Wow! What a week I’ve had. It all started last Friday night. Without any warning, Jodie Walton turns up on my doorstep. No text, no message, no Snapchat to say she’s invited herself to Aberystwyth, to announce her arrival. Just sneaky old Jodie trying to take me by surprise. ‘I feel so bad, I’m sorry, Amy,’ she was saying, pretending she felt bad, but really she just wanted to talk about how she was all loved up with Josh, my ex, and rub my nose in it. I’d been really hurt when I first found out – I mean, my best friend and my boyfriend were hooking up. Really? So I tried to get over it by working hard, going out a lot and I met someone else.
It was pitch-black, raining and bloody freezing, but Jodie decides she’s come to the seaside, so wants to walk on the beach. I go along with it to get her out of the flat. I didn’t want to be rude. I mean, she is – was – my best friend, really, so I agreed we’d do a quick walk. My plan was to let her waffle on, feed into her drama for twenty minutes then put her on the train home. She’d asked if she could stay the night, but no way was that happening, so I told her I was going on a date and he might end up staying. I couldn’t tell her anything else about him because I’d promised I wouldn’t tell anyone about us.
I was meeting him later – he never turned up at mine until late, but I wanted to shave my legs and put on my new underwear, and Jodie was holding me up. I kept talking about this date with a hot new guy, but classic Jodie, she didn’t get the hint, and as we walked along the beach she kept banging on about how upset I must be about her and Josh. It was like she wanted me to be hurt! I told her I was totally fine about it. But what she really wanted was for me to still want him, she’s always been like that – only wants what I have.
I was really frustrated, I was dying to tell her my new boyfriend was much older and really gorgeous, but she’d think I was just saying that to pretend I was over Josh and ask to see his photo. I couldn’t show her my phone and the selfie of him lying on my bed with no clothes on. Even though he’s old, he’s still pretty fit, and I knew she’d be SO jealous, but she’d also be straight on the phone to mad Zoe, who’d wet herself over the fact I was having an affair with my lecturer. She’d be all scandalised and rush to tell Mum, saying how sorry she was for her, while having bloody orgasms over it, because for once it wasn’t her daughter in the shit.
I knew Mum would be cool. I mean, for a start, Dave and I looked so cute together, and Mum’s always said I need someone kind and mature who loves me. Josh was kind and he loved me, but he was not mature like Dave, who understood different kinds of wine, and he’d sometimes bring a bottle from his cellar and we’d drink from these glasses my mum bought for me to take to uni. I didn’t want them – I had a fishbowl, you see – but Mum insisted. ‘You’ll be glad of those,’ she’d said and sneaked them into my suitcase. It felt so sophisticated drinking wine from a glass while we talked about books and Dave read his favourite passages to me – Hemingway, Nabokov and Dostoyevsky. We discussed stuff like ‘post-modern interpretation’ and ‘the human condition’ and it was like having a one-on-one tutorial – with sex and alcohol. Awesome!
He’d play me old nineties songs on his phone all the time. I can’t remember them all, but one song was about this guy losing his religion and Dave said it wasn’t about religion at all. He knew what it meant – how awesome is that? Of course the tragedy of all this last Friday night, when Jodie turned up, was that I couldn’t tell her anything about Dave and our amazing relationship. So she thought I was still pining for bloody Josh – and she was being such a smug bitch.
‘I just don’t want to hurt you,’ she said, still going on… and on as we walked along the freezing cold bloody beach. ‘You’ve always been the pretty one, boys always fancy you – but someone really likes me now, and I can’t help that it’s your boyfriend, I’m sorry.’
I’d told her loads of times it was okay, but she just kept going and after half an hour of this, I lost it.
