Model Behavior Read online

  Model Behaviour

  Claire Highton-Stevenson

  Trigger Warning

  Some aspects of this book, its story and its characters

  may cause distress to some readers:

  Scenes of sexual assault

  Mention of drug use

  Copyright © 2020 Claire Highton-Stevenson

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN:

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  With thanks!

  I am so thankful that you have made the decision to purchase this book. I hope that you enjoy it and will want to know more about me and my other books. If that is the case, why not join my mailing list? Not only will I keep you up to date with all my news and books, you will also get a copy of OUT: A Cam Thomas story for free. You’ll be automatically entered into a monthly draw for a free signed copy of any book of mine, plus you’ll get the chance to download free codes for audio and a few short stories.

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  Dedication

  Eliot

  My furry friend for 14 years.

  RIP little buddy

  1st Apr 2006 – 31st Mar 2020

  Cyndi

  You fought the good fight

  2nd May 1966 – 3rd Apr 2020

  Acknowledgements

  Team ItsClaStevOffical:

  Mari, Carol, Miira,

  Carmela, Nic, Elisabeth, Kim,

  Pam, Sue, Kelly

  Michelle Arnold – Editing

  May Dawney – Cover design

  Family, Friends, Loved ones

  Chapter One

  Drizzle slithered slowly down the window of the taxi as the vehicle slowed to a halt. Olivia leaned forward and her manicured hand reached out, holding a crisp £20 note for the driver to take. She caught a glimpse of herself in the rear-view mirror. Her long dark hair was scraped back into a loose ponytail. Dark rings were under usually alert and smiling eyes that were now sullen and dull-looking. Plump lips now pressed together in a thin determined grimace. She felt like she hadn’t smiled in days.

  “Keep the change,” she offered, pushing her purse back into the designer bag stuffed with the essentials they would need for their journey.

  A rush of cold, damp air entered the vehicle the moment the door opened and she stepped out. The bag hooked perfectly over her shoulder as she reached back in and held out a hand for her daughter to take.

  “Are we going on a airplane now, Mummy?” she asked, wide-eyed as she looked up from under her cap at the grey sky, her head cocked, listening to the roar of an engine as another flight soared into the clouds.

  “Yeah, an airplane, Gracie.” She amended the mispronunciation the five-year-old always made. When she turned around, their cases were already on the pavement. The driver climbed back into the car with a wave and a “Safe journey,” shouted out just before the door closed and the car drove away.

  “Thanks,” she mumbled to herself as she watched it join the queue of traffic.

  She had dressed for travel, not the weather, and she shivered slightly in the thin cotton blue slacks that looked a million dollars on her long legs, but did little to battle the elements. She hadn’t bothered with a jacket, and the flimsy blouse did little to protect her from the wind either.

  A storm was brewing again.

  Hoisting her bag higher up her shoulder once more, she noted the darkening hue of the grey slate sky as the rain began to soak in and make her flesh pimple. At least she had had the common sense to wear a hat. She could not cope with windswept, rain-frazzled hair; not today.

  At 5 years-old, Gracie was already developing a style of her own and for now, Olivia was inclined to just let her run with it. It was cute, and mostly, she actually had a good eye. Today though, she had insisted on the blue dress that Ava had bought her. Olivia had tried everything to talk her out of it, but in the end the tantrum brewing was less pleasing than looking at the dress. So she gave in. Camel-coloured boots and a cream peacoat would have made the entire ensemble almost acceptable, but then Gracie had insisted on the hat. A black hat with Mickey mouse ears that they had bought for her on a trip to Paris. Olivia couldn’t suppress the smile as she looked down at her daughter and was greeted with a gap-toothed grin in return. Her little face scrunched up a moment later. “It’s raining.”

  “Yes, it is.” The weather had pretty much been the same ten years earlier, when she had arrived in the UK, bright-eyed and eager to succeed, and she had done. She had made a small name for herself and built a solid reputation that was now slowly being tarnished by the exploits of her ex.

  It was time to go home.

  The hustle and bustle of the airport on a busy Saturday morning was in full swing as she found herself pushed along on a wave of helpful staff whose sole purpose in life was to keep travellers moving. She was shown how to print her baggage tags and taken to the line where security wandered up and down in suits, with smiling faces as they ticked boxes on a sheet held firmly to a clipboard that only they were allowed to look at. Where was she going? How long did she expect to stay there? What was her stay in London for? he had asked in a rapid-fire questioning her mother would be proud of. She had answered all as accurately and honestly as she could, much to the amusement of the young Asian guy who was doing the asking. She was going home; her expectations were for forever. She had stayed in London out of love, but now she needed to leave that all behind.

  Finally, suitcases were gone, security checks were finished, and now, all she had to do was entertain Gracie for an hour before they would find out which gate they needed and be heading home.

  Her stomach reminded her that it had been a good 18 hours since she had last eaten. Gracie had had some Coco-Pops while Olivia had got dressed and finished packing, grateful that Ava had gone out late the previous night and still hadn’t returned. The last thing she wanted then was another argument.

