watched him leave with an expression of conflict on her face. She clearly wanted to go after him and check that he was okay, but she did not want to be judged by the evil drunk twins who were making themselves at home grabbing pizza and pouring wine.
“Shboring, shmarried shpeoples,” Jayne added, lowering herself into Tristan’s place.
Beth at this point seemed to be maintaining a better control of her faculties and was at least able to put a coherent sentence together in response to my question when I asked where they had been.
“Bar.”
Very informative.
“No, really?”
Beth pulled a face and then delightfully showed me the food she was chewing in her mouth.
“Froebel, we are going to Fez next but we came to get you on the way.”
“Um, there is no way in hell I am going to Fez tonight!” I stated firmly.
“Name me one good reason?” challenged Beth.
“I am in my pyjamas and it is nine o’clock!”
“Oh my God. You are such a fucking granny.”
“I am not!”
“You are.”
“I’m bloody not. Give me my wine back, you cow.”
“Come to Fez then, Granny,” she taunted.
Meredith and I sat and stared at each other.
“It is Friday,” I said to her after a while.
“It is only nine o’ clock,” she agreed.
“Okay let’s do it, but girls I have one condition.”
“What’s that?” asked Beth
“You need to help me stand up first. I am stuck in this chair.”
Meredith gave a little giggle and helped pull me up. “It’ll do me good to have some fun, won’t it, Lil?” she whispered. I didn’t have time to wonder at the underlying message beneath her words because Beth interrupted us.
“Yes it sodding will if you get a bloody move on. Come on. You can’t go in your pyjama’s. No matter how sexy they are.”
It was fun. In fact it was probably the best fun I’ve had in a ridiculously long time. However it may have been fun for a lot of the wrong reasons and I do not want to think about that right now. Or perhaps ever.
Shit. I’ve got to get up for work—it’s going to be a very long, very painful day.
7.45 a.m.
Oh, it’s painful. I cannot bend my legs at all, so I have just walked to the bathroom and back like I’ve shit myself while trying not to get tripped up by Kit who was weaving in between my ankles.
It’s only as I mince my way back into my room I notice the yellow Post-it wrapped around his collar.
Tristan the shit.
Ben called … again.
Whoosh.
My stomach gives a little lurch.
All week I’ve been waiting for him to call and he does so the night I am out shit-faced, doing who knows what.
Excellent.
9.30 a.m.
Work
I’m late. Half an hour late.
Baz glares at me as I shuffle into the shop. I can’t move my legs or my head—it has been an interesting trip into work.
“Blimey! Are you all right, Lovey?” Baz takes a step toward me as if he is going to grab me and keep me upright, but then changes his mind when he sees me taking off my sunglasses and gauges the green colour I am underneath.
Yeah the puking started right about when my stomach did the whole whoosh thing in the hallway.
I think it was the wine.
I am going to kill Meredith when I see her.
“What happened?” asks Big Baz as he hands me a lukewarm over-stewed black coffee, which I gulp down gratefully.
First I point to my legs. “Jogging with a fit person,” I explain to Baz who nods understandingly.
“Meredith and white wine,” I add pointing to my head.
Baz gives me another understanding nod. “Figured as much.”
“Yeah, I hope she is suffering as well.”
“I’d guess so.”
I shrug out of my jacket and prop myself against the counter.
“Wake me up when it’s time to go home.”
“You really are the crappiest Saturday girl in history.”
I raise my head. “Are you going to sack me?”
“No,” he says. Nor does he sound overly-thrilled at the prospect of keeping me on.
“I’m sorry.” And I really am.
“Yeah, I know. So have you spoken to Ben while
“Shboring, shmarried shpeoples,” Jayne added, lowering herself into Tristan’s place.
Beth at this point seemed to be maintaining a better control of her faculties and was at least able to put a coherent sentence together in response to my question when I asked where they had been.
“Bar.”
Very informative.
“No, really?”
Beth pulled a face and then delightfully showed me the food she was chewing in her mouth.
“Froebel, we are going to Fez next but we came to get you on the way.”
“Um, there is no way in hell I am going to Fez tonight!” I stated firmly.
“Name me one good reason?” challenged Beth.
“I am in my pyjamas and it is nine o’clock!”
“Oh my God. You are such a fucking granny.”
“I am not!”
“You are.”
“I’m bloody not. Give me my wine back, you cow.”
“Come to Fez then, Granny,” she taunted.
Meredith and I sat and stared at each other.
“It is Friday,” I said to her after a while.
“It is only nine o’ clock,” she agreed.
“Okay let’s do it, but girls I have one condition.”
“What’s that?” asked Beth
“You need to help me stand up first. I am stuck in this chair.”
Meredith gave a little giggle and helped pull me up. “It’ll do me good to have some fun, won’t it, Lil?” she whispered. I didn’t have time to wonder at the underlying message beneath her words because Beth interrupted us.
“Yes it sodding will if you get a bloody move on. Come on. You can’t go in your pyjama’s. No matter how sexy they are.”
It was fun. In fact it was probably the best fun I’ve had in a ridiculously long time. However it may have been fun for a lot of the wrong reasons and I do not want to think about that right now. Or perhaps ever.
Shit. I’ve got to get up for work—it’s going to be a very long, very painful day.
7.45 a.m.
Oh, it’s painful. I cannot bend my legs at all, so I have just walked to the bathroom and back like I’ve shit myself while trying not to get tripped up by Kit who was weaving in between my ankles.
It’s only as I mince my way back into my room I notice the yellow Post-it wrapped around his collar.
Tristan the shit.
Ben called … again.
Whoosh.
My stomach gives a little lurch.
All week I’ve been waiting for him to call and he does so the night I am out shit-faced, doing who knows what.
Excellent.
9.30 a.m.
Work
I’m late. Half an hour late.
Baz glares at me as I shuffle into the shop. I can’t move my legs or my head—it has been an interesting trip into work.
“Blimey! Are you all right, Lovey?” Baz takes a step toward me as if he is going to grab me and keep me upright, but then changes his mind when he sees me taking off my sunglasses and gauges the green colour I am underneath.
Yeah the puking started right about when my stomach did the whole whoosh thing in the hallway.
I think it was the wine.
I am going to kill Meredith when I see her.
“What happened?” asks Big Baz as he hands me a lukewarm over-stewed black coffee, which I gulp down gratefully.
First I point to my legs. “Jogging with a fit person,” I explain to Baz who nods understandingly.
“Meredith and white wine,” I add pointing to my head.
Baz gives me another understanding nod. “Figured as much.”
“Yeah, I hope she is suffering as well.”
“I’d guess so.”
I shrug out of my jacket and prop myself against the counter.
“Wake me up when it’s time to go home.”
“You really are the crappiest Saturday girl in history.”
I raise my head. “Are you going to sack me?”
“No,” he says. Nor does he sound overly-thrilled at the prospect of keeping me on.
“I’m sorry.” And I really am.
“Yeah, I know. So have you spoken to Ben while
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