Just One Destiny Page 3

  ‘That’s a bit dramatic, isn’t it?’

  ‘Dramatic? You were fucking spying on me, Channing. You hid a camera in my fucking bedroom—’

  ‘Only because I thought you might hurt yourself.’

  ‘Don’t talk bullshit.’

  ‘It’s true. You know you haven’t been yourself lately—’

  ‘I don’t even know why we’re having this conversation,’ Teal said with exaggerated calm. ‘I just want your shit out of my house. End of.’

  Channing sighed noisily on the other end. ‘Fine, I’ll come and get it. But just to let you know I think you’re bang out of order for doing this to me.’

  ‘I don’t give a shit what you think if I’m honest.’

  There was a moment of silence on the other end. ‘I’ll be at yours in half an hour.’

  Teal kept the phone pressed against her ear as she slung her bag over her shoulder and quickly made her way to the exit. She wanted to put as much distance between herself and the train track as possible. ‘Make sure you are.’

  Finding her parked car, Teal slid inside and buried her face in her hands. The adrenaline pumped through her veins causing her to shake. I’ve got to snap out of this. I need to get myself together. I’m going to make a fresh start. It’s what Alana would want. With renewed determination and hope, she started the engine and manoeuvred out of the small carpark. Teal decided to take the long route back home. That way she could clear her head. At least if she was driving her mind wouldn’t be occupied with thoughts of her stupidity.

  When Teal finally turned into her road, she saw Channing was parked outside her house in her blue Mercedes. Channing’s tall lean body stepped out of her car when she saw Teal.

  ‘Can we at least talk?’ Channing said, fixing her hazel eyes on Teal as she brought the car to a standstill and climbed out.

  ‘I have nothing to say to you.’

  ‘I noticed you’ve changed the locks on the house.’ Channing smoothed her dark sleek hair out of her face. ‘Scared I might walk in on you and catch you in the act?’

  Teal inhaled a mouthful of air, letting it fill her lungs before exhaling slowly. She wasn’t going to get drawn into any more dramas with Channing. She didn’t want or need it. ‘I changed the locks because you’re a loose cannon. If you could spy on me, I’d hate to think of what else you might be capable of.’

  ‘Why won’t you believe me? It was for your own good. I’m worried about you,’ Channing said, trailing Teal up the pathway.

  Teal ignored her comment and opened the front door. ‘Your stuff’s already boxed up.’

  ‘Eager much.’ Channing looked at her sternly, as though Teal was a naughty small child. ‘You can’t wait to get rid of me, can you?’

  ‘I thought that was obvious.’

  Channing flicked back a lock of hair that fell across her forehead and narrowed her eyes at Teal. ‘Look, why don’t I call you in a few—’

  ‘I really don’t have the energy for this. I don’t want you to call—’

  ‘Alana would hate for us to be arguing like this.’

  ‘You think Alana would condone what you did? You’re more delusional than I thought.’

  ‘Alana would have understood. She would have given me the benefit of the doubt.’

  Teal had lost count of the times she’d tried to be understanding with Channing. Just the odd thing here and there at first. At the time, Teal had blamed Channing’s behaviour on the mutual grief they both shared. They had both lost a friend who had meant a lot to them. For one night, they had even sought intimate comfort with one another in the hope of filling the empty void that resided in their hearts. Afterwards, Channing went into overdrive. To the point where her constant attention began to suffocate Teal. Channing’s obsession with Teal was driving her insane to the point she could barely think straight. Finding the camera hidden in her wardrobe was the final straw.

  Teal started off down the hallway with Channing close behind. Her heels clicking on the polished floorboards.

  ‘So my stuff’s been relegated to the box room? Out of sight out of mind, eh?’ Channing said as they entered the small room and her gaze fell on a large box in the corner. ‘You shouldn’t have bothered packing it. I could’ve done it myself.’

  ‘It’s quicker this way.’

  ‘For who?’ Channing asked. ‘You or me?’

  ‘For me. I don’t want you here any longer than necessary. Let’s go, I’ll carry the box to your car.’