‘I don’t fucking CARE Jodie,’ I yelled. ‘You can have Josh, you’ve always wanted what I have. And you stole my green Urban Decay eyeshadow last year. And don’t try to deny it, I saw it in your bedroom.’ She had looked so shocked, like she had no idea I knew. ‘Anyway, it looks shit on you,’ I added. ‘And I’m glad I live so far away now, because you can’t follow me round like a lost puppy. I let you hang around because I felt sorry for you – and Mum told me I had to – and my friends all hated you, by the way, in fact everyone at school hated you because you’re such a sad cow. But I told them you were okay, harmless. But you aren’t okay, Jodie, and you aren’t harmless. You’ve always copied me – my hair, my clothes, everything I have you want and try to take it, from my fucking best eyeshadow to my boyfriend, who B-T-W will soon realise how boring you are when I’m not around and will dump you. And, babe, stop saying you’re sorry about it, I think we both know, if I wanted him back, I could have him back.’
Okay, I’ll admit that was mean of me, but she’s mean, she just hides it well – and she knows it’s true, that Josh was only with her because he was missing me and she was second best. She’s not happy with grabbing my boyfriend, she wishes she was Mum’s daughter too – always hanging round Mum and creeping, ‘Hey, Kat, let me make you a cup of coffee’, ‘Hey, Kat, watch me do a handstand.’ And Mum’s just nice and mumsy and goes along with it. But me and Richard can’t stand her – or Zoe, we see the way she used to looked at Mum, dead jealous. When I was home, we were always bitching about them when Mum wasn’t around, and Richard’s impersonation of bossy old Zoe is hilarious. She’s controlling, and Jodie’s needy, and pretends to be shy and sweet but always loves a drama that puts her in the middle of the frame. Ugh.
So I know I should probably have stopped there, but I was really pissed off with Jodie’s whining. ‘Just fuck off, Jodie,’ I said, and turned away from her to walk back up the beach. I knew she’d be pretend-crying, trying to play the victim, and so I kept walking. Then suddenly, from nowhere, I heard this screaming and she was lunging at me, and I couldn’t get my breath. She was pulling at my hair and my jacket, and I tried to push her away, but she’d taken me by surprise and she was proper fighting me. I was so surprised I couldn’t fight back.
Even though the tide was out, the ground was wet and we were sliding about on these huge pebbles and I just felt myself fall. And then I hit my head, really hard. I can’t remember much about what happened just after that, I think I must have been semi-conscious because I heard her crying. Then she was sobbing on the phone to her mother and I must have been out for hours because next I heard was Zoe’s bossy voice hissing at Jodie, ‘Do you realise you’ve ruined your life?’ And Jodie was saying, ‘Mum, let’s call the police,’ and Zoe said, ‘Okay, call the police, and you can explain to them why you’re here and your best friend isn’t.’ Next thing, I’m been put into a sleeping bag, they’re dragging me along the beach and I’m being dumped like a sack of potatoes in the back of the car.
‘Are you sure no one’s seen you? Does anyone know you were here with her today?’ Zoe said, all panicky – you could tell by her voice she was shit-scared. ‘Okay, so, as always, I’ll clear up your mess. I’ll have to dump the body off the mountain road.’
I was really scared then, and I thought I was crying, but my body wasn’t doing anything – and I could feel all these things, but I couldn’t move.
Then Zoe told Jodie to take my phone, my room key and my cards out of my bag, and to go back to my flat. ‘She lost her flat key, her room’s unlocked,’ she said, still really freaked out. ‘Good. That should make it easier to get in, even you can’t cock that up,’ her Mum said in a really pissed off voice. ‘In the morning, put some of Amy’s clothes on,’ she said, and now I could hear Jodie retching. It was horrible, and Zoe was yelling. ‘STOP. THIS. NOW!’ Then it all went quiet for a few seconds and Zoe just carried on with her instructions like a bloody robot. ‘You have to make sure none of her flatmates see you, but go out, lock the door, go into Aberystwyth, and take cash from her account – do you know her pin number?’ She said she might be able to work it out. Thing is, me and Jodie always knew the passwords to each other’s phones. I never changed mine because I could always remember it – my birthday. And my bank account PIN is the same – that would’ve been her first guess, and she was right.
