by C. B. Martin
‘Laura! Laura! Guess what?’ I yelled, the second she picked up the phone.
‘What?’ mumbled Laura, in a grumpy, I’ve-just-woken-up voice.
‘Guess!’
‘Whaaaaaat?’
‘Guess! Guess!’ I implored, wanting her to play the game a little and be happy for me.
‘You’ve won the Lotto?’ she sighed.
‘No,’ I tutted, ‘it’s even better than that!’
Laura continued grumbling and was obviously not in the mood for guessing games.
‘Oh you’ll never guess!’ I added impatiently. ‘Travis has just text me. He’s flying to Manchester. For New Year. Do you think he is coming over as an excuse to see me?’
‘It’s 7:30am,’ she butted in. ‘All I can say is; if he’s sending you text messages at this hour of the morning, then that must be the case. But, has he even bothered to call you yet?’
‘Well, no, not exactly,’ I admitted, ‘he has been texting me though… I don’t want to call him yet because I have to play it a little cool, don’t I?’
‘Well that’s up to you, but you could perhaps ask him if he would like to come and see you while he’s in the country, that would be nice,’ she counselled.
‘Nice? Nice? I can think of a much better word than “nice”! Sorry… I didn’t mean to wake you. It’s just that he’s the first and the last thing I think about. This feels so, well, different. It’s like he’s switched a light on inside me that’s never been on before and I’m kind of afraid of how I feel. I can’t really explain it. I think I have found something I thought I would never find. I feel sick, but not unwell. I can’t eat, yet I’m hungry. Oh… I don’t know,’ I sighed. ‘I just feel totally lost in him. Every time I hear a song it reminds me of him and it’s like he’s singing it to me. Every time I see a man on the TV I compare them to Travis.’
‘It’s plain and simple,’ groaned Laura. ‘It’s just infatuation. Enjoy the ride and chill.’
‘So, I’m not going mad then?’
‘Not at all, get a grip of yourself! Just send a text back and get on with it.’
‘Okay, I’ll text him. Speak to you later - and thanks, Laura.’
[Text to Travis]
How lovely for you. I’m sure they will be very happy to see you. If you fancy coming up to me afterwards let me know, as it would be more than lovely to see you! xxxx
I knew I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything until I’d heard back from him, but I did have to at least go through the motions of going to work. Apart from anything else, I needed a blow-dry ahead of the fancy dress party Siobhan was holding at her house for the New Year. It was bound to be a mad one, her parties always were. I also needed to pick up my costume from James.
I checked my phone before I walked into the Salon; no new texts. It had been two hours now and still no reply from Travis. I tried to keep myself calm by reasoning that, maybe, he was already on a flight over and had switched his phone off.
‘Morning everyone!’ I beamed as I arrived at the Salon, brilliantly masking my lovelorn anxiety.
‘Hi Tara, I’ve picked up your outfit… and it’s just fabulous,’ pouted James. ‘I’m so jealous. I’ve always wanted to wear a Miss Santa tutu in public. It’s hanging up in the staffroom, darling. Ooh and by the way, can I detect a bit of a glint in your eye? What have you been up to in the old Emerald Isle?’
‘I’ll tell you another time,’ I smirked, grinning from ear to ear.
‘Oh no! You are not doing this to me,’ said James, practically breaking into a run to cut me off before I could get to the staffroom. ‘I have to know. Pweeeaaase! Is it juicy? As in, really juicy? Have you finally had some action?’
‘Well, no, James, not - yet, but watch this space and get saving for a hat!’ I purred coquettishly.
‘So, no sex then?’ said James, suddenly looking very deflated.
I shook my head.
‘Oh, right,’ said James, now confused at how this might possibly have worked. ‘So not even a little lick of his lollipop?’
‘Erm, no,’ I said with a shrug as I battled out of my coat.
