Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 115737 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115737 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
‘Twats. All of you.’ Micky jumps down from his stool, looking to the door. ‘The lads are here. I’m off to find my She-Ra.’ He lopes off with a grin, leaving the girls to be girls, which currently involves Nat and Lizzy laughing their tits off.
It could be an hour later, or it might be two. I’m not sure. All I know is that I’m tipsy and my mind is numbing more with each sip of wine I have. It’s respite. I turn on my stool and find Nat on her own on the dance floor, her wine glass in the air, her head dropped, swaying out of time to Hot Chip’s ‘Boy from School’. I keep my eyes on her as I blindly reach for Lizzy to get her attention, the sight too amusing not to share. ‘Look at that.’
‘Jesus, no man will entertain that, kid or no kid,’ Lizzy quips, sliding off her stool. She strolls over to Nat and gently coaxes her from the dance floor, helping her walk as she staggers and trips her way back to us. Steadying her on the seat, Lizzy takes a stool beside her and moves in close enough to catch her if she slips in her drunken stupor. ‘I have to ask,’ Nat slurs, looking up at Lizzy with one eye closed. ‘Why would you even dream of taking Jason back?’
I sag on an audible sigh. ‘Nat, it’s Lizzy’s decision. We should respect that.’
‘I know, but we’re all thinking it.’ She slaps a hand down but totally misses the table, forcing Lizzy to catch her before she topples from the stool. ‘What about the other woman?’
‘That’s none of our business,’ I pipe up, eager to halt the direction of the conversation dead in its tracks.
‘It’s fine,’ Lizzy appeases me. ‘We need to get this part out of the way.’
‘Yeah,’ Nat slurs, feeling around the table for her wine glass. Lizzy moves it away and pushes a glass of water towards her, and Nat grabs it, waving the highball at Lizzy. ‘What kind of woman sniffs around a taken man? Not even I would stoop to that level.’
My throat closes up on me, leaving me silent at the table while the topic I’ve dreaded for months steamrolls forward, threatening to make my night even worse.
‘Men think with their dicks!’ Nat rocks back on her stool. ‘Their brains are in their balls!’
I die on the inside. Part of me knows it’s wise to keep my trap shut, and part of me wants to give another angle for Nat to consider. Yet I don’t. I can’t. I have no other option but to sit back and listen while they slam into said other woman, calling her every name under the sun, surmising what a nasty piece of work she is and generally ripping her to shreds. Brutally. Harshly.
Justifiably.
I shrink further and further, my head starting to hurt, my heart starting to ache. I’m a fool if I think for a minute that anyone will understand me. The tiny scrap of hope I had of support from my friends just died. I can’t take this any more. I grab my bag, jump down from my stool and rush to the ladies’, forgetting to declare my need for the loo in my desperation to escape the bitching session. I can feel tears stinging the backs of my eyes and I can’t let my friends see them.
I lock myself in a cubicle until my churning stomach eases off, my mind slowly settling. I wasn’t prepared for that. It’s easy for me to bully my conscience into a certain way of thinking, but I can’t control how other people think. For the first time since I embarked on this affair, I feel so alone. Where’s Jack? Where is he to hold me and tell me everything is going to be okay? Anger simmers in my gut, kick-starting the churning again. He’s with his wife, fucking in the toilet at the gallery. My phone chimes, and though I know it’ll send my anger into frightening realms, I still open his message.
Where did you go?
My lip curls in disdain as I delete his worthless words from my screen. I leave the toilet and head straight for the bar, ordering more alcohol. My phone rings this time, and I psych myself up to answer it. ‘Hello.’
‘Where are you?’ he asks in a whisper that I’m struggling to hear over the music. He’s found a quiet corner to call me, away from her. ‘Annie?’
‘I’m busy.’ I hang up, but before I collect our drinks, it rings again. ‘What?’ I snap when I answer.
‘What’s the matter with you?’
‘Nothing. Get back to your wife, Jack,’ I spit, cutting the call and ignoring his next three attempts to ring back as I get the wine and take it to the table. I wave for Nat and Lizzy’s attention on the dance floor, and both give me a thumbs-up when they spot the bottle in my grasp.