November 3rd, 1989

November 3rd, 1989

At home

It was nice to get out tonight and I’m glad I didn’t drive, otherwise my car would still be in Stony Stratford, but, as usual, I’m getting ahead of myself.

Lovely surprise this morning when Laney rang.

“Where the hell have you been hiding?” she boomed.

“Hiding?”

“I’ve been ringing you for days. And why don’t you have an answering machine?”

“My mum and dad refuse to get one.”

“That’s mental but your mum usually answers then we have a natter for at least half an hour before she says, ‘Och, lane eh, Karen’s no here, she’s away on a trip.’”

I laughed. “You sounded just like her, there.” As soon as I said it, I felt a wave of sadness come over me. “I’m afraid my mum isn’t up for much at the moment.”

“Sorry to hear that. Is she feeling poorly?”

“Hmmm,” I uttered, not wishing to get into anything more.

“Tell her I send my love and wish her a speedy recovery.”

“I will, thanks. So,” I said, anxious to change the subject. “How’s your weekend looking?”

“I imagine you’ll probably wish it was yours instead of mine.”

“Sorry, you lost me there,” I said. “What do you mean?”

“I just got called out for a trip, tomorrow.”

“Where to?”

“LA.”

Shortly after that, Sarah rang and invited me out with not only her and Simon but also “a few of Simon’s mates.” Whenever Sarah uses that expression, it roughly translates to; “You’re a sad and lonely girl about to spend Friday night alone. You don’t have a boyfriend, which, in the eyes of a friend in a committed relationship makes you look like a waste of space. So, with that in mind, come and meet some naff blokes, one of whom you might take a shine to or at least have a laugh with. Or, you could choose to continue being a sad excuse for a young, single girl and spend the night at home, either washing your hair or worse still, watching crap on the telly.”

The blokes were not naff. They all appeared to be decent guys, out to enjoy a few drinks on a Friday night after a hard week at work. One guy in particular, Josh, was very sweet and we spent most of the night deep in conversation about all sorts but particularly our common interest in travel. “You have a bit of an unfair advantage over the rest of us,” he said, which made me laugh.

However, my favourite part of the night was when Sarah sidled up to us.
“You two make a nice couple,” she slurred.

If I had a pound for every time Sarah said that I’d…well, you know the rest.

“But that’s not what I came to say,” she continued.

Josh winked at me. “What did you want to say, Sarah?”

Sarah held up her glass. “Good riddance,” she said, clinking her glass to mine.

“To what?” I asked.

She giggled. “To that pathetic little wanker called Ben.”

 

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