Walk Away

May 2022

“Happy birthday!” Ella calls as I walk into the office from the room I slept in, well lay in, the rooms are office like and uncomfortable.

Okay, so this isn’t the most exciting birthday ever. I’m at work—at the children’s care home where I do 48-hour shifts. There are currently four young people living here, and four staff on this rota. Ella’s one of them. We’ve become good mates.

This job is something I’ve wanted to do for a while. My own upbringing had its fair share of s**t, and I just think young people deserve someone who actually cares. Honestly, I’m happy to be here on my birthday. My shift started yesterday morning and finishes tomorrow morning—then I’ve got four days off to celebrate. Not that I have loads of people to celebrate with.

Family? A nightmare.

Friendships? I’ve struggled. That’s changed a little over the last six plus months—I’ve finally got a few close ones now. And, obviously, there’s Tara, but she’s four hours away. The b***h. We did our celebrating early anyway. Cocktails, karaoke, and so much laughing I swear I went home with abs.

“Can’t believe you’re at work on your birthday, you loser,” chimes Abbie, one of the young people.

You’re not supposed to have favourites, but… she’s definitely mine. Fourteen years old, full of sass, and life experience of someone pushing thirty. When I first started, she gave me hell. It’s just her way. You can’t blame any of them. They’ve been through more than most adults. They don’t know who to trust—they just assume you’ll leave, like everyone else. That you won’t understand.

I get it. I really do.

“Yeah, I just really wanted to spend my day with you and the others. Waking up here on my birthday is the ultimate dream,” I reply, with sarcasm—but there’s a bit of truth in it.

We plan the day and sort out who’s working with who. Because it’s my birthday, the others decide I can do a 1:1 with Abbie. We hop in the car and head to the farm. Perfect.

The day—and my mini celebration—is over before I know it. I get to spend time with my kids, which always means the world. They’re still little, but they make such a fuss over me and I really appreciate it. The one thing I applaud myself on is being a mother.

I think about how lucky I am to have them. It’s not the situation I would’ve chosen—each with different dads, thanks to my disastrous relationship history. Single mum again. But I wouldn’t change it. They’re incredible, each in their own way. They keep me going. They are my purpose.

“I need you to help me—or calm me down—or get a grip of me—arghhhh!” I scream down the phone to Stacy a couple of days later.

She’s cackling at me, her deep husky laugh making me laugh too.

Ours is an unlikely friendship. Definitely unique.

See, my ex—the latest in a series of five romantic disasters—was seeing more than just me. Stacy was the main “other woman,” even though she didn’t know that’s what she was. We started messaging, swapped screenshots of his recycled bullshit, and basically formed a trauma bond over his lies. I wonder if I’ve ever had a bond that’s not been embedded by trauma. It should’ve been awful, but it wasn’t. We got over him—and gained each other.

Honestly? We won.

“You’ll be fine,” Stacy says. “Just be yourself. Let me know how it goes.”

She’s like my relationship guru now. Every guy I speak to or think about meeting, she gets the full lowdown. Not only to check we aren’t overlapping again.

Tonight, I’m finally meeting the nice guy—the one I told Tara about. We’ve been chatting for six weeks, but between my shifts and his working in Cheshire while spending weekends in Norfolk with his daughter, this is the first time we’ve managed to make it work. He’s keen. Like.. really keen and I’m liking his attention.

As it’s just three days after my birthday. I wonder if he’s got me a card or something. Probably not. It is just a first date.

I pull up outside some flats in Stoke. I’m picking him up—he’s not driving at the moment. Not ideal with his daughter living so far away. Must be hard for him.

I message to say I’m here. My stomach’s flipping. I’m such a weird mix of confident and insecure—it’s exhausting. People always think I’m just confident. That’ll have to do.

I see him walking toward Penny. He opens the door and jumps in.

No card. No little gift. Not that I expected one—but I probably would’ve brought something. I always do too much. Always have. Always will.

He’s tall, which is a must. Not my usual type—more on the chavvy side, if I’m honest. A wave of alcohol, cigarettes, and aftershave hits me.

Well… at least there’s aftershave.

Before I can think more about it—or process how I feel about this guy I’ve already built up in my head—he leans over and plants a kiss on my lips.

“All right, gorgeous?” he says, giving me a once-over.

“Hi, Charlie,” I giggle, more out of nerves than anything.

He directs me back to Cheshire—to a spot he knows. It’s easy, being with him. When we get out of the car, he takes my hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He chats to me like we’ve known each other for ages. He looks at me like I am something he desires.

The drinks flow quickly. He even introduces me to a couple of mates—one stops by to drop something off, I’m no killjoy so I get on board with this, the other just happens to be nearby. It’s a bit weird for a first date, but I roll with it. Forever the people pleaser.

I’ve definitely been drinking more lately. That’s always been my way of coping after breakups. Go out and act like I’m 18 again, after all I was busy during my late teens and early twenties having babies. My last ex didn’t drink or do drugs—which was a nice change—but look how that turned out. So maybe that doesn’t mean anything, after all.

Charlie’s living up to his bad boy vibe, but he’s also showing me his nice side. Holding doors, checking in on me, paying for most of the drinks. What a totally captivating combination.

It’s nice—to feel wanted again. To feel attractive. After being made to feel so worthless, this feels… like something I could work with.

Yeah. I’m sure this is all going to work out just great.