  Channing followed Teal back outside and opened the car door. Teal placed the box on the seat, slammed the door shut, and was prepared to say a quick, evasive goodbye before heading back inside, but Channing was leaning against the car, in no rush at all.

  ‘I’ll drop by next week to see if you’re feeling any better?’ Channing said with an air of innocence.

  ‘Fortunately, I’m not going to be here.’

  Channing’s inquisitive expression turned suspicious. ‘Oh, going somewhere nice?’

  ‘It’s none of your business.’

  ‘You’re right of course, it isn’t.’ Channing gave her a smile that didn’t touch her eyes. ‘Well, I’ll see you when you get back’

  ‘No, you won’t. You won’t be seeing me ever again.’ Teal gave her a curt nod, turned, and retraced her steps back into her house. As she closed the door, she heard the roar of the engine start up and seconds later, Channing drove off.

  Grateful to have survived that ordeal, Teal slipped out of her jacket and threw it on the closest flat surface she could find. She grabbed the laptop from her bag and took it into the kitchen with her. The light and airy room was spotless.

  The granite counter now only housed a coffee machine and chrome toaster. Channing had taken her wheatgrass grower and juicing machine the same day she left, for which Teal was grateful. It had always looked out of place in the sleek, chrome and black kitchen.

  She opened the fridge door and peered inside. Leftover Chinese takeaway cartons, four bottles of beer and a lone apple that had seen better days, occupied the shelves. No longer would her ‘junk food’ have to compete for space with Channing’s bags of kale for her smoothies, tubs of coconut yoghurt for her breakfast and the rest of the shelves filled with all kinds of exotic fruit and vegetables. Most importantly, she would feel safe in her own home again.

  Now that she had finally got Channing out of her life, it was time to regroup. And fast! If Alana was looking over her, Teal knew she would have been so disappointed. That Teal had chosen a quick way out in her name. From this day forward, Teal would have to draw strength from Alana’s memory and make her proud.

  More determined than ever, Teal grabbed a bottle of beer, flipped the lid, and took a quick swig. She’d reheat the Chinese for dinner later. Upstairs in her bedroom, she changed into jogging bottoms and a t-shirt before settling on her bed with her laptop.

  Scrolling through the messages in her inbox, she saw that there were several responses from Job Finder; a website she had posted on weeks ago when she was searching for an interior designer who could help renovate the property her Aunt had left her in her will. It was a half-hearted decision she had made, before her downward spiral to today’s close call. Now it was a certainty—who was to say there’d be a guardian angel at the station the next time she had a ‘wobble’. The memories of Alana’s presence in her house were far too real. Too raw. When Teal thought about it, she should have sold up and left months ago—moved elsewhere to give herself the chance to erase the part of her life that no longer existed, but she couldn’t have done that any more than she could let go of Alana’s memory.

  Despite being an artist, Teal was incapable of putting home colour schemes together. Her own home had been decorated by a local designer called Lilly Patterson, but when she’d broached the idea of her redecorating the house in the Cotswolds, Lilly had turned her down. She had two small children and didn’t want to disrupt their routines.

  After a few minutes of reading several emails, none of
the respondents seemed very promising. The only people who had shown an interest in the post were either new start-up companies or individuals who were completely out of her price range. She deleted a few of the candidates and turned to the last response on her list. It was from a woman named Carissa Dunne.

  The woman’s introduction letter was simple and to the point. She was enthusiastic about the opportunity to renovate a property and she seemed eager to begin work as soon as possible. Teal clicked on the attachment and waited for the page to load. When it did, she nodded her head in approval at Carissa’s small but impressive portfolio. The dramatic difference in the before and after pictures of properties she had worked on confirmed Carissa was extremely capable. Teal read through her letter again and considered the possibility of meeting with her. She would have preferred someone with a little more on-the-job experience, rather than just an apprenticeship but that would mean going over her budget.

  After a few minutes of internal debating, Teal wrote back to Carissa and asked if she could email Teal her mobile number so that they could have an informal interview over the phone. Teal decided to make her decision after they had spoken.

  Once Teal sent the email she turned to another pressing matter. One that she had been avoiding. Picking up her phone on the bedside table, she dialled in the number for Les Pleasure Magazine.

