October 31st, 1989

October 31st, 1989

Excelsior Hotel, Heathrow Airport

There’s a ridiculously rowdy room party next door, which probably means not much sleep for moi. While I was fumbling with the keycard, trying to get it to open the door, three giggling girls stumbled out of the lift and made their way down the corridor, to the room next door. I’m guessing, from their matching French maid costumes, it’s a Halloween party. Either that or somebody is fulfilling a fantasy!

On my way here, I stopped at the girls’ flat, where, surprisingly, they were all home. Kimberly initially appeared melancholy and it seems obvious to me now that the poor girl suffers from some sort of depression. She’s not quite on the level mum is because Kimberly still manages to function and hold down a job; something mum wouldn’t be able to do in her present state. I guess there are different levels. I just wish mum’s wasn’t so severe.

As usual, it didn’t take long for the conversation to turn to the subject of our love lives (or in my case; the lack thereof.) Lorna said if she ever meets Ben, the first thing she’ll do is, “Kick him in the goolies.” I told her I don’t think that would solve anything but she said the whole point of it would be to give her the satisfaction of knowing she’d hurt him.

Kimberly commented, “I think Karen should get back together with Jon.”

“Och no, no,” Meryl purred in her soft, Scottish lilt. “Karen needs to stick with David. Not only is he gorgeous but I love his American accent.”

“What Karen needs,” Lorna said, “Is a wild trip fling.”

“That won’t solve anything,” Kimberly chimed in. “It would only create more problems. If Karen goes back with Jon, she’ll avoid anything like that.”

“No way,” Meryl said. “You should never go back with an old boyfriend. Especially when you can have a new one who lives in LA.”

“Eh, I’m still here,” I laughed.

“I really like Jon,” Kimberly said, fitting her tiny frame between Meryl and I on the couch.

“What is it about Jon that you like so much?” I asked.

“He’s just like you.”

I gave her a questioning look. “How so?”

“He’s always happy.”


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