Lost Love

13. Get a Room

I’ve decided over the course of the weekend that I am going to make a real effort with Ozzy and our relationship. I don’t know how I can try any harder, but I feel like I need to. Daisy’s words have definitely made me think we need to be spending more time together, more alone time together to get things back to normal, or making new memories.

I’ve been busy texting Daisy on the train ride back to university. She had texted me yesterday about the positive feedback the post where I’d modelled a few outfits for her and it’d been a complete success. She was currently trying to convince and arrange for me to come and do some more photoshoots with her, with her popularity on style and accessories being lusted over particularly in that blog post. I'd received some lovely compliments as well, apparently. 

It’d be awesome if you could drag your boyfriend in to do a couples shot for me too? Male and female wardrobe would be so fun to explore?... Xx (Sent 09:27)

I don’t know if he’d be into that... Xx (Sent 09:29)

I feel guilty. Shouldn't I know if he would or wouldn't be interested in doing something like that? A few minutes later, she responds. 

He’d do anything for you and if it’d make me happy and you happy, so I’m sure he’d do it. Plus, he’s handsome so even more views and interest for me ;) xx (Sent 09:34)

I smirk at her logic. Reality was, Daisy’s blog was part of her income and while not nice to admit that pretty looking things attracted more views, it undoubtedly would, and if I could help out her budding career by dragging Ozzy to have some pictures taken together, then I’d try and do that for my best friend.

I’ll ask him when I see him :) xx (Sent 09:36)

Putting my phone back in my bag, I wait as the train pulls into the station, before picking up my big holdall placed overhead.

As I walk back through the rather empty looking town, a picture in a shop window captures my eye, causing me to stop in my tracks. I walk over to the travel agency shop window and look at the picture of Rome? I look at the surrounding pictures of Rome, when something comes back to me. Why does that look so familiar? Have I been there before? I walk into the travel agency and take out a brochure for Italy, turning to pictures of Rome and gasp in shock as something jogs my mind.

Elle and I throwing pennies into the Fontana di Trevi.

Elle and I playing a shark chase game in the hotel swimming pool with my dad, with me pushing the pink lilo and Eleanor helplessly paddling her legs either side.

Elle and I sharing a bed as the hotel only booked my parents a double bed and a single bed.

Elle and I on the aeroplane with terrible turbulence that caused her to cry the whole way home despite me trying to occupy her with my walkman and the latest Now CD I had on repeat.

‘Oh my God,’ I exclaim, foraging around my bag to find my phone to quickly call Eleanor. ‘Pick up, pick up, pick up!’ I murmur out loud, ignoring the worried looks from the travel agents, sat behind their desks with their make up all the same, their hair immaculate and the fakest smiles known to man.

A few beeps later, I finally get through.

‘Imogen!’ She hisses. ‘I’m in a lesson, hang up!’ She scolds, sounding furious at me. I can just imagine her upturned lip and a frown line forming in her forehead whilst saying this to me.

‘This is important; I remember, Eleanor! Elle, I remember that trip to Rome, the family one we had. I was 13, wasn’t I? I’m remembering all those details from that trip!’ I cry out, and soon feel the happy tears slipping down my face. ‘I remember that holiday, Elle. I remember.’