Chim - Double Walker

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Cheryl’s P.O.V

I’ve sent myself into exile.

It has been three months since my birthday, so that’s three months since I have seen Kimberley.

When the girls left, I went to me mam’s room and sobbed my heart out. She was patient when I explained what had happened, and she was there for me while I cried. But she was still stern with me. Once I had calmed down, she looked me in the eye and told me that she thinks I am in the wrong. That Kimberley would never do something like that and she wouldn’t be able to lie about it.

Deep down I find it hard to believe myself, but I am ignoring that part of me, because I also know that I didn’t imagine her coming home, confessing everything and ripping off her baby bump...

I am not crazy.

I went home to Newcastle with mam for a month, she was constantly trying to convince me to go and see Kimberley. Gary, Joe and Andrew even ganged up on me at one point. That’s when I left and went back to London.

I have been staying at a hotel for the past two months and for the unforeseeable future by the looks of it, because I don’t know what is happening with mine and Kimberley’s relationship. Will it fix itself? Will we fix it ourselves? Who will make the first move if we do fix it ourselves? Or maybe, we have both lost hope in fixing it. Do I really want it to be fixed? I still don’t know what to believe.

The girls have been texting and ringing me, making sure I was okay and asking if I want them to visit or meet me anywhere. I’ve turned them down every time. I just want to be alone so I could think about this confusing situation.

Kimberley was texting me every day during the first week, telling me when the scan is and asking if I would be coming. The last text I received from her was telling me I had missed the scan.

Kimba <3: Well you missed the scan so I guess you really DON’T care about OUR baby. We were going to be amazing parents, why would you ruin that? I thought we loved each other Cheryl.

I never replied to any of her messages, not even that one.

She is six months pregnant now, and it pains me just knowing that I haven’t been able to keep my promise to look after her during the pregnancy, making sure she is resting and letting me spoil her rotten.

I know the girls will be looking after her, but I still feel like it should be me. Even if I did tell her I didn’t want her near me anymore.

I am snapped out of my thoughts by my phone buzzing on the bedside table.

Groaning, I roll over on the bed and reach for it, reading the text off Nicola.

Wherever you are staying to hide from us and Kimberley, snap out of it! Go down to the lobby and look at the front page of the paper! Nic x

Then another one comes through.

P.S you may want to pack your bags before you go down

Then another

Oh and your car keys

I roll my eyes and don’t bother replying, just like I haven’t for the past three months.

What could really be so interesting to make me leave my room and go all the way downstairs? The only times I have been out of this room in the past two months is to eat.

I decide to have a shower, wash my hair and watch some TV before I dry my hair.

But by the time I get out of the shower, my mind has already been working on overdrive, thinking about what Nicola wants me to read in the paper. And pack my bags? Why should I pack my bags and take my car keys? Where is she expecting me to go?

Eventually, my thoughts get the better of me and I find myself hurriedly drying my hair and going downstairs.

The minute I get to the small store at the back of the lobby, I know what Nicola wanted me to look at.

Kimberley Tweedy-Walsh steps out in London  along with... Kimberley Tweedy-Walsh?

Below the headline, there is a picture of Kimberley walking through London, staring at her phone through a pair of black sunglasses. But then, walking about 5-10 meters behind her is Kimberley again, and she is looking at her phone too.

At first I thought someone had found out about our argument and edited the picture as a sick joke. But there is another picture next to it with the second Kimberley turning around and rushing off in a different direction.

Underneath the pictures, there is the caption: One of the “Kimberley’s” rushed off once she noticed she was being photographed. I guess we know who the real Kimberley Tweedy-Walsh is. But who is the other?

I throw the paper back on the rack and run back up to my room, taking the stairs hoping to get there quicker than I would if I had waited for the lift.

That’s why Kimberley didn’t have a clue what I was talking about. It wasn’t her who told me. It wasn’t her who tried to break my heart. Instead, it was some complete stranger who is clearly trying to ruin our lives and break us apart. Sadly it looks like she succeeded, thanks to me... and my rage.

Once in my room, I look at the mess surrounding me and curse myself for not paying more attention to Nicolas text. I should have packed my fucking bags.

But there’s no time now, so I just grab my car keys and the hotel key, before rushing back out the door, down the stairs, and outside to my car.

I climb in, bringing the engine to life and race through the streets of London. I need to get home and check on Kimberley.