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“New town?”
“Reb…” I growl.
“Okay, okay,” he holds his hands up in surrender. “But remember you said you’d take it so there’s no take-backs now.”
“Rebel…” I threaten.
“Okay. It’s on the Royal Circus.”
Fuck. My jaw drops open. When I finally manage to recover I start to frantically shake my head no, but Rebel just laughs at me.
“It’s too late, Princess, Phoenix is already picking out her curtains. It’s yours now.” He slides a key towards me across the table and my hand shoots out on autopilot to stop it from clattering to the floor. The weight of the key burns my palm. I can’t accept this; it’s too much. I feel sick.
“Nope, you’re not backing out of this one, Princess. And you can’t run either. I’ll have you microchipped if I have to, so that I don’t lose you again.”
“Microchipped? I’m not a bloody dog!” I cry indignantly.
“Stop running away then. Just say ‘thank you’.”
“Thank you, Reb,” I reluctantly pout.
“And kiss me.”
I flick the remainder of the whipped cream on my spoon at him and tell him not to push his luck. He lunges for me across the table, easily capturing me in his huge embrace, and slides out of his seat to claim me. Just as his lips are about to descend onto mine, I’m saved by Phoenix entering the lounge. She’s carrying her small pull along bag that she takes to the childminder’s for sleepovers, and under her arm is her favourite teddy bear.
“Can we go now? I’m all packed!” She beams and we both laugh.
Charlotte’s Diary
17/12/19
Things have well and truly deteriorated between Cordelia and me. I have no idea how, or more importantly why, but I’m going to have to reach out once again to Baxter to ask for help.
For a while everything was fine. But I noticed that things started to change.
Sure, there was the vitamins and the food, but they felt like sensible changes to make, for the good of me and the baby. But then other little things started to change. At first it was silly: a change to my favourite shampoo brand, the temptation of unhealthy snacks being removed, pop, and even juice, disappearing from the house. And I thought, okay, it’s a bit sly, but she seems to be looking out for us in earnest.
Only, then she wanted to know where I was. At all times. And I thought, maybe she’s just being protective. But pretty soon, she made it very clear that she didn’t want me to go out, at all. She frowned if I used my phone, always demanding I tell her who I was speaking to. Curfews came in, as did ‘screen down time’ where she literally made me hand over all of my tech for the day, twice a week. I felt more stifled than I have in my whole life. I can’t even say that she was treating me like a child because Lizzie and I had never been treated that way by our parents.
I felt completely stifled. Suffocated, actually. I keep trying to convince myself that she has mine and the baby’s best interests at heart, but something feels off.
I’m going to sneak away and try to contact Baxter. I’ll see what he thinks; if I have any other options available to me at all, he’ll know what they are and be able to help.