  She chose a seat in a relatively busy bar and ordered a coffee, along with a plate of avocado on toast with poached eggs. Gracie chose scrambled eggs, with orange juice. Olivia settled back to watch the world go by.

  At the next table there was a couple, mid-fifties she guessed by the way they were dressed. She did that a lot, based her judgements on people by how they dressed. They were discussing the pros and cons of Britain’s new Prime Minister. Olivia’s attention drifted to her left, where she found a young woman with three small children all chattering happily about the holiday ahead. The father was bouncing the baby in his arms but trying very hard to be involved in the excitement. The baby, however, wasn’t as interested and continued to grizzle at the unfairness of it all. She exchanged a knowing smile with the mother before turning back to her own daughter.

  “Mummy, what is Merica like again?”

  She smiled at another mispronunciation. “Well, America is a big place. Where we’re going to live is called Los Angeles, where Grandma lives. And it’s sunny and there is a beach…” She had explained all of this already, but her daughter’s attention span when she wasn’t ready to listen wasn’t very long. She had taken Grace there once, when she was a baby, too young to remember it.

  “A beach? With sand and can I play in the water?” Wide, excited brown eyes gawked back at her.

  Olivia nodded. “Yes, if you like.” If there was one thing sure enough to make Olivia happy, it was the smile on Gracie’s face.

  Breakfast was served and eaten within 30 minutes, meaning they still had time to w
aste before the giant screens would finally announce which boarding gate they would need.

  Once more, at every turn, there were those helpful staff just waiting to aid her in spending more of her money in any of the various designer outlets or duty-free shops. There wasn’t anything she needed though, so she just browsed to pass the time. Her eye was caught by a stand full of nostalgic ‘I love London’ items, and for a very short time she considered buying something, a keepsake for her memory box, until she reasoned that it wasn’t much of a memory to keep any longer. She placed the plastic duck with the policeman’s hat on back on the shelf and was about to walk away when the tug on her sleeve stopped her.

  She bought the duck.

  Chapter Two

  Gracie clambered across the seats and promptly dropped onto her knees, excitedly staring out of the window at all of the people still waiting to board the aircraft. Olivia opened her bag and pulled out Gracie’s iPod, iPad, and Roger, her favourite stuffed toy. He’d been a rabbit once, not so much now, with his nose chewed off where Gracie liked to suck and chew it as she fell asleep, and his ears had long since been torn off. She wasn’t ready for him to be thrown away just yet though, and so his face had been stitched back on a handful of times. He looked more like a bear now.

  There was a small book Olivia had hastily packed, unsure if she would need entertaining herself. She half-hoped that Gracie would nap, meaning Olivia herself could doze too. But she kept the book out, just in case.

  More people were filing into this section, so she hurriedly pushed her bag into the overhead compartment and sat down in the middle seat.

  “Are we going to go high up into the sky like a bird?” Gracie asked, twisting around on her knees to stare back at her mother.

  “Much higher,” Olivia declared with a soft chuckle. She reached out and pulled the child towards her, kissing her cheek. “So high that we will be above the clouds.”

  “Really?” Gracie looked like she might burst with the excitement.

  Olivia nodded. “But first, we have to sit nice and still, put our seatbelts on and wait for everyone else to get into their seats, and then we will be off,” she exclaimed quickly, tickling Gracie’s ribs.

  When she had stopped giggling, she asked, “Is Ava coming too?”

  The smile slowly slid from Olivia’s face. “No, Darling. Ava isn’t coming.” She reached around and clipped the seatbelt into place around Grace.

  “Sweetheart, Ava and Mummy, well, we’re not friends anymore. It’s just you and me now, okay?”

  Gracie nodded slowly. “Did you have a fight like me and Lauren did? We’re friends again now. Maybe Ava will say sorry like Lauren did.”

  Gracie reached out for Roger. Lifting him close to her face, she whispered, “It’s okay Roger, Ava will just meet us there, I suppose.”

  Olivia said nothing and fastened her own seatbelt.

  Making sure that Gracie was happy enough with her books and the electronic tablet that she had pre-loaded with games and films suitable for her child to watch, Olivia closed her eyes and stretched out her legs, grateful for the upgrade she had paid for. It was an obscene amount of money, but worth every penny when sitting in a metal tube for over eleven hours and 5000 miles. She gave Gracie a sweet to suck, and popped one into her own mouth. Neither of them needed a case of airplane ear today.

  The plane’s engine’s roared into life and shakily it made its way towards the runway, jolting and bumping its way from the stand, taxiing slowly as it fell into line and waited for its slot for take-off.

  Just enough time for Olivia to reconsider, had she done the right thing? Walking out on Ava? She knew that she had, but still, it had been a huge thing to do, taking Gracie away from the only other parent figure she had ever had. Not that Ava was her parent, but still. It was too late now. There was no going back. They had a life to live in Los Angeles.

  As the plane gathered speed, she felt herself pushed back into her seat, and a small hand reached for her own. She smiled down at Gracie.

  “It will be okay,” she reassured her, squeezing gently.

  Gracie didn’t look too sure. She had been on planes before, but that had been at least two years ago, and she hadn’t remembered any of the experience.

