Trust No Bitch: Part 3

Lilly Philipps: Tuesday, 6th January, 2016

Lilly had to admit, it was surprising. Alice Jenkins in a psychiatric ward was a combination of words she'd never thought she'd hear, Vanessa, Alice's sister, being the one to divulge the news through a flustered phone call. The aftershocks of the disastrous fashion show, which included outraged voicemails from the designer and the stylist who'd recommended Lilly, who both somehow thought she had something to do with it, and peculiar offers from scouts who had thought the whole thing was quite "edgy", now seemed trivial. As bad as Lilly knew it sounded, Alice being sectioned was the most shocking part of the whole sorry state of affairs, more than Louis Blackmore's death. Lilly had never voiced the opinion but she had always privately held the belief that the man would drink himself to death at some point anyway; he was well known for easily knocking back whole bottles of vodka, getting in bar fights over nothing. She had always wondered why Alice was involved with someone like that, but now, it was quite clear. She was no better than he was. Well, slightly better, but not by any discernible amount. Certainly not to anyone who didn't know the full story of what had happened the evening that Louis had died, anyway. It had been quite a bad idea, something Alice probably would've alerted them all to if she was there, everyone meeting in the university cafe, given the general disquietude of the rest of the student population. In the space of less than a week, both Tess Rowe and Louis Blackmore had been "murdered". Of course, with Louis, that was not the case. Lilly, Gemma and Clara knew what Alice had done was in self-defence, but from the profusion of agitated glances and whispered comments directed at them on their short journey from the carpark to the cafe? Well, it seemed that everybody else had promptly made their own gossip starved minds up about what had happened.

"God...I'm so glad everybody else is still at home for the holidays." Lilly said as they entered, taking the sofas next to the window. "I feel like we only passed about 5 people and that was bad enough." She set her stuff, including her phone which the others had picked up for her after she'd left it backstage at the fashion show, down on the sofa next to her and addressed Gemma nervously. "I have something to tell you both by the way." She said.

"What is it?" Gemma asked, before looking over her shoulder at Clara who was ordering their drinks. "Just water for me, thanks." She called, Clara acknowledging her with a nod of the head.

"Uh, I invited Naomi."

"Again?" Gemma murmured with a sigh. "Lilly...it's awkward. We were never really friends with her and I feel really bad about what happened to Tess and everything but-"

"She has no other friends, Gemma!" Lilly protested, attempting to smile graciously at Clara as she handed over a steaming latte, but instead just bearing her teeth.

"What's this about?" Clara asked, taking her seat and setting her crutches down on the floor. "Oh and by the way, thanks for making me get the drinks in my crippled state. Bitches."

"Sorry, but Lilly's invited Naomi again."

"Eurgh, why? Because if it's compassion she wants from me then I needed to know at least 24 hours in advance. It's too late." Clara replied gruffly, rolling her eyes.

"Right." Gemma agreed. "This can't be a permanent thing, Lilly. We can't have her just...you know...Awkwardly hanging around us all the time. She's like one of those of stray pubes you find on a public toilet seat." She said, Clara cackling with laughter at this and Lilly glaring at them both.

"Have you two forgotten what it feels like to lose a best friend? Especially you, Clara?" She said heatedly, Gemma taken aback by the outburst. Clara, on the other hand, opened her mouth to hit back with what Lilly was sure would be some astringent retort, however, It didn't come. For at that exact moment, the cafe door swung open and Naomi Cookson walked in, head bowed and face puffy. Oh God, thought Lilly to herself. She's been crying again.