Chasing Clouds Read online

  Suddenly the door the bathroom burst open and thumped right into her, smashing her in the side. She let out a small whimper, which was drowned out by the clatter of heels on the tiled floor and the high- pitched voices of Christy and Mimi. Without so much as casting a glance around, the two women had walked straight into the cubicles before locking the doors. Elodie heard the bolts slide and thought it best to get out of there immediately.

  “She thinks she’s so much better than us, Meems,” came Christy’s voice, high- pitched and cold. Even though she was slurring slightly Elodie could hear her as clear as a bell.

  “An entire week with her. Ugh, she’s so, what’s the word?” Mimi asked. There was a brief pause before both voices rang out at the same time.

  “Boring,” they both said, laughing spitefully before adding, “Snap!”

  “I mean, look at what she’s wearing, on her boyfriend’s big night as well. She either couldn’t give a shit about him, or doesn’t give a shit about herself,” Christy chided.

  Elodie could feel her heartbeat quicken. She was sure the two women would hear it, thudding away inside her chest.

  “Pathetic, isn’t it? I’ve never been a fan. I don’t know what Tom sees in her. It’s like I’ve always said. ‘Never trust a girl who wouldn’t know what contouring was if it hit her in the face!” Mimi laughed.

  “We should try and set him up with Tina!” Christy exclaimed.

  “He’s never going to dump her, babe. You heard him, right? She’s been with him since day one. He feels like he owes her or something,” Mimi replied.

  It was at these words that Elodie felt a sharp stab of anger laced with hurt. Was Tom only with her out of pity? Because he felt like he owed it to her?

  The sound of toilets flushing brought Elodie back to her senses and before either of the two women had a chance to unlock the doors and emerge from their cubicles Elodie pushed open the door and with purpose strode out of the restaurant and into the street.

  Chapter 4

  Elodie soon found herself back at Betty’s Book Café; she had gravitated there automatically, like a bird flying south for the winter. Her key turned effortlessly in the back door and she slipped inside. Maybe it wasn’t too late to join Steph and Carla. ‘Mind you,’ she thought to herself, ‘I bet they’re really pissed off with me too.’ Elodie sighed; she couldn’t seem to do right for doing wrong. The gnawing feeling of knowing she’d disappointed people really weighed heavily on her heart. There was only one thing for it: she’d have to apologise, sincerely, and hope for the best.

  Elodie paused. She had come in through the back door and had two options: she could turn right and head into the kitchen where there were stairs that led up to the flat that Betty and Steph shared, or she could turn left and through the swing doors that led into the café itself. She decided to try the café first, reasoning that in all probability Steph had most likely left Elodie’s bag there, maybe in case she came back for it but more likely to get it out of the way. Steph’s flat was incredibly small, after all. The café seemed to glow eerily in the dark: the fridges were always left on and they cast a yellow light across the place that changed the feel of the entire café. Elodie crept about, wondering whether Steph would have left her flat door open or not. She hoped that Steph had; that way, if she really hurried she could slap on a bit of makeup, get changed, slip into some heels and be on her way within half an hour.

  It seemed that the quieter Elodie tried to be, the more noise she made. Her eyes struggled in the dimly- lit café. She bumped into a chair: the clattering noise it made cut through the silence and made her jump. She whirled around and in her haste managed to send a vase filled with peonies crashing down onto the floor below.

  “Shit,” she muttered out loud, cursing herself for being so clumsy. Elodie rarely swore, unless the situation really called for it – and this was definitely one of those situations. The vase, which Elodie knew to be one of Betty’s favourites, had cracked neatly in two and lay on the floor; the water it had held now pooled on one of the rugs. Elodie bent down and picked up the broken remnants of the vase. She tossed them in the bin as she headed into the kitchen for something to mop up the mess with. She pushed through the swing door and screamed as something, or someone, jumped out from the shadows. The light flashed on and Elodie was momentarily dazzled. She instinctively raised her hands over her face to protect herself. Instead of being met with some sort of threat, she was met with laughter: hysterical, mirth- filled laughter. She lowered her hands in confusion and saw, to her delight, Steph and Carla stood there. Considering the sight in front of her it was Elodie who should have been the one laughing. Both of her friends wore thick, clay face masks. Carla now had a bright pink face and Steph’s was a sickly yellow colour. They had obviously heard a disturbance and gone down to investigate, as both women had chosen a weapon to defend themselves with. Steph was brandishing one of her mum’s thick, ceramic rolling pins and Carla had opted for one of her skyscraper stiletto heels. Both of them wore their pyjamas and both of them were still laughing uncontrollably.