Zoe was still talking quite loudly, she sounded mean, and I could just see her in my head, holding Jodie by the shoulders like she used to when she wanted her to listen. ‘Then after you’ve got the money, text Kat to say, “Hi Mum I’m having lunch with the girls,” or whatever Amy would say, because you know what Kat’s like, if she doesn’t hear from her every five minutes she calls the bloody police. ARE YOU LISTENING?’ I heard a whimper, and Zoe started on again. ‘Then when you’ve texted, walk up and down the area near the pier. There are shops and hotels there and who are bound to have CCTV cameras, you have to convince anyone looking at those cameras that you are Amy – bouncy walk, happy smile. Okay?’
I don’t know what happened then, because I felt myself drifting off, but the car was moving. I felt this bumping sensation, and the next thing I know, I’m being dragged from the car by my feet. Even with the noise of the wind I could hear her heavy breathing as Zoe hauled me out, pulled me along the ground. Everything inside me was still locked up, and I couldn’t move. Then I felt the force of her boot in my back and the sensation of falling and rolling. I thought I was dead.
When I woke up, all I could see was this big grey mountain and the odd sheep. Honest to God, I felt like I was in a film and someone was going to shout, ‘It’s a wrap,’ any minute. But no one did, and though I tried to walk, I couldn’t, my leg was bending in the wrong direction and I was in agony.
I must have lay on the ground for days, drifting in and out of sleep. My phone had gone, so I couldn’t call for help and I was all over the place in my head. I was thirsty and I missed my cat, Harry… and my mum. Thinking about Mum and home made me cry.
The Daily Mail said my survival was a fluke, pure luck. Where I landed after being thrown (yeah, cheers, Zoe – not!) I was near a tiny trickling stream of fresh water, and I was able to put my hand out to reach it to drink. Apparently that’s why I’m still here.
It was such a weird time being on my own for so long, it really messed with my head. I kept hearing that old guy from the nineties singing about losing his religion and I wondered if Dave was looking for me. I thought about him a lot when I was dying, alone in the cold on the side of a mountain. I thought about how he used to turn up really late, and we’d have awesome sex and then he’d have to leave SO early in the morning. I was like, ‘Why don’t you just stay in bed, who cares if my flatmates see you?’ But he didn’t want them to know.
It was so funny watching him leave, creeping down the corridor at dawn, scared someone might see him. Once, one of my flatmates did see him – it was Ahmed, I think. He asked me who the old man was and I panicked because Dave said if I told anyone he’d been in my room he’d lose his job – so I said it was my stepdad just dropping something off.
So, now I’m back home, I’m dying to see Dave again. I called him yesterday, and he said he’d been really worried about me. He said he wanted to call but his wife is giving him a really hard time – she found a present he’d bought for me. He’d signed it, ‘To My Lolita,’ and when she found it in his desk drawer, his wife Laura basically lost her shit. She’s a lecturer at Aber too, but apparently she’s been on long-term sick leave because she’s suffering from depression or something. Shame really, I feel bad for her, but one of my flatmates told me Dr Laura McKenzie is a bit of a psycho and so possessive. She’s called me a few times this week, says I’m not the only first year he’s slept with, he does it all the time – but I don’t believe her because Dave says he loves me, and he wouldn’t say it if he didn’t mean it.
I’ve been home a week now and I’ve been in all the newspapers, on TV, and people recognise me wherever I am. I’m like a celebrity – I’ve got 20k Instagram followers since I got off that mountain. And when Zoe and Jodie’s court case comes up next year and they make the TV drama all about me almost dying on the side of a mountain, my fucking Instagram will explode.
This morning I was in Sainsbury’s and a cute-looking boy shouted, ‘You go, Amy!’ And in Costa with Mum yesterday these girls came over and wanted to take a selfie with me. Mum was like no way, but I said, ‘Mum, I’ve just had my eyebrows done, and my contouring is on point today, so why the hell wouldn’t I be photographed?’
And she laughed and said, ‘Yeah, why the hell not? Do it. Arguing with you is like arguing with myself, you’re pretty formidable, Amy – nothing and no one gets in your way.’
