We'll Get You Home

1 - Lottie

London. I'm going to London. I need to go to London.

I've been repeating this for an hour now, along with a nightmarish replay of the looks of pure hatred coming off everyone in the Ivy Common Room, when Ellie announced her position as heir. Everyone then knew I was a fake, an imposter. Everyone knew I was a no one.

And I was painfully aware of one thing: I'm alone.

I'm all alone.

With nowhere to go.

With no one to turn to.

With nothing to hold on to.

The Wolfsons didn't need me anymore. The phone call, or letter, or person hasn't arrived to tell me that I am of no more use to the Maravish Royal Family. And I don't want to be at Rosewood when it does come.

And besides, no one will let me stay here anyway. Pretending to be a princess for three years doesn't grant you that level of forgiveness.

So there was one solution, and that was to run away. I don't know what was pulling me to London. But it felt like there was a magnetic force, calling me to the crowded city I've never stepped foot in.

So one suitcase was packed. I was only taking one. It would be easier to sneak away with one. It would be easier to find somewhere to stay, and to run away from my problems for the first time in my life. I'd stuffed everything dearest to me in that one suitcase. My fairy tale books, my mother's tiara, a few dresses and other clothes, Mr Truffles, all the photos from before and during my Rosewood life, my sketchbook, the fairly lights from my room, Liliana's sword, and her diary. Somehow it felt like I had less then when I was leaving my old home. Somehow, I wouldn't be able to fill the second suitcase with anything important.

As a last-minute thought, I rummaged for a piece of paper and a pen, quickly scribbling by goodbye.

Binah, Saskia, Anastasia, Lola, Mickey, and Rafael,

I'm so sorry to be leaving like this, but I feel like I need time alone. Please do not look for me or worry about me. I will be okay. I just can't stay at Rosewood. When I am ready, I will come back.

I apologise to most of you reading this that I have not told you the secret me and Ellie shared, but I hope you understand why I had to do this.

You have been amazing friends. The kindest, most supportive, caring, and beautiful friends anyone could have asked for. I am so grateful to have known you. I could have not gotten through the past three years without your never ceasing support and encouragement and kindness.

My deepest love,

Lottie Pumpkin

When I eased my room door open, there was nobody there. Anastasia, Saskia and all my other friends must have left while I was sobbing under my duvet earlier. Hoping, hoping, hoping that everyone else was at dinner, I quickly walked out into the hallway. A floorboard creaked and I stopped, my heart pounding.

Once I was safely outside, I was faced with a disheartening flaw to my plan: how in the world was I going to get to London? I panicked, looking around as if I could a spot an idea. But it worked. I could get my mobile phone. I could take some money I saved from my portman job.

Acting on my hasty idea before I changed my mind, I hid my suitcase in a bush near the office and hoped that my eyes weren't red. Trying as hard as I could to keep calm and natural, I walked in and rang the bell on the desk.

The same lady that was always on reception came out from a door to the side. Her greying brown hair was swirled into an elegant chignon at the base of her head, and her deep green suit gave the impression that she was an extension of the mahogany office.

'How may I help you, Lottie?' She asked me, remembering my name from the couple of times I came in.

'Uh, would it be okay if I could have my mobile phone for a second?'

A quizzical look flashed onto the reception lady's face. 'I'm sorry, dear, but I can't give you your phone without a proper reason.'

I wanted to kick myself for not thinking of this. Of course I'd need a reason to go against the school rules and have my phone back. I desperately started thinking. 'Um, well, you see I got a letter from my – uh – my aunt. Family matters. And I need to call her.'

The reception lady was about to say something when I remembered there's a phone specifically for these things available to students.

'But she's a very private person, and she doesn't answer unknown numbers. I never told her what phone number I'll be calling from.' I hoped I didn't sound too rude or suspicious, so I smiled shyly.

'Well, I assume you can have your phone back for five minutes. May I have your full name, please?' The reception lady logged onto her computer and started furiously typing.

'Lottie Pumpkin'

'Thank you. I'll be right back.' She then went back into the door she came from. I looked around the office, trying to calm my nerves. To one side there was a pair of seats a creamy grey, and above them a diamond framed mirror. I walked to it and stared at my reflection. The reception lady must have felt bad for me, as my eyes were still red and glassy, and my cheeks ghostly pale. I walked back to my spot in front of the desk just as the reception lady was coming out. She held out my old mobile phone, still in its pink glittery sleeping beauty case. It felt like an alien object in my hand when I reached out to grab it.

'Thank you,' I said, expecting the reception lady to go back into the other room. When she didn't, I added 'May I have a little bit of privacy, please?'

Hesitantly, the reception lady retreated into the other room. 'Of course.'

As soon as she left, I bolted out of office, pulling my suitcase out of the bushes, and awkwardly jogging to the main gate. A car had just been admitted entry and the gate wasn't closed. I took this opportunity to sprint through it. With the wind rushing past my ears, the adrenalin pumping in my veins and the clack-clack of my suitcase, I was sure I misheard the voice.

'Lottie!' They shouted again, this time closer. Something made me want to stop, but the gate was slowly easing closed, and I was only a few metres away from it. With one final adrenalin-fuelled push, I make it out of the gate just in time to hear it squeak close.

'Lottie!' I hear the voice again, this time unable to stop myself from looking back. The car had stopped halfway up the driveway. One of the back doors opened, and I almost fainted seeing who it was. Two guards ran up to the voice, grabbing him. He tried to thrash and get away from their grip, but the guards were better trained than him.

I could see how his eyes locked onto mine, the golden flecks standing out in the dwindling rays of the setting sun. Hot tears welled up in my eyes, and my heart felt like it might break. The boy was being dragged back to the car. I could see he was trying hard not to cry himself. I could see the urgency in his voice, the desperation to be set free.

Abandoning my suitcase, I ran up to the gate, uselessly looking through its bars as the boy was nearing the car.

Through a sob, I cried out, 'Jamie!'

He was back.