The World According to Jessie

Chapter Twenty Three

"...Back in the big city, God I hate it already!"

Turns out that sleeping through your alarm is not the smartest thing to do when you've got a five-hour drive ahead of you. It is also not smart to forget that you have a gorgeous Greek God of a man in bed next to you. Simon earned himself a swift elbow in the ribs as I jumped over him to reach the screeching piece of electronic tat. After the Man Whore (meant with love) talked me into a "Goodbye for Now" session, shall we say, I finally threw him out and started getting myself ready to leave Mahoney Towers and the place I called home. Shit was not the word for how I felt that morning. As soon as my cases were packed, I just stood in the middle of my bedroom looking around at the time capsule that it was. I almost ripped down my Take That poster to take it with me for old times sake, but decided against it. It wouldn't be long before I was back here anyway would it?

Saying goodbye was harder than ever this time around. Firstly, there was no Lillian to grab a hold of my leg, begging me to stay and yell at me for becoming "a Southerner". That made my heart sink quicker than the Titanic. I hated to admit how much I missed her. She wasn't my Aunt; she was my sister in all but name. I even berated myself for those times I called her rotten for dragging me out all those Saturday nights. I just wanted a hug, a great big rib crushing, never ending hug that I would forget in a hurry. Grandma Nicki's tears flowed more than normal as did mine, Granddad Mel had to be pulled off me and Mum and Dad gave me the "drive home safely" speech until I actually got into the car.

All the way down the motorway I sobbed. Not afraid to admit that. When I stopped halfway for a much-needed coffee, I hid in the toilets so people didn't see my puffy eyes. It was stupid to get so emotional; I would be back in a few weeks as soon as I sorted myself out. I pulled myself together and left the services and headed onto the motorway once again. I was surprised I made it back into London through the foggy, wet eyes that had accompanied me all the way down. As I pulled into the tiny parking space afforded by the Landlord, I looked up at The Box and cried again. This wasn't home. It was a Hell Hole disguised as an overpriced, under furnished flat that I only took tenancy on because it was all I could afford.

Upon entering said building, I felt nothing but coldness. There was no massive hug to welcome me home, just a pile of unread letters, a hundred and one answer phone messages and a bunch of rubbish to clear up. Obviously, London friend had been using The Box to hold his infamous parties. I didn't drink Vodka as a rule, so the empty bottle in the sink certainly wasn't mine. I looked around in despair, throwing my bags onto the floor and sofa respectively. This was the most depressing sight I had ever faced. I could feel the tears welling in my eyes again and I wished more than anything that Grandma Nicki would burst through the door with a cup of tea in her hand. I hated every inch of this place and I hadn't been back two minutes.

After about an hour, I couldn't take siting in the crap any longer. I cleaned up with a vigorous passion I usually only reserved for writing or activities with Simon. Beautiful, caring Simon who was now hundreds of miles away. I honestly didn't think my tear ducts could produce any more water but they did. Everything I threw into the rubbish bin caused another emotional outburst. I checked the date and it certainly wasn't my time of the month. I was just...unhappy. London made me unhappy. This was a realisation that hit like a ton of bricks causing me to flop down onto my sofa.

I phoned Simon that night. I cried down the phone at him, repeatedly telling him that I loved him and I wanted to be back there with him. He eventually calmed me down (seriously he had to start that kind of conversation) and let me know that I was loved enough to bring me back to reality. I lay in bed looking up at the blank celling, bemoaning the loss of Take That's eyes staring back at me. Nothing about this place felt like home. I couldn't even write because I forgot which suitcase I put my laptop charger in and I hadn't unpacked yet. I could get it but I didn't want to get up for risk of crying again. I closed my eyes as Simon had instructed and let images of our night at the Casino and the beach enter my head. I fell asleep smiling...