Page 115 of The Rest is History
I shrug sadly. ‘That’s about the gist of it.’
‘Will you keep doing this job?’ Rebekah asks.
‘Yeah,’ Lauren adds, ‘because none of us would blame you if you ran for the hills. But we want you to stay.’
I hesitate. ‘I’ve been thinking about it a lot. Everything’s up in the air at the moment, but my teaching job ends next month—it was just maternity cover.’ I shrug. ‘So I’ll probably look at going back to London. And who am I kidding? There’s no way I can see Charlie every weekend. Interact with him. It’ll kill me. A clean break is best, I think.’
‘Ugh,’ Shelby groans. ‘Fucking men. Why do they have to fuck everything up? That’s miserable, babes. We’ll miss you so much.’
‘He paid for Olive’s school fees for the whole of next year,’ I say. ‘It’s a lot of money. Like, a lot. He told me it was so I’d have options. So I wouldn’t have to keep helping my sister out financially, and so I could afford to give this gig up if I wanted to.’
They’re all silent for a moment. Then Tess says quietly, ‘That was a thoroughly decent thing to do. I knew Charlie was one of the good ones, even if he’s a little misguided at the moment.’
‘Yeah,’ Shelby says. ‘It’s much easier to hate them when they’re a dick.’
Rebekah raises her glass. ‘Cheers to that. You’re still coming toSix, though, right?’
I freeze in horror. ‘Oh my God. I totally forgot about that. Shit. There’s no way I can come. I gave my tickets to Grace and Olive—I was going to take Charlie’s second ticket.’ Obviously, going along as Charlie’s date is not the remotest option.
Tess puts a hand on my arm. ‘How about this? You take my ticket and sit with these ladies. I’ll go with Charlie. We all know he’ll grumble the whole way through it, anyway.’
CHAPTER 41
Elodie
Sixis actually amazing. The weather is boiling, and the Hampton Court Summer Festival brings the palace to life. We spend a heavenly Sunday evening drinking plastic tumblers of rosé and eating crepes from the stalls lining the pathways to the Great Fountain. We all buySorry not Sorryt-shirts and put them on, screaming and clapping our way through the performance.
The show blows our minds, and not just because the outdoor stage is set up right in the beating heart of the palace, in Base Court. It’s so smart, so sassy, and so filled with incredible female energy that it’s a baptism of sorts for me.
Yes, I came to the palace at Charlie’s suggestion, and I fell head over heels for this man playing my king, and I opened myself up to him so fully that I allowed him to cut my heart wide open when he walked away.
ButSixreminds me that I can change the narrative. The queens make it clear that this is their story, not Henry’s story, and that the tales they have to tell are as valid, as important, as his.
This is not just Charlie’s story. It’s easy to feel like I’ve been a puppet, cast aside and powerless.
But that’s not how I choose to see things.
Not anymore.
This is my story, and having my heart broken by Charlie Vaughan is not how it ends. It’s merely the start of a new chapter for me.
I can do this.
I walk into Philly Willy’s office. He smiles broadly from behind his desk.
‘Elodie. Thanks for coming. Have a seat.’
‘Of course,’ I say. I have no idea why he’s invited me in here. I’ve had surprisingly little interaction with him, and I’m happy to keep it that way. He’s a lovely guy, but I’m painfully aware he’s a close friend of Charlie’s, and it’s mortifying to think he may see me as the woman Charlie chewed up and spat out.
He leans forward, palms on his desk. ‘I’ll cut to the chase. I’d like to offer you a permanent position next year, if you haven’t made alternate arrangements.’
I blink. I wasnotexpecting that. My mind’s reeling.
‘Is Amanda not coming back?’ I ask.
He shifts in his seat. ‘She is, as far as we know. The thing is, Charlie’s decided to move on.’
I gape.