  The cabin lights had been turned off and nearly all the window shutters pulled down to block the now-bright sunlight that lit everything up with a golden hue nobody wanted to see. The time difference meant most people were trying to sleep to avoid the early-to-bed jet lag once they arrived in the City of Angels. Olivia was no different of course. The small screens on the backs of the chairs in front held no real interest other than to watch the miniature plane as it plotted their course across the west of England and out over Wales, and then Ireland, before its long, lonely journey across the ocean. There would be nothing to see anyway. The cloud cover was so thick that it would feel like she was being catapulted through a hazy cotton candy pillow. She slapped the pillow against the back of the seat, lay her head against it, and drifted into a light slumber that at the very least would rest her eyes. Gracie was happy enough under her headphones and drawing in an activity booklet with some crayons that the flight attendant had given her.

  Olivia was exhausted. It felt like she had been tired for a long time. She used to sleep soundly, but then she had a child, and no woman ever sleeps soundly after that.

  Waking with a jolt, it felt as though she had slept for hours, but a quick glance at her wrist said otherwise: thirty-five minutes. It took a moment to catch her bearings as she yawned and stretched out.

  Gracie was out of her seat and standing in the aisle, talking to someone who was sitting in the seat next to Olivia. Which was confusing, as they hadn’t had anyone sitting in that seat when they had taken off.

  She twisted slowly to look at the interloper.

  “Oh, you’re awake. Hi.” The woman reached out a hand and then withdrew quickly, as though she were unsure if a handshake was the right way to start this conversation.

  The voice was also rather too perky, if Olivia was honest, and by her accent, she was also an American. Olivia pushed down the urge to be rude. Instead she rubbed her face and ran a hand through her hair in an attempt to feel somewhat with it.

  “Uh, hi,” she said too quickly, and a little grouchily. “Grace, why are you out of your seat?” she asked, holding out a hand. Grace took it and squeezed past them both to climb back into her seat. “You shouldn’t be out of your seatbelt,” Olivia chided gently as she locked it back into place.

  “I needed the toilet,” Gracie loudly whispered behind her hand.

  “Well, next time that happens, please wake me up and do not go wandering off by yourself, alright?”

  “Okay, Mummy.”

  There was a gentle cough from the other side of Olivia, and she turned back towards it.

  The woman was smiling at her.

  Olivia studied her a little. They were about the same age – late 20s, early 30s. The smile on her face seemed genuine. She was attractive too, which was a point, Olivia told herself, that didn’t matter. But still, it was the truth.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but well, I was sitting further back and the guy next to me, he had that look, ya know?” She was still talking, Olivia noted as she studied the woman a little more. Understated, that was how Olivia would describe her. Potential, definitely. She shook off her thoughts and tried to concentrate. “So, when he put his hand on my leg, well, I just freaked I guess.” Long flowing dark blonde hair hung loosely around her face. It didn’t appear to have any particular style other than natural highlights bleached by the sun and a shaggy unkempt appearance that was actually quite sexy. “Then I asked the stewardess if it would be okay to move seats. I was lucky enough to snag an upgrade as it was, I didn’t want to push my luck, but he was such a creep.” Olivia found herself drawn in. Her new seatmate’s eyes were green, with flecks of gold and a slight ring of brown around the iris. “So, here I am. Oh, I’m Hilary by the way.” She was looking
at Olivia expectantly and thrust her hand back out again, with a little more confidence this time around. “I already met Gracie, she’s a sweet kid.” Hilary smiled across at Gracie, who seemed delighted by it all.

  “Oh, right, yes, Olivia,” she replied, taking the hand offered. A firm but soft grip sent a small tingle down her spine, and she released the hand quickly.

  Pulling her hand away, Hilary twisted back into the seat properly and sat back. “I won’t bother you. I could have sat by myself, but then I figured what if he just followed me? And then, well I saw you sitting with your adorable daughter and I thought that I’d be much safer here, because you know you just looked so nice and pretty and—” She realised she was now rambling and stopped abruptly when she noticed the slight raise of a brow and the tiny smirk appear on Olivia’s face. “I’m sorry, I’ll be quiet now.” Hilary glanced away quickly before she began to rifle through the pocket of the seat in front of her. Finally deciding what she wanted wasn’t there, she sat back and pressed the on button for the small screen, and settled on playing a trivia game in silence.

  For several minutes Olivia attempted to go back to sleep, but it was no use. She felt bad for her reaction to the woman sitting quietly next to her, who had had to escape the clutches of a pervert. She observed as, what was it, Hilary? Yes, Hilary, giggled to herself over something she was watching on the small screen in front of her. She was cute, the way her nose crinkled when she laughed. What was the worst that could happen by being nice and having a conversation or two on a long-haul flight back to LA?

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t expect—” She was talking when Hilary suddenly turned to face her, eyebrows knitted as she reached up and pulled a small bud from her ear. Very observant, Olivia, she rebuked herself.

  “Sorry, were you talking to me?” Hilary beamed, her eyes lighting up as though she had no care in the world.