Chapter 7 - Home

"What a stupid ass question, course I bloody well do! Look, while I have you on the the phone I wanted to ask you something?" Tasha always did this. It normally meant a signed autograph for someone who knows someone she worked with.

"Yeeahh?" I asked suspiciously.

"Well I wasn't going to bother asking you cos I know what you normally say, but I figured if I didn't ask then you may get cranky if I we.."

Losing my patience I had to stop her blabbering. "What do you want Tash?"

"I was gonna drag Sam along, but he can't get time off work. I've got these tickets for this band on Saturday night." She pleaded.

"What band?" I really wasn't into pop music, I liked a bit of Take That I suppose, But The Carpenters and Don Williams were more my kind of music. Easy Listening, relaxing stuff. "It's not a screaming girly fan type band is it?" I screwed up my face.

I hated nutjob screaming girlies.

"No!" She tutted. "Well not really, they came on the show last month. They're called 'Trenchcoat', odd name I know, but they sounded great. Rock/Pop type." She was giving it the hard sell I could tell, it would make her happy and I suppose it would give me something to do at least when I went home.

"Hmm." I pondered aloud.

"Oh please Jen? They are really good, I know you will love it and the lead singer is extremely spunky!" Her tone when she said the last word made me giggle.

"Spunky huh?" I laughed.

"Dreamingly so. The type you wouldn't kick out of bed in the morning for anything." She cooed.

Yeah like I was interested in the male species right now. The things I did for that woman!

"I suppose so!" I rolled my eyes. "They'd better not be mosh pit ticket though!"

"Ohh, Yippee!" I heard her clap with delight. "No they're VIP tickets. Up in the stands. They Include Backstage passes to meet them before the gig too." She exclaimed excitedly.

Swell! Meet and greet with a band I don't even know. Great!

"I'm really not into grunge bands Tash. Can't we just go to the gig?" I whined starting to regret my agreeing to go.

"It's not grunge! They are actually very good. It'll be fun!"

I groaned. "Famous last words. On one condition Missy?"

"What? Anything!"

"Only if you help me sort the house. I'm really not looking forward to it one bit." The thought of seeing his face all over my house again depressed me.

"Done!" She agreed in a snap. "Oh shit! I gotta go. Producers on the warpath, see you when you get back, OK?" With that she was gone. Before I even had chance to say goodbye.

Charming. Good job I loved her. What have you just agreed too Jen!?

.

.

Trent arranged a car to meet me at Heathrow, security was tight as always. I seriously didn't know why I needed it everywhere I went. It was just little old me, Jennifer Austen. Regardless, Trent being the great manager he was, insisted.

"Ms Austen." A big buff security guard nodded at me as he waited at the bottom of the steps of the private jet I'd traveled home in. I smiled wearily and descended the three steps to the concrete. A woman in a high viz jacket greeted me and told me to follow her into the terminal building.

As if I didn't know where to go by now?

I was ushered into the VIP lounge where I waited a few minutes for my luggage. It would have been a damn site quicker than that if they have let me pull my case myself, but no. They insisted that, that too, was their pleasure.

Tut!

After I'd had my passport checked, I was keen to just get home. I was exhausted. I made my way through the terminal swiftly. A few fans shouted my name as I appeared through the arrivals channel.

How did they know I was here? I didn't even know till a few days ago.

I waved at them and smiled despite feeling the tiredness run through my feet and up through my body, making my head pound. I politely approached the barrier to say some hello's.

"Oh my god! Jen, you look fab!" One lady called out. I went over to her and signed her book she was clutching with dear might. "Oh, Thank you. I replied politely. "How you lot know I'm coming, I don't know?"

Another shouted. "Is Tim as hot in real life as he is on film?" This made me giggle. "Yep, he sure is."

He'd love that!

"Miss Austen. Ms Austen, can you sign this please?" A small girl asked beaming from ear to ear. "Course i can Sweetie. Here." I took her pen and scribbled my showbiz autograph which didn't resemble my real signature whatsoever. Her face lit up even more and she squealed to a woman who I assumed was her mother. "Look! She signed it! She signed it!" The woman thanked me for signing it. "That's OK. That's a very pretty hat she's wearing." I pointed to the small child's head wear. I always remembered rule one of being a celeb. Always compliment whenever possible.

Cameras flashed in my face from the press area, causing spots before my eyes whenever I blinked. One flashed very near making me flinch slightly. The security fella had seen enough. "Times up!" He caught my arm and began leading me away.

"Thank you all for coming out to see me. Get home safe." I waved to my fans and smiled one last time to the press.

Good press was always a bonus.

.

Despite my thoughts of seeing Greg's mug all over my house, It felt great to be back when I turned the key in my door at home. London always felt great to me. It was home.

Tasha always did a great job looking in on my house from time to time and the housekeepers had fully stocked the fridge. It looked great. The only thing that didn't feel good about it was indeed all Greg's things. His cheery smiling face reflected back smugly at me from the pictures on the wall, but I wasn't going to let him spoil my mood anymore.

The pictures were the first to go, before I'd even kicked off my shoes. I stomped to the kitchen and grabbed a bin liner from the drawer, moving along swiftly every last picture smashed against the other inside the bag. Once the walls and dresser were clear, I marched to the front door and dropped the bag into the wheelie bin with a sigh of relief.