  “What on earth are you doing here?” Carla asked through stifled giggles. “We thought you were a burglar,” she finished as both women lowered their weapons

  “Long story,” Elodie said, before adding, “why aren’t you two painting the town red?”

  “Long story,” Steph replied. “Despite bringing half of her wardrobe Carla couldn’t find a thing to wear, then after the one millionth outfit choice, she decided that a takeaway, a bottle or two of wine and a film would be far better. Plus, you know, a night out without you just wouldn’t have been as fun.”

  Elodie managed a half- smile. She felt incredibly guilty the two of them had missed their night out, especially now she had turned up out of the blue.

  “So go on, then,” Carla began, but Elodie cut her off before she could finish.

  “You won’t believe what’s happened to me, well you will believe it, actually I don’t think either of you will even be surprised.”

  “Let me guess, Tom took you to McDonald’s and you had to pay for your own Happy Meal?” Steph quipped; her dislike for Tom had intensified considerably over the last few hours.

  “That wouldn’t have been so bad, actually,” Elodie conceded.

  Steph took her arm and guided her now forlorn friend up the stairs with Carla following behind. Once settled back in Steph’s flat Elodie began her tale, starting her story from the moment they’d left the café. Elodie realised that on past occasions, whenever she had confided in her friends she had glossed over the worst parts; she never wanted Steph or Carla to dislike Tom and as a result of that had only ever bestowed on them half- truths and inexact details that shed a more favourable light on him. Taking a moment to wonder why it was that she always felt the need to protect him, she surged on with her story. Carla and Steph never interrupted her; they simply sat there with bated breath, listening to every word that poured out of their friend’s mouth.

  When Elodie finished she took a deep breath. She half- expected them to ask her what the problem was, especially Steph who was extremely matter- of- fact when it came to things like this. She looked in turn at each of them, wishing that someone would say something. She felt like she had been babbling on about Tom and his horribly selfish ways for an eternity now, surely they had something to say about it all?

  “Well, I just have one question,” Steph eventually offered. She twisted a strand of her fiery hair around a long finger contemplatively. “What are you going to do about it?”

  Elodie looked at her blankly. The whole reason she’d spent the last hour giving them a blow- by- blow account was for them to tell her what to do, or at the very least offer her some sort of opinion that would make her decision easier.

  “Well, I was hoping you guys would help me with that,” Elodie confessed.

  Carla got up from the arm of the sofa where she had perched
throughout the entirety of Elodie’s tale and wandered over to the fridge.

  “I’m okay for alcohol,” Elodie said when she saw that Carla had taken out a half- full bottle of wine.

  “You’re having one and that’s that,” Carla replied. “We all are.”

  She poured all three women a glass and, making sure they all had an equal amount, passed them out before sitting back down with her own. Elodie eyed the glass dubiously: she wasn’t entirely sure that drinking would solve her current dilemma. She went to set it down on the coffee table but Carla caught her hand.

  “Honestly El, you’ll feel better after a drink and it’s only a small one. After this evening, no after the last few weeks you’ve had, you deserve it,” Carla said.

  When it was put to her that way Elodie was inclined to agree. She raised the glass to her lips and took a sip of the crisp, cool liquid. Despite being in the company of two other people she allowed herself an internal moment of calm, quiet, alone- time. She closed her eyes and exhaled, unable to help the confusion she felt. She was completely at a loss. Tom wasn’t a bad person; in fact, he was exactly the same as when she’d first met him. He hadn’t changed one bit, so why was he only now beginning to grate on her? She felt weirdly indifferent to Tom: she forced herself to imagine not being with him and found no emotion attached to that thought. She didn’t hate him, far from it, but she had to question whether she was actually in love with him. Was their relationship based on convenience? Did they even really like each other or had they just been together so long that staying together was the easier option? Elodie thought that if she had to ask herself these questions then perhaps the answer was obvious.

