Guilt & Redemption Ch. 03

For a moment I was tempted. Even now, I wonder what would have happened had Ruth ordered me to join them? But she didn't. She asked me. Milly gave me a look of sheer indifference, and I could see that the last thing she wanted was a little thing like me joining them. So I shook my head.

"No, it's okay, it's like you and Di."

That was the least upsetting thing I could think of saying. The tears did not come until I got to my bedroom.

I had come home early specially to be with her. I was showing how much I loved her, and, yes, yielding to her control; but that, too, was designed to please her. I lay on my bed and cried myself to sleep.

I woke in the early hours, undressed, and got under the covers. I slept but fitfully.

Why was this different from Di? Ruth had always had others. Was I just being a brat? I resolved to try harder, be a better Pixie for her.

In that spirit, about eight, I rose and made breakfast as I used to for her and Di. I knocked before I entered. Milly was in Ruth's arms; they were kissing.

"Thanks darling, such a good girl. See you in a while, don't use all the hot water."

Ruth smiled at me, approvingly. That did a little to help.

I showered and dressed.

As it was a Friday, I was due to work, and by the time I was due to go, they were not up, so I left for the office.

I checked my mobile during the day, but there were no messages.

I got through the day without anyone asking how I was. Last night's event had been a success, and my boss thanked me, saying I was heading for a bonus, which cheered me up.

I got the tube back home in a state of trepidation.

Ruth was writing when I got back, and so I did not disturb her, but got on with supper. She liked to eat about 7:30, but liked a glass of wine an hour earlier, so I took her the drink. She looked up from her computer"

"Mm, thank you my darling, you are such a good girl. Come and have a kiss."

I went, she kissed me; that did feel better.

Over supper she asked my how the day had gone, and seemed a little disconcerted that the rival novelist had had a good evening.

"You're getting too good at this Pixie," she laughed, "you will have to think of ways of giving me an edge."

I'd actually been thinking of that, and the rival had a habit of throwing a little private party after the event, selling tickets in advance, but reserving some on the night. I suggested it to Ruth, who liked the idea, and agreed she should do it. I also suggested that she might take up some of the invitations from the independent radio stations in London, especially LBC's drive time show. I had a contact there, and would, I told her, be happy to chase.

Ruth was something of a snob on such matters. She would do the BBC, but Independents seemed below the salt to her, but when I explained that LBC had a higher proportion of her sort of readers than Radio 4 did, she gave me permission.

Both suggestions turned out to be good ones, and across the next two months, she did a record series of events with rave reviews and, more importantly for the publisher, record sales. One big London bookclub even bought a hundred signed copies on the promise that Ruth would attend their annual dinner. By the end of that month she had sold eight hundred copies and was second in the Times best-sellers list. The publishers were delighted and so was she.

Following up from that, I had an enquiry from a London University with a new creative writing programme asking whether Ruth would be interested in talking to them about an 'opportunity.' I set things up for a dinner out in a nice restaurant in Richmond.

It was a fascinating evening. As it happened Ruth was not interested in becoming a visiting professor, but it turned out that the Dean of the Faculty was aware of my own work and she asked me if I'd be interested in some sessional teaching. The job they were willing to offer Ruth was a day a week, but as I'd be a lot cheaper (she was at least honest) how would I feel about two and a half days? If it worked out, she said, there might be a real job at the end of the year.

For some reason I did not tell Ruth about it, but I did arrange with the publishers to go part-time. They, assuming it was something to do with Ruth's schedule and demands, asked no questions, and as Ruth rarely went in, I was able to do my two-part-time jobs quite happily with no questions asked.

The elephant in the room remained Milly.

Ruth did not speak about that evening, and I felt I could not without sounding like a jealous bitch. What I did notice was that Ruth's desire for me had cooled, and that she was in Oxford more. Even I could see the writing on the wall. I talked with the Dean at the Uni about taking on more work after Easter. She was pleased:

"You're a find, Pixie, your written stuff is good, and the kids seem to like you, you are getting rave reviews on 'rate my prof,' have you looked?"

I blushed, confessing I hadn't. But when I saw what they were saying about me, I was not surprised she offered me a full-time temporary post.

"If it all goes well, Pixie, we'll make you permanent at the end of the year. I have a couple of resignations, and the money will be there for a full-time post. But are you sure you want to come here, you know you could do better?'

I smiled at her and grabbed her hand.

"You've shown faith in me, and that matters, so no, I disagree, I'm not sure I could find a better place for me."

She smiled back.

"As I say, you're a find. If we keep you for five years we'll be doing well. What I don't get, is that with your stellar record, you haven't got an Oxford or a Russell Group post? Still, while there are stupid appointment boards, places like here get a chance. You won't regret it Pixie. If you get some articles out and carry on like this, you could be a full professor in a few years."

I was so happy I could have cried. Instead I hugged the Dean.

"Karen," I said, "you won't regret it."

"I never thought I would, now, sign the thing I'm going to send you. How long a notice do you have to give to the publishers?"

"It's only a month, and I'll see if they want to do some internships for our students."

Karen laughed.

"Well that will do our Employability stats some good. Do you think you can get a deal?"

Not only did I think so, I got it.

Both sides were delighted.

I told Ruth about the deal, but she seemed preoccupied.

A few nights later it came.

Surprisingly, Ruth was already in when I got home.

I poured us both a drink.

She looked serious.

"Pix, this isn't working. I have loved you, but can't carry on like this. Do you understand?"

My tummy sank. I felt sick, so sick that I was frozen.

So swift, so brutal?

"It's just that Milly isn't Di, nor is she you, she wants exclusivity, and will give me the same in return, and I really don't think I can manage without her."

I heard a distant voice say:

"So me or her and it is her?"

It was my voice.

She looked at me.

"You've had a good run darling. I'll give you the deposit and a year's rent for a flat, so you'll be okay that way. But you may have to find another job, so I'll settle a year's salary on you. I just put £25k in your account. If you need more, say, but I'll need you out soon. My friend Marie has a good place you might like, and you'll get it cheap."

And that, it seemed, was that.

I had been going to tell the Publishers on Monday, but instead I found myself summoned to the Head of the Section's office. She looked apologetic.

"Pix, sorry, but we are going to have to let you go. You know you were Ruth's protege, well I'm afraid Ruth has withdrawn her protection."

"Don't I have rights as an employee?" I asked quietly.

"You do, but you know the situation. If you go quietly there will be a pay-off, and we'll keep the internship thing open, I promise."

I felt sorry for her. It was a shitty thing to have to do, and I did, after all, have a job to go to, thanks to my own industriousness. I accepted. She was as good as her word. I got a £5k payout, and they did keep the internships, which helped some of my students into jobs in the industry.

But it was Ruth's ruthlessness which disturbed me. She had no idea I'd got another job to go to, as far as she was concerned, I was still full-time at the Publisher. She thought some cash was all that was needed for a broken heart and a wrecked career; at least I'd have a roof over my head.

I wasn't interested in her friend's flat. The Dean recommended me to a friend, and I ended up renting a small flat in North Acton, a short bus ride from the Uni.

My memories of that time are not clear. As I have said, I am fine if I can focus, but having to do lots of things at once gets me in a muddle.

I can remember phoning Ma. I can't recall my words, but can hers:

"Well, darling, I am glad you are free of the woman. I'll send Ged down to move your stuff into your new place if you like."

Ged was the "man who did," for Ma. Bless him, he came down to London with his van and moved me and my books into the flat. He brought some spare furniture from home for me, and made me nice and comfortable. I bought us a meal at the local pub.

"Your Ma worries about you Miss Pixie," he told me over a pint.

I liked Ged. I'd known him most of my life, and when I was little and had mobility problems, he'd been patient and helped me. Skilled with his hands, he'd made me special splints to support my ankles.

"I like your flat Miss Pixie. Now you have a nice job at the college, will we see more of you at the Big House?"

That, bless him, was his way of asking whether now I was no longer living in sin, I'd feel free to come home. So I told him I hoped so.

I was sad to see him go that evening, but it had been a lovely reminder that there were some good people in the world. I just needed to know more like Karen and fewer like Ruth.

As I settled down for my first night in my new accommodation, it occurred to me that it might be time to meet new people. But how?