Trouble in Paradise (Romantic Suspense, Completed)

Chapter 25

I spent the next two days holed up in my bedroom, ordering stuff for Kat on the internet. Toiletries, underwear, clothing, shoes, a ton of chocolate...all the essentials. Mum had offered up one of her two spare rooms, so at least that was the accommodation sorted. I took the batteries out of the TV remote and turned off my mobile. Kat's phone had gone AWOL, but she'd promised to text me when she got a new one. In the meantime, she had my landline number, and I didn't want to speak to anyone else.

Every time Adam popped into my head, I gave myself a mental slap, and when my virtual cheeks were smarting, I got my emergency bottle of wine out of the cupboard and chugged the whole thing. Tesco would deliver more, and then I'd be free to wallow in misery until I went back to school.

It was a good plan until I remembered—too late—that when my mum got the locks changed, she would of course have got herself an extra key cut.

"Callie! Callie!"

Just what I didn't need. Sympathy. I'd rather have had a dartboard and pictures of Velvet bloody Jones.

"In the bedroom, Mum."

She flung the door open and switched on the light. "Goodness, child, what on earth are you doing in here with all the curtains drawn? It's a beautiful day outside."

"I don't feel well."

She stood back and studied me in the way a scientist would examine particularly interesting bacteria.

"I knew the food out there would disagree with you. Have you taken some Imodium?"

I didn't know what was worse—Mum thinking I had the trots, or having to admit that once again I'd managed to make a complete hash out of my love life. I decided the former would be easier to live with. At least she wouldn't have leaflets made informing everyone I was suffering from an upset stomach. If she found out about Adam, she'd be out looking for a replacement before I could chain her to the radiator.

And I knew there would never be anyone who could compare.

"Yes, Mum. I think the pills are starting to kick in now."

She leaned over and felt my forehead. "You're a little clammy, but you don't have a fever. That's good news, isn't it?"

Fantastic. Nothing could be better.

Mum bustled around, straightening the bedclothes and rearranging the trinkets on my dressing table.

"Have you been drinking plenty?"

I didn't get a chance to reply before she answered her own question.

"I'm sure you haven't. I'll get a jug of water for your nightstand."

Phew. I felt a sense of relief as she left the room, but I knew it would be short-lived. I wouldn't be safe from her questions until the front door closed behind her.

"Have you got enough toilet paper?" she called from the kitchen.

"Yes."

It was just my sanity that was in short supply.

She came back with the water and poured me a glassful. "Drink up, dear."

I wasn't thirsty but I obliged, ever the dutiful daughter.

She pulled the curtains open and studied me. "Are you feeling sick?"

"No, it's just my tummy."

"What else can I do to help? Do you need me to go to the pharmacy for rehydration salts?"

I faked a yawn. "I think I just need some sleep."

"Of course." She patted me on the hand. "You do look pale. I'll pop over again tomorrow to check up on you."