‘Hmm. Well, anyway,’ said James, losing interest fast and miming an extravagant yawn. ‘I have to finish my nails for tonight. See you later.’
‘James, before you go, is Jackie okay after that text from Pete?’ I asked, suddenly remembering the offending message (even though it felt a million years ago, pre-Travis).
‘Oh yeah, everything's fine now,’ James said dismissively, ‘someone was playing with Pete’s phone or something. She’s in the beauty room at the moment but she’ll be out in a while if you want to see her.’
‘No, it’s okay,’ I said, feeling relieved. ‘I don’t want to bother her. I’ll catch up with her at the party.’
I opened the staffroom cupboard to inspect my outfit. It was just what I wanted. Miss Sexy Claus would be wearing a short, frilly tutu and a cape edged with white, fluffy fur. I’ll match it with a low cut top, some stockings and bright red heels.
‘Jayde!’ I could hear James yelling from the Salon floor. ‘Stop stuffing pork pies down your hole and come and do Tara’s hair!’
I watched her through the corner of my eye walking past James with her middle finger raised, finishing her pork pie, she was trying to say swivel, but it came out as 'thwivel', along with some pork pie.
‘Come on then, Tara, let’s get you lookin’ even more gorgeous,’ said Jayde, popping her head around the staffroom door and wiping the crumbs away from her mouth and uniform.
‘Jayde - I saw that, and if I can see those gestures, half the Salon can too with the amount of mirrors in here,’ I admonished. ‘If you’re going to raise your finger at James, try not to get caught, eh?’
Jayde looked sheepish. ‘Sorry, you know what he’s like.’
‘Yes,’ I interrupted, before I could be drawn into a long discussion, ‘I do… but stop taking the bait, Jayde.’
To be honest, I felt so loved-up I just didn’t want the discussion at all, so I let it go. I checked my phone again. Nothing.
‘Right, Jayde, I want sexy, half-up, half-down, with tousled curls cascading down my shoulders please.’
It didn’t take Jayde long and she did a great job. I didn't look too bad at all, even if I do say so myself. I didn’t want to hang around the Salon too long though. I had too much on my mind. With my hair done, I got up to go home.
‘Right, see you two tonight - and James, can you let Jackie know I was here?’ I said, as I swept out.
I drove home with my phone in between my legs just in case I heard from Travis. But still, nothing! He had still not responded. Once home, I read back the text that I had sent over-and-over again. Yes, it was clear enough. I guess he must just be busy. Or, maybe I hadn’t made it clear enough that I was inviting him down? Either way, I was starting to feel pretty desperate all over again.
CHAPTER FIVE
After a two-minute walk, I arrived at Siobhan’s house. I could hear the music blasting and saw hordes of people dancing through the kitchen window. Ringing the doorbell, I was greeted by James.
‘Oh my God, James!’ I shrieked, taking a step back in shock. ‘What are you wearing?’
‘I know there’s not much to the outfit,’ said James, as he gave me a suggestive twirl, ‘but I love it. Don’t you just love it, Spencer?’ asked James, turning the full spotlight of his attention to a young man who had appeared from nowhere, and was also waiting to be admitted to the party. Poor Spencer looked mortified. It was very clear he didn’t bat for the same team as James, nor did he intend to.
‘Do the angel wings do it for you?’ continued the irrepressible James, turning around and pouting back at Spencer over his shoulder. In James’ view, any heterosexual man could be turned.
‘Hmmm? What about these skimpy, silky shorts then? They don’t leave much to the imagination do they, Spencer? I’ve got a spare pair if you’d like to try them. Or maybe you’d like to get into my shorts, swe
etie? Anyway, come in, come in.’ said James, standing back with a flourish. He looked a bit disappointed as Spencer put his head down and darted through the doorway without giving him a second glance. ‘Gay is the way sweetheart. You’ll find that out sooner or later,’ James called out to the rapidly retreating figure. ‘Call me when you’re ready!’
