money, and now I was in Cheryl Cole’s south London mansion. How did this happen? I thought back to that night in the club, when Cheryl had insisted that I came home with her. Why? Why would she, of all people, care enough about me to let me into her own home? ‘She’s hurt and lonely’ I told myself, over and over. ‘She doesn’t want to be alone, and that’s all. That’s all.’ I rub my eyes, and look at my phone again. My dad hasn’t called, not that I expected him to. He thought that I’d come running back when I needed someone to look after Diana and Sacha again. He knew that I couldn’t cope on my own. But now I wasn’t alone. For now, at least, I had Cheryl. I tried not to think about when she got bored of us, when she inevitably asked us to leave. That didn’t matter right now.
Diana’s crying finally trailed off, and she wined softly like a kitten. I rocked her slightly, hoping that she would go to sleep properly.
I looked around the room, taking in my beautiful surroundings. The wallpaper was a soft, baby pink and the floor was marble like the rest of the ground floor. There were three huge brown leather sofas practically smothered in lace-covered cushions and a coffee table with copies of both US and UK Vogue as well as several celebrity magazines. I poked at them with my foot and saw a teary photo of Cheryl under the headline ‘LOVE RAT DID IT AGAIN.’ I reached out to the magazine, but suddenly my phone bleeped, and I jumped to look at it, hoping that it would be Cheryl. My heart dropped like a stone. The name on the screen read ‘John.’
“Oh fcuk.” I whispered to Diana “he’s gonna kill me.” My heart beat double time and my hands shook as I picked up my phone and opened the message.
‘Where the fcuk hve u been for the last 2 nights?’
I pause, try and breathe. What do I do? Do I reply? I can’t just ignore him, he’ll kill me. My fingers hover above the keys as I try and decide what to write.
‘sorry im ill b back soon’ I type, my fingers shaking. I find it so hard to lie to him, and it makes me feel sick. I look up at the ceiling, at the silver chandelier with gemmed flowers and curling leaves. I press send. I sigh.
‘when?’ his reply is instant. I can see him now, in his office at the back of the club where the lights were so low that they made your eyes sting, and the air was so stale that it clotted in your lungs. He would sit behind his huge leather topped desk and look at you intently from under his eyebrows, and then hardly glance at your obviously fake ID.
‘I don’t know a week mayb?’ that’ll give me thinking time, at least
‘I need u back nxt weekend. U better b back then or trouble’ I read this text once, twice, imagining him saying it to me, hearing his soft, deep voice in my head.
‘ok’ I type. He doesn’t reply.
Leaving Diana on the sofa I got up and paced around the room like a trapped animal. I have no idea what I’m doing. Maybe I should just leave, go pack my bags, pick Sacha up from school and run away. We could go back home, to Bradford, or anywhere. A new beginning...But that would mean leaving Cheryl, and I can’t, I just can’t, bring myself to do that.
I bite my lip and decide to go look around the rest of the house. Diana is asleep on the sofa, and I’m pretty sure that Cheryl won’t mind. I leave the room and run up the stairs, the shining marble freezing cold on my bare feet. Upstairs there are eight closed doors leading off the landing, each identical light wood. I open the first, and gasp. The room had floor to ceiling windows covering two of the walls, with nothing short of spectacular views over the park and the skyscrapers of the city in the distance. The two remaining walls are covered in shelves stacked full of CDs and old school records. Running a finger over one of the shelves, I see Rihanna, The Beatles, Eminem, Beyonce, Pink Floyd and finally one of Cheryl’s own albums. I resist the urge to take it off the shelf and look at the album cover. By now I know that face so well that I see it every time I close my eyes anyway, and I don’t need a picture to remind me that she is without a doubt the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.
