The Great Escape by Fiona Gibson

station. Jesus, Hannah reflects, anyone would think the poor kid had asked for a facial tattoo.
    Hannah can’t sleep. It’s unusually hot and stuffy for late April, and she tosses and turns, replaying her day in town. Unable to convey its true awfulness, she made light of it to Ryan and even threw in a few jokes about being trampled underfoot by herds of antelopes in New Look.
    Ryan is sleeping soundly, but Hannah just can’t get comfortable. She’s replaying Daisy announcing, ‘Hannah bought me a plain bread roll for lunch!’ as they all sat around the dinner table, and Ryan throwing her a quizzical look, as if he imagined for a second that Hannah hadn’t given Daisy any choice. Slipping out of bed, she considers going downstairs to make a cup of tea, but is wary of being discovered by one of the kids as she sits bleakly in the kitchen in the middle of the night. She might look as if she’s losing it, which would cheer them up no end.
    Instead, she heads up to the converted loft – formerly Petra’s music room – and now Hannah’s very own studio. Sitting down at her desk, she flicks on the wonky Anglepoise lamp she’s had since art college, then turns on her ageing computer and waits for it to whir into life. All around the room, canvases are stacked against the plain white walls. Cityscapes, mostly, exploding with colour. Although Hannah studied illustration at college, she still loves to paint. She runs her gaze along the row of canvases leaning against the wall. These were painted before she moved in with Ryan; he seemed entranced as she unpacked them and helped to peel off their protective bubble wrap layers. But there’s no evidence of recent painting activity. No tubes out of their wooden boxes, no brushes in jars or hardened worms of paint stuck to her palette. In fact, she’s only started one painting – a portrait of Daisy which she had to abandon because it felt wrong, the two of them up here with Daisy reminding her, in that prim little voice, ‘This used to be Mummy’s music room, you know. She kept her cello over there. That’s what made the scratches on the floor.’
    Focusing on the screen now, Hannah begins to type:
    Girls, hope all’s well. Been missing you loads lately and I’ve had an idea. I’m planning a hen weekend, just the three of us. How d’you fancy going to Glasgow for old time’s sake? Her attention is momentarily diverted by a painting of the Clyde, silvery-green beneath a searing blue sky. Sadie, she continues, I know the babies are still little, but d’you think Barney would be okay with you coming away? And Lou – I know York’s hardly on the doorstep but d’you think you could make it, get some time off work? We could go to all our old haunts, try to track down some of the old crowd, maybe even find Johnny, although God knows where he disappeared to. Or maybe it’d be better just the three of us.
    So what d’you think? Shall we talk about dates? I know you’ll be at the wedding in just a few weeks, but I honestly think I’ll burst if I don’t see you before that. No pressure though!!
    Lots of love, Han xxx
    As she clicks ‘send’ and turns off her computer, Hannah feels her spirits rise as she pictures the three of them – the Garnet Street Girls – back together again. Please come , she murmurs as she pads back down to her and Ryan’s bedroom. Please, please say yes .

FOURTEEN
    Lou feels renewed after seeing Jo, the friend who championed her jewellery, helping to get it stocked in various boutiques and gift shops around York. It’s a bright, sunny day and she’s glad she’s following her new rule to make the most of Sundays. Spike hadn’t wanted to come. ‘Brunch?’ he’d laughed as she was heading out. ‘Who has brunch ? I mean, what’s the point of it?’
    ‘The point,’ she explained, ‘is that there isn’t any point – it’s just nice .’ And she’d skipped off, relieved to escape the flat which now felt as if there was no air left