Recovering his composure, James turned to me; ‘Oh well, plenty more fish in the sea, as they say. Everyone's well on their way, getting leathered.’
Poor James. His posturing was lost even on me. While he’d been tormenting Spencer, I’d been busy sending Travis yet another text. This one was a guaranteed showstopper though, because it had a selfie of me in my Miss Sexy Claus outfit attached to a very suggestive few words.
‘Where’s the lady of the house, James?’ I asked, as I clicked ‘send,’ hoping against hope this text would stir Travis into action.
‘Well, the last time I spotted her she was trying to hump the Christmas tree,’ replied James, brightening now I’d finally looked up and taken notice of him.
‘Oh, okay, sounds about right,’ I giggled, despite my desperate mood. ‘Thanks, James. Nice wand by the way,’ I added, nodding at his nether-regions as I stepped through the door.
‘Thanks, honey. I get that a lot,’ he grinned. ‘If only the right bloody people noticed it!’
I elbowed my way through the crowd of people, checking my phone as I went. Even in my distracted state, I could see there were some great costumes - everyone had gone to a great deal of effort. Outfits ranged from cute animal onesies to the very outlandish, human-sized whoopee cushions. Some outfits were, I might even go so far as to say, shocking. I mean, a green glitter mankini? Really? Yuck. Yet, strangely, it was impossible not to gawp.
I could hear Siobhan’s bellowing voice long before I spotted her. She was making an attempt to sing along to Wham’s ‘Last Christmas’. Entering the lounge, I spotted Siobhan just in time to witness her humping session with the Christmas tree go horribly wrong. In some sort of grotesque finale, she took a tumble backwards, pulling the tree down on top of herself with a huge crash. Baubles and bits of tinsel flew into the air and the tree itself was plunged into darkness as the fairy lights gave up against the relentless assault from Siobhan.
For a few moments the room was plunged into silence. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked over, unsure of how to react. Everyone, except James, that is. He’d clearly abandoned his door duty and was now up on a chair wiggling his toosh and his magic wand (the plastic one) about in the air. I’m not sure he’d even registered our friend’s predicament.
I hurried over to see if Siobhan was okay. From what I could see, she was comatose, as she lay trapped under the tree with her legs wrapped around it. One of her hands was sticking out from between the branches, still grasping an empty wine bottle.
‘Siobhan!’ I yelped, pushing the tinsel aside and plunging my hand into the foliage so I could force open one of her eyelids. ‘It’s only 9:30! Have you been on the sauce all day?’
‘Feck… what? I wuv you, Tara… I wuv everyone,’ she slurred.
‘James, get down from your stage and get me some water for Siobhan will you?’ I yelled across the room. Most people had already decided the show was over and had drifted off as someone had cranked Lady Gaga up to full blast.
‘But ‘Poker Face’ is my song!’ whined James. ‘Can I get the water in a minute? Actually, where’s that lard-arse of a donkey, Jayde? She can get it.’
‘James, I don’t care who gets it, just please hurry up,’ I said in my best I’m-in-no-mood-for-messing-about voice.
‘Ugh! Fine!’
Still wiggling his toosh, James minced off to the kitchen and shortly returned with a glass of water. It was hopeless though, I couldn’t get near Siobhan’s mouth. We needed another strategy. I began barking instructions.
‘James, go and find me some strong men to help get this Christmas tree up and then get Madame onto the couch.’
Gawd, I am so wasted on this lot, I thought. I’d make a bloody brilliant parent. Look at how effortlessly I take charge in a crisis. None of this lot are lifting a finger. If it weren’t for me, Siobhan would be trapped until morning!
Then suddenly I had an awful thought. What if something dreadful had happened to Travis? What if he had been in a car accident somewhere and veered off the road and no one had noticed? Or worse, what if he had been kidnapped and held up for ransom? OMG, maybe I should call the police or something? Mind you - and say what? ