December 31st, 1989

December 31st, 1989

At home

What to wear? What to wear? What to wear?

I’ve already tried on all the usual suspects; black stuff, bright colours, more black stuff, a blue dress I hate, a white skirt I love.

“Will you no be freezing in that wee skirt?”

“The party is inside mum, not outside. Besides, I feel comfortable in it.”

“You looked lovely in that blue dress you just had on.”

“Maybe so but I can’t sit in it.”

“You won’t be sitting, you’ll be dancing.”

“Not in the car on the way there, I won’t.”

“Aye that’s true.”

Today is mum and dad’s twenty-second wedding anniversary and the pair of them were quite lovey dovey over breakfast, which was nice to see after such a difficult few months.

“What are you doing tonight, hen?” Dad asked.

“I don’t know yet.”

“It’s the last night of the eighties, you should do something you’ll always remember.”

I laughed. “I’ve been doing that all year, dad!”

I was sitting in the phone chair, flicking through my Filofax, when the phone rang.


“McGarr, you’re home!”

I laughed. “Obviously! How are you, Jon?”

“Excellent. What you up to tonight?”

“I’m not sure yet, I was just about to…”

“Fancy coming here?”

“Uh, eh,” I stuttered.

“I can come and pick you up.”

“Are you going to The Harrow?”

“Yeah, I’m meeting the boys there but not ‘til later. What do you say?”

“Eh, thank you but let’s catch up in the new year, yeah?”

“You sure? I’ll take you home anytime you want, tomorrow.”

“I’m sure, thanks. Have a great time and tell the boys I send my love.”

“I will. Happy new year, McGarr.”

“Same to you, Jon.”

I felt guilty the second I hung up and thought about ringing him back to say I’d changed my mind but the phone rang again.


“Karen, it’s Sebas..”

“I know who you are,” I laughed.

“Listen darling, I know it’s short notice but is there any way you’d consider being my date tonight?”

“For what?”

“A very posh party.”

“Ooh, Sebastian, you have my attention. Where?”

“Notting Hill.”

It’s amazing how my mind can reach a conclusion in a split second about some things and for others I need ridiculous amounts of thinking time. This was clearly the former.

“Yes, please!”

“I’ll pick you up at eight. Oh, and, are you still there?”

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“I should warn you. There might be only a handful of straight people at the party.”

I laughed. “And? Why are you telling me that?”

“I’m just letting you know your chances of snogging someone at the stroke of midnight will be slim to none.”

I guess we’ll see about that!


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