‘Because I’m just like my mum,’ I said. Nothing and no one got in her way when I was missing. She just kept on fighting for the truth, and God help anyone who tried to stop her. Mum saw my rucksack in Jodie’s room, found the scarf and then just went for it, Zoe even tried to kill her, but Mum was well fierce.
Oh yeah, and my dad got in touch again last week. Mum said it was up to me if I wanted to see him. I wasn’t sure, he’d been really mean about Richard when he’d first messaged me – and that was before I even met him. He said Richard had him put in jail, and he split up my mum and dad because mum ran off with him. Talking to my dad made me annoyed with Richard, but when I met Dad he was vile about Mum too. After talking to Richard I realised Dad’s just mean about them because he’s jealous of what they’ve got. Anyway, I asked Mum if she thought I should meet him again. I was hoping she’d just say no so I could tell him I wasn’t allowed to, but she suggested I agree to meet him on condition she and Richard weren’t discussed. So I met him in London, where he’s living now, and he took me to this cool wine bar and I tried to tell him about my life, and my course at uni and how I’m going back next September and starting all over again because I need time to heal (and do interviews with magazines!). But he wasn’t really listening, he was staring at this girl in a mini-skirt, and when he wasn’t looking at her he was talking about himself. He’s in some band and he’s really buzzing about it – said they’re going to be huge, but I doubt it – they’re all fifty and bald, too old to do anything really.
I got bored and said I had to be somewhere, and then he said, ‘I might be able to get us a TV interview – all about you on the mountain, and if you’ll do it as the main guest, they’ll let my band play on the programme.’ I realised then what he’s like and that was before he started begging, saying, ‘Please Amy, it’ll be a father-and-daughter special.’
And I said, ‘In that case I’d better make sure Richard is on with me,’ and repeated that I had to be somewhere. I won’t be seeing him again. Richard’s my dad – I don’t need another. In his own reserved, cautious way Richard sees things clearly, he understands me in a way Mum sometimes doesn’t. I overheard them talking the other evening, she was making plans for us all way into the future, and he just said, ‘Kat, she left home once, she hasn’t come back, she never will – Amy’s only ever going to be here for a little while.’ Of course Mum dismissed this and told him I wasn’t going anywhere soon, which made me smile.
It’s pretty awesome being home, with Mum and Richard buying me stuff and letting me do pretty much anything I want to. Josh was one of the first of my friends to come and see me, he told me that him and Jodie were never a thing, she made it all up so she could break us up. Josh got better-looking and he’s more mature these days. Mum keeps inviting him over and he stays for tea and then we go up to my room, but Mum’s constantly knocking on my bedroom door with hot chocolate and cookies. She thinks me and Josh are still six years old, but trust me, we’re not playing Snakes and Ladders in my room – and one of these days she’s going to breeze in with a tray of cookies and get quite a surprise.
‘Oh, it’s lovely having chicks back in the nest again,’ she said the other day, as she wandered in, and I’m like, ‘Mum, WTF, please knock before you come into my room – and stop being weird!’ But she just laughed, she’s happy, and making a fuss of me, which I used to find annoying, but after everything, I’m okay with it – after all it was Mum’s fussing that saved my life. She never gave up on me, and I owe her big time.
Christmas is just around the corner and I’m excited to be home, but not as excited as Mum! She makes all my favourite foods, we chat, watch TV together, go shopping for presents and we’re singing in the car again just like before I went away to uni. And when she isn’t hugging or feeding me, Mum’s crying happy tears and saying stuff like, ‘Amy, you’ve no idea how happy I am that you’re back home, you’re safe here where no one can hurt you. I can finally sleep at night now.’ I haven’t told her yet about mine and Josh’s plans to go travelling to Thailand after Christmas. Think I’ll save that for another day.
If you loved The Empty Nest, don't miss Our Little Lies, an absolutely gripping psychological thriller about a husband, a wife, and a secret that could destroy their marriage.