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In this moment of guilt-induced weakness, I decide now is the time to deliver some good news that I hope will help to lift her spirits. It’s not something I’d planned on doing, but seeing how she looks tonight, I realise the sooner I break it to her, the better. I decide I’m going to let the cat out the bag and tell her about the £25,000.
It’s been playing on my mind constantly these past couple of days, trying to work out what cover story to use to explain where the heck I got this kind of money. My mum isn’t stupid, so I know whatever it is has got to sound convincing. Plus, if I’m being honest, I don’t like to think too much about it because inevitably it leads back to memories of Alex Kingswood and my horrific evening at Claremont Hall last Saturday. The experience had such a negative impact on me, the only way I can cope with it is by pretending it never happened. By compartmentalising the events of that night and pushing it into the dark recesses of my mind, I have been able to carry on as normal and not have a complete breakdown.
So many things were wrong about that night, so many disturbing, unexplainable things happened in that house, the only way to function has been to write it off as a figment of my imagination. I’ve never believed in black magic or the supernatural before, but the vibes coming from that house, from Alex, were unlike anything I’ve ever experienced, and it scared the living shit out of me. If there is a devil incarnate on this earth, then I am convinced he would be it.
Of course, deep down, I know everything that happened was real—the enormous cash deposit in my bank account this morning is testament to that—but I still like to treat the whole sorry saga as some distant bad dream that is better best forgotten.
In a strange way, I see this date with Jack tonight as my reward for choosing the righteous path. I feel like it’s the universe’s way of telling me I made the right decision not to continue down the path I was headed—a path that came dangerously close to selling my body to a stranger for money. No, not a stranger, to a monster from some sort of nightmarish fairy tale. When I think about how close I came to making the biggest mistake of my life, I almost cry with relief to have averted danger.
“What time are you meeting Jack?” Cynthia asks, bringing me back to the current moment.
“Six o’clock.”
She glances at the digital clock on the kitchen wall. “You’d better start thinking about getting ready soon then.”
“Before I do, there’s something I need to tell you.”
“What is it darling?”
I look at the ceiling and take a deep breath. My heart thuds in my ears. “A couple of weeks ago I was stopped in the street by a talent scout from Storm Modelling Agency.”
“Storm?” Mum frowns. “Isn’t that the agency who first discovered Kate Moss?”
“Yeah, I think so. I’m not sure. Anyway, I went to their offices in the West End and signed up with them to do some modelling work.”
Cynthia claps her hands. “Oh, my goodness. That’s wonderful news!”
“Really? It’s just…I know modelling isn’t a very academic career choice, so I didn’t say anything because I thought you might not approve. I know how you want me to get a degree, go to university…”
She takes my hand and smiles, her eyes shining with love. “Darling, don’t be silly. Of course I’ll support you in whatever career choice you make. And modelling is not so bad. If it’s catwalk modelling, then some of that can be the very pinnacle of high art. Honestly, I think this is amazing news. I’m so proud of you!”
“That’s great, because the reason I’m telling you this is…well, the thing is…” I avert my gaze to the floor.God, I hate telling lies…“I went on my first modelling assignment last week at this big old house in the countryside. A photo shoot for an Italian fashion magazine. I didn’t tell you because I wanted it to be a surprise. But anyway, they paid me £25,000.”
Her jaw drops. “No way! Are you kidding?”
“I want you to have all of the money, Mum. I want you to take it all and put it towards your treatment in Germany.”
“Sweetheart, I can’t.” She wipes away a tear. “It’s your money, you earned it. I couldn’t. It would feel like raiding your piggy bank.”
“Please take it. What else would I spend it on?”
“You could invest in your future, get an education. Twenty-five grand would be more than enough to cover your university fees.”
“No, Mum. There’s nothing’s in this world more important than getting you well again, so please, just take the money. Do it for me. Don’t worry about my education, it will take care of itself, I promise. Right now, you’re all that matters to me. You and Freddie.”
She hugs me again and soon we’re both crying and fanning our faces. “What did I do to deserve such a wonderful daughter?” Cynthia whispers. “Jess, honestly, I’m speechless. I don’t know what to say other than thank you, thank you so much! I love you.”
“I love you too. So, so much.”
For what seems eternity, we stand in the middle of the kitchen, holding each other like we never want to let go. Bathed in the warmth of my mother’s arms, I feel a sense of peace I haven’t experienced in ages. It’s like I’m six years old again, and it’s just me and her against the world. Then, swiftly, my sense of calm is replaced by a dull ache in my heart. I can’t afford to be complacent. Yes, it’s great that I managed to get my hands on £25,000, but what now? That was only half the money required for the trip to Germany, so I’ll still need to find a way to get hold of the rest, and I haven’t a clue where from. It’s going to take nothing short of a miracle to find that sort of cash, but one thing’s for sure, I’m done with the sex business and working as an escort. Never, ever again. It just wasn’t worth it.
“What’s going on? Why are you both crying? What made you sad?” We look down to see Freddie standing in the doorway clutching one of his treasured Matchbox cars.
“It’s all right, Kiddo,” I laugh. “Mummy and I are both fine. Don’t worry your little head about us. Hey, that’s a cool car you’re holding. What type is that?”
“It’s a Range Rover,” he declares proudly. “There was a black one following us today as we walked home from school.”
I raise my eyebrows. “What? Oh, don’t be daft. Nobody was following us.”