  “Ugggghhh,” she groaned, “this is horrible, why is this happening?”

  Elodie ran her fingers through her hair and sighed an exasperated sigh. Steph gave her friend a small smile and sidled closer to her. She put her arm around Elodie and drew her in nearer, Elodie sank into her friend, grateful that she had them to talk to. Steph gave her a little squeeze and Elodie found herself fighting back tears.

  “It’s okay,” Steph said gently, “we’re here for you, whatever you decide to do. Anything you need, anytime, we’re here.”

  Carla nodded her agreement and took another sip of wine. “Why don’t you get an early night?” she suggested, “things might look a little clearer in the morning.”

  Elodie shook her head.

  “No, I need to think. Maybe I should ring him. He’ll be worried sick, I just upped and left, didn’t I?”

  The realisation of what she had done made her feel terrible. If the shoe were on the other foot she would be so upset, so wholly disappointed and probably very angry. Elodie couldn’t reconcile her feelings. On the one hand, she felt hurt that Tom could have got everything so wrong, that he didn’t really know her or, if he did, he didn’t really care. But, on the other hand, she had to question herself. Was she being too demanding? Should she be grateful and, despite how she felt, just put up and shut up? Her mind flashed to Mimi and Christy: what they had said about her was scathingly cruel, they were horrible girls and Elodie had no intention of giving them a second chance now. She couldn’t imagine spending an entire week with them; having to smile sweetly whilst internally screaming didn’t sound like her idea of a good time. But was that Tom’s fault? He couldn’t exactly help who his friends went out with, could he? She groaned again. Everything was a mess and this was all just too much to try and deal with. Maybe she should just go home, talk to Tom and clear the air. She pulled out her phone and scrolled to his name.

  “Put it on speaker,” Carla said, leaning forward.

  This suggestion didn’t go down well as it was met with an icy glare from Steph who shook her head fervently and told Elodie to do no such thing. Carla huffed and settled herself back on the arm of the sofa. Elodie drew the phone up to her ear and listened; her breath caught in her throat as the phone rang.

  “Hi there,” Tom’s smooth voice said, “you’ve reached the voicemail of Tom Wright, leave me a short message and I will try and get back to you.”

  Elodie hung up. She tried again but to no avail. She imagined Tom sat at home, in silence, hurt and upset that he had such a selfish girlfriend. He was probably wondering what he’d done wrong and feeling well and truly sorry for himself. This imaginary scene tugged at Elodie’s heartstrings and she let out a little whimper on his behalf. Elodie hung up and set the phone down on the coffee table. She didn’t want to do this, whatever this was, over voicemail.

  The three friends sat in awkward silence for a few moments, Steph and Carla unable to do much other than simply be there for their friend. A loud buzzing sound broke them from their reverie. Tom’s name and picture flashed up on the screen. Elodie gasped and picked up the phone, she held it up to her face, staring at it, unable to perform the basic task of pressing the answer button. Carla, taking control, grabbed the phone out of Elodie’s hands, answered the call and threw it back to her so quickly that if you had blinked at that precise moment you’d have most likely missed it.

  “Hi Tom,” Elodie said cautiously. There was a brief pause before she tried again. “Tom? Tom? I can’t hear you,” she persisted, her voice getting louder with each word. She stood up and covered her free ear with her other hand; pacing up and down, she called out to him again. Carla and Steph shared a confused look, neither one of them quite sure what exactly was going on. Elodie pointed to Steph’s bedroom and Steph nodded in reply. Elodie mouthed the words ‘Thank you’ and let herself inside, closing the door firmly behind her as she went in.

