Chapter 1- Why is this Happening?!

2 Weeks ago

The vibrations of my phone on the bedside table drag me out of a sleepless night. Yesterday was a disaster — that meeting definitely didn’t help my anxiety. And now, to top it all off, my pain-in-the-arse boss is sending me halfway across the planet for a book festival. Alone. All because he “can’t be asked” to do it himself. Unbelievable. It’s ridiculous that I’m expected to handle everything on my own — but maybe it’s also the perfect opportunity. If I pull this off, everyone will finally see I’m better than him. He’s a useless man, and I’m going to prove we don’t need him.

I grab my phone and, of course, he’s calling.

“Violet? Are you up?” His voice blares so loudly in my ear I have to pull the phone away.

“Yes I am sir. What can I do for you?” Your excellency needs me to rub your feet I presume. I sigh internally. Just the sound of his voice makes my blood boil.

“You better be ready to leave soon for the airport. I’ve had to change your flight - you’re leaving from Heathrow in four hours instead of in seven hours. Chop chop! Be quick!” Click

“WAIT WHAT??”

No answer. That idiot hung up the phone before I could even reply. What the hell is he playing at? I try to call him back - straight to voicemail. Typical. His smug little voice tells me to leave a message he’ll never listen to.

What am I going to do?

I look around my room and the sight that greets me is anything but a fairytale. More like a domestic disaster. Suitcases wide open. Clothes and toiletries everywhere. Plates stacked on my chest of drawers. Laundry is still drying.

I don’t have a choice, I need to get up now.

The only thing working in my favour? I live near the Tube and not too far from the airport. But to be there in time for check in, I’ve got about thirsty-five minutes before I need to be out the door.

I don’t even know where to start. So I bolt straight to the bathroom for a quick shower. Hopefully it’ll wake me up fast enough that I won’t need to down any coffee — at least not yet.

By the time I step out, I’m more awake and a bit more energised… but let’s be honest, my anxiety’s still through the roof. And I’m still standing here in a towel, staring at the chaos, wondering what to tackle first.

Clothes. Let’s start with clothes.

Underwear. Trousers. Shirts. A couple of suits — definitely need those for the official meetings and the festival. I grab my pastel blue one and the simple black suit. The black one means business: clean, sharp, professional. That’ll send the right message to the authors who want to be impressed. The blue one, though — that one’s for the authors who need support, who need to feel like they matter to someone in publishing. Not just another name on a spreadsheet.

I yank open the nearest suitcase and throw the first clothes chosen first. Halfway through throwing a random shirt in the suitcase, I realise I only packed a couple of blouses and no socks. I run to the drying rack to grab a few pairs of socks and a couple of cardigans for the evenings. I don’t know what the weather is like so I prefer to be safe than sorry. What else? Oh yeah! Toiletries. Makeup, I need to hide the struggle on my face. Chargers. Laptop. Books I’m in the process of reading. Crap, where’s my passport?!

I open the drawers with so much speed they almost stay in my hand instead of the furniture. I toss aside an old receipt I really should have gotten rid of already, loose pens with no caps, and a melted lip balm until I finally spot the navy blue cover under an old work folder, the one thing I should have brought back to work months ago.

I shove my passport in my handbag, knock a half empty coffee mug on the floor in the process, and curse loudly when I see it also spilled on a book I needed to bring with me for review.

When I’m done with packing my belongings into my suitcases and my handbag, I finally throw on some comfy clothes that will not make me look like a lunatic through the terminal looking for the door where the plane will be waiting. That’s when I look at my phone and see I only have about ten minutes before I need to dash out. I decided to quickly brush my teeth and put my shoes on so I don’t have to run to the Tube station with only one shoe on. Once that is sorted, I sort out my dishes with thankfully only easy washes to sort out. With five minutes to spare, I also hide all my dried clothes in my drawers. I will sort them out when I’m back.

One minute?! Crap. I manage to grab my phone, watch, headphones and my bags and run to the door taking my keys in the process so I can lock my door, but drop my bag on the floor, and everything obviously scatters all on the floor. Yes, that is what I need when I’m already behind on schedule. That’s when I spot the picture of my father. I decide to leave this one behind on my TV bench. I don't need a reminder of what I just found out about him. I make sure to lock the front food. Don’t really want someone to rob my place while I’m gone and make my way to the street.

Let the travel begin!