  ‘Les Pleasure,’ a crisp voice greeted her on the other end of the line.

  ‘Hey, Molly, it’s Teal. Is Barb around?’

  ‘Teal! Long time. How’s it going?’

  ‘Good thanks. Sorry, but I’m in a bit of a rush—’

  ‘No worries, I’ll put you right through.’

  A moment later, Teal was transferred to Barb’s direct line. ‘Hey, Teal,’ Barb greeted. ‘Where’ve you been? You didn’t get back to me about the article I wanted you to write.’

  ‘Yeah, sorry about that,’ Teal said. ‘I was just dealing with a few things … my aunt died.’

  ‘Oh crap. My condolences. Were you close to her?’

  ‘I … yes, yes I was,’ Teal said, not really wanting to go into detail. ‘I just needed a little time.’

  ‘I understand. Look, the article I need is still available if you’re interested,’ Barb said. ‘I could have another freelancer write it, but I’d really like you to do it.’

  ‘Do I get to choose the topic?’

  ‘Nope, we already have the subject matter in mind for next month’s publication.’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘How to spice up your sex life,’ Barb replied. ‘The best positions that work for lesbians.’

  ‘Really?’ Teal suppressed a groan as she imagined Barb sitting at her desk, scrunching her mass of purple frizzy hair as she spoke. ‘It’s been done to death. How about something a little more socially conscious? I could do a great piece on lesbian parenting or transgender—’

  ‘Uh … that sounds great, Teal, but that’s not the tone we want for this particular piece.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Let’s just say they sound a little too heavy. I’m looking for light and upbeat. You know, fun articles.’

  ‘Fun articles?’

  ‘Yes,’ Barb replied. ‘Like the article you wrote a few months ago. The one about first dates. It was a major hit with our readers. Especially the younger ones.’

  ‘I’m sure—’

  ‘Anyway, that’s what I’m looking for,’ Barb interrupted. ‘So, should I pencil you in as the writer for that piece?’

  Teal stared at her laptop screen and nodded. It wasn’t as if she was getting anywhere with her art. ‘Sure, Barb,’ she said. ‘Pencil me in.’

  Chapter Three

  ‘Carissa, where are you?’

  ‘In the kitchen, Mum,’ Carissa replied. She picked at the biscuit crumbs on her plate while she scrolled down her computer screen.

  Deidre’s heels clicked on the parquet floor as she walked into the kitchen. It was only eleven in the morning, but Deirdre was dressed to the nines in a figure-hugging black dress, black stilettos, and a white Burberry coat. ‘Morning, darling. Sleep well?’

  Carissa shrugged non-committedly. If she told her mother the truth—that she had tossed and turned all night because she was frightened to death about what the future held for her— Deirdre would have hauled her to the doctor to get her some anxiety tablets. That wasn’t what she needed. What she needed was her old life back. The one with Lara in it.

  ‘I bought you some croissants from Marcel’s.’ Deirdre dropped a white packet on the table.

  ‘Oh … thanks.’ Carissa grinned sheepishly. ‘But I already ate a packet of biscuits.’

  ‘Naughty girl.’ Deirdre smiled. ‘You should have joined us for breakfast. Mick would love to meet you.’

  Carissa looked up from her computer. ‘We’ve already met, when I bumped into you outside the Ritz hotel.’

  ‘Oh, sweetheart, who can remember what happened six months ago?’ Deirdre laughed.

  Carissa glanced at her phone. There were no messages or missed calls. She put the computer into sleep mode and with a sigh closed the lid.

  ‘Is there something bothering you? Apart from the obvious, I mean.’

  Carissa rested her head on one arm and glanced at her mother while resisting the urge to check her phone again. ‘There’s this job I really want but the client still hasn’t contacted me. She sent me an email a few days ago asking for my number and I replied immediately, but she still hasn’t got back to me.’

  ‘What’s the job?’

  ‘Renovating a four-bedroom house in the Cotswolds.’

  ‘The Cotswolds?’

  ‘Yes. I’ve done some research and it’s this amazingly beautiful little village.’