  Steph’s room was exactly what you would expect. It was simplistic in style, clean, organised and a stark contrast to the rest of the flat, which Betty had decorated in vivid shades of burgundy, red and mauve. Elodie settled herself on Steph’s bed: it was incredibly comfortable, and within a few moments she had found herself kicking off her shoes and reclining into the plump feather down pillows.

  “Tom, are you there?” she asked again. Tom was clearly in a pub: the background noise was deafening and Elodie could barely hear him over it.

  “Hold on a sec, I’m going outside,” Tom said. His words were slurred slightly and Elodie could tell that he’d continued drinking, even after the copious amounts he’d consumed during the meal. This, combined with the noise, meant that Elodie was only just able to decipher what it was he had actually said. She waited; seconds ticked by, and with each one, the background noise grew more faint.

  “What is it?” he asked when he eventually spoke.

  “I just wanted… I just wanted to talk to you. Sorry, are you busy?” Elodie stammered, not entirely sure why she was behaving as if it were her and her alone who was in the wrong.

  “Why would I be at home? I’m celebrating,” Tom cut in abruptly. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you recently El, you’re changing, getting ideas above your station, my mum reckons. You want all these finer things but expect me to go and get them for you. Well, it’s about time I put my foot down El, enough is enough, you either…” He broke off.

  “Put up and shut up?” Elodie asked. She knew these were the words he’d choose. She’d heard his parents use them time and time again; if it wasn’t ‘put up and shut up’, it was ‘like it or lump it.’ Both amounting to the same thing: be grateful for your lot in life. ‘But what if I can’t do that, what if I want more of a lot?’ she thought glumly.

  “Look I’m going back to join the party, you just have a nice night. Think about what I’ve said, El. Most women would kill to be in your shoes, you’d do well to remember that – and before you say anything, it’s not just me who thinks that. All my friends think the same, everyone says you’re punching above your weight.”

  The phone went dead and Tom was gone, presumably to continue drinking with people who thought that he was way too good for Elodie.

  ‘How can he be friends with people like that?’ she thought angrily
, hot tears beginning to sting at her eyes. She took a deep, calming breath and told herself to get a grip. Elodie hated feeling like this. She was out of control emotionally and genuinely had no clue which way she should turn. Elodie couldn’t imagine not being with Tom. They had been together for so long; he had been her first and up until recently, she’d thought her only love. Now, when she tried to look towards her future she saw nothing but a big, glaring question mark hanging over her.

  Chapter 5

  “Elodie?” Steph said, gently shaking her friend by the shoulder, “it’s ten- thirty. I’ve made you some toast and here’s some water. You’ll be dehydrated after last night.”

  Elodie gingerly opened her eyes and squinted at Steph. The overly bright light streaming through the open curtains in Steph’s bedroom was particularly offensive to her; she turned her head and buried her face in the pillow before managing a croaky muffled noise that vaguely resembled a thank you. She wallowed in the darkness there for a few moments before Steph attempted to wake her again.

  “Okay, okay,” Elodie moaned, sitting up and rubbing her eyes sleepily. The twelve hours’ sleep she had just managed hadn’t seemed to refresh her in the slightest; if anything, she felt worse now than she did before her head had hit the pillow.

  Steph handed her a plate stacked high with toast, all with various toppings, none of which appealed to Elodie right then and there.

  “I’m alright for the moment,” she said as she waved the plate away. “I’m not hungry, I’m just…” she trailed off, her voice cracking slightly.

  She felt completely numb. The previous night had seen the three women do nothing but pick at the bones of Elodie’s relationship. Carla and Steph had been reluctant to get too involved at first; they didn’t want a repetition of the argument they’d had in the café. However, one hour and two glasses of wine later, Carla had opened another bottle and they had both offered opinions. For two people so different they were definitely on the same page when it came to Elodie’s relationship with Tom. As usual, Carla had done little to sugar the pill and had told Elodie exactly what she thought. Steph had been the more balanced of the two and had offered Elodie sage advice that any agony aunt would have been proud of. Between the three of them, they’d gone over every detail of Elodie and Tom’s relationship; Carla and Steph quizzed Elodie on everything, not out of nosiness but rather their desire for Elodie to make the right decision.