In the bin. Where all rubbish deserved to be.

My shoes were then off and a glass of wine appeared in my hand. Molding to my white soft leather sofa I heaved a heavy sigh. It was good to be back in London. I slept well that night, I wasn't sure if it was the bottle of wine I sank or the jet lag, but I wasn't complaining.

Tasha was working the next day, so I started my Greg detox alone. Wardrobes, drawers, his music and the office. Everything I no longer wanted was thrown in the boxes the courier had dropped round in the morning when I called to book them. In the afternoon I visited my mother. It had been ages since I'd seen her, so I couldn't wait to go home, home. The house I'd grown up in. It never changed, not even the neighbours.

We spent five hours catching up. She was keeping well, Living alone since Cancer had cruelly taken my father four years ago, she had little choice to carry on. We missed him something terrible, but I was so glad I still had my mother around, I just wish I could see her more often. She came out to New York if I was away filming during Christmas time. If I wasn't, I usually came home. Christmases in London were just amazing.

The next day, a Friday. Tasha came round as promised to help. I'd arranged the courier to arrive at seven that evening, so we set to work. We cleared all the paperwork, his nic nac's, thousands of books, his shoes, rest of his clothes, even down to his toothbrush and toiletries. By six thirty that evening we sealed the last box closed. Greg March was out of my life, forever and it felt great waving the van away as it crunched down my gravel driveway and out of the security gate bulging with all his belongings.

"Woah! I'm beat!" I said flopping down in the chair.

"Me too. We need a drink!" Tasha grinned wiggling her eyebrows. She marched out to the kitchen and returned with a perfectly chilled bottle of white wine and two glasses.

"Do you realize we haven eaten all day?" I scoffed realizing we hadn't even stopped for lunch.

No wonder I was starving.

"I know! I'm famished. Let's have take out! Chinese?" She clapped, drawing her phone from her pocket and pressed a few buttons.

She probably had them on sped dial!

We ate, drank and smoked the evening away, before we knew it, it hit one in the morning. Tasha began to gather her things to go home.

"Aw, don't go. Stay with me? Please? It'll feel lonely tonight all by myself." The house felt empty now, I swear our voices had begun to echo.

"Sam will wonder where I am? She shrugged.

"Ring him then. I don't want to be alone tonight." I pouted and blinked knowing exactly how to reel her in.

"Sure. OK! I'll just go ring him while I go for a pee." She rose from her chair and trotted out the downstairs bathroom.

.

"Afternoon Sweetcheeks!" Tasha smiled sat up to my breakfast bar when I surfaced from my bedroom the next afternoon.

"Where did the morning go?" I winced, with a small thumping heartbeat in my head.

Did I drink that much last night?

"It was in your dreams. Sleep well? You were hammered last night!" She licked her finger and flicked through the pages a magazine my housekeeper had left for me. She liked to leave them for me to keep me up to date with the celeb gossip.

"Like a baby." I yawned, rubbing the sleep from my crusty eyes and headed straight for the Tassimo machine.

"Hey! Don't forget we're going out tonight too." She didn't look up from the mag as she spoke.

What? What day was it anyway? Where were we going? I forgot.

Seeing my confused face she reminded me. "The gig?"

"Oh god no!" I grimaced, pushing the magic coffee button.

Now, where were my cigarettes?

Tasha's shoulders dropped and she tutted loudly. "Oh come on Jen, you promised!?"

"Ugh!" I groaned, and plodded into the lounge In search for my box of Marlbrough. I sifted through the take away boxes and wine bottles which still covered the coffee table from last night.

"Where's my ciggies?" I called out to Tasha before immediately finding them hidden under a box. "No worries I've found them." I then began the search for my lighter. "Fuck's sake!" I cursed tossing the boxes aside.

Hearing my cursing she joined me in the lounge. "What now?" She tutted placing her hands on her hips.

"I can never find a fucking lighter in this house!" I huffed, giving up and made my way back to the kitchen to light it on the gas hob. I turned and leaned against the cooker, sucking in the fumes.

Oh! That first drag of the day was always the best I swear it.

Tasha re-appeared in the kitchen with an armful of the take away boxes.

"Leave that, the cleaner will do it!" I wafted a hand in front my face before drawing on the end of my cigarette again.

"Being a famous actress is no excuse to live like a slob Jen! It only takes two minutes to clear up." She tossed the empty boxes into the rubbish bin and stood to face me with crossed arms.

"What?" I exhaled the plume of smoke.

"You are coming out aren't you?" she scowled.

"Yes. OK! I'll go, just let me wake up in peace Tash!"

Yep, the thumping in my head was definitely getting louder.

"I'll get your coffee." She smirked sounding very pleased with herself.

What would I do without Tasha? She brightened my boring days no end, she always made me smile. I suppose one small gig wouldn't hurt, right?

A/N: I hate moving house. So much junk. I'm glad Jen had rid herself of her junk. *Waves goodbye to Greg.*

So they are going to see a band. Wonder if they are good? *evil grin*

Thank yooo to my beta Twihard till I die. xx Huggles xx

Onwards then...

DeathToBeReborn xx