  ‘Wouldn’t you have to move there temporarily if you get this job?’ Deirdre asked.

  ‘Yeah, but it wouldn’t be forever. Just how long it took to finish the design. The main thing is I’ll have money in my pocket and something to put on my CV.’

  ‘Oh, Carissa,’ Deirdre said, her voice tilting towards disappointment. ‘But why leave London for a job, and a temporary one at that? You’d be much better off staying right here and getting a job in the city. You know I’d be more than happy to help.’

  ‘I know,’ Carissa said. ‘And I appreciate it, but even if by some miracle I manage to get a big city job, I can’t afford to live in London by myself.’

  ‘You know you’re more than welcome to stay here until Lara comes back.’

  Carissa groaned in frustration. ‘Mum, will you stop? She’s not coming back and even if she does … she’s not coming back to me okay?’

  Deirdre’s big brown eyes widened. ‘I don’t believe that for a second. You and Lara are meant to be together.’

  ‘Mum, no one believes that but you.’

  ‘I understand you’re … a little peeved at her—’

  ‘Peeved?’

  ‘Lara’s a free spirit, darling,’ Deirdre went on, oblivious to Carissa’s aggravated expression. ‘A sensitive, young woman who’s just trying to find herself so that she can be a better person for you.’

  ‘You’re kidding, right?’

  ‘Why would I kid about something like that?’ Deirdre sighed. ‘I’m trying to explain Lara’s viewpoint to you.’

  ‘You know what would be great?’ Carissa asked. ‘If you tried for once to understand my viewpoint? We were together for three years. I gave her three whole years of my life and the best she could do was give me five minutes’ notice before she just up and left.’

  ‘All I’m saying is that you need to be patient.’

  Carissa closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep, calming breath. ‘I was patient. I dealt with her crystals and incense in every room despite the smell irritating my chest. I put up with whatever crazy new “persona” she was trying on for the week. I did it all … because I loved her and understood her need to “express herself”, but now I’m done. It’s time I focused on myself.’

  ‘All right,�
� Deirdre said, throwing up her hands in defeat. ‘I won’t say another word.’

  Carissa studied her mother’s face. The accusation in her eyes was evident to see. She couldn’t believe Deirdre inadvertently blamed her. As if it was her fault for Lara walking out.

  ‘Unbelievable,’ Carissa murmured underneath her breath so Deirdre wouldn’t hear. ‘I think I’m going to read in my room,’ she told her mother, as she picked up her laptop and lukewarm cup of tea.

  She attempted to balance everything in both hands, then her phone rang. Carissa glanced at the screen with a start and saw that it was an unknown number.

  ‘Oh crap,’ she said, setting everything down clumsily on the table before grabbing her phone. ‘Hello?’

  ‘Is that Carissa Dunne?’

  ‘Speaking,’ Carissa said, trying to get her nerves under control as she walked into the hallway to avoid her mother’s curious gaze.

  ‘I’m Teal Adams,’ the woman said. She had a smooth voice and a clipped, confident manner of speaking.

  ‘Oh, uh, hi.’ Carissa squeezed her eyes shut, trying to calm herself so she didn’t sound so breathless. ‘I was expecting a call from you.’

  ‘I would have called sooner,’ Teal replied. ‘But I had to wrap up a few loose ends.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘So, Carissa, going by your CV, you graduated from Kingston University last year?’

  ‘Yes,’ Carissa said. ‘And I completed a six-month work placement with L-designs in my last year.’

  ‘Too bad they went bust,’ Teal said.

  ‘I know. They were a great company.’ Carissa felt her nerves ratchet up a notch. Teal didn’t sound all that impressed.

  Silence.

  ‘I’ve been doing some research on Bibury,’ Carissa blurted out, desperate to reel Teal back in. ‘It’s a beautiful place.’

  ‘It is.’

  ‘The moment I saw the architecture of the buildings, I was inspired,’ Carissa rattled on blindly. ‘The village looked like it was taken out of a John Constable painting. It just made me excited thinking about this job and … I know I don’t have experience, but I can do this. I’m creative, I’m talented, I really need this job and … and … I really need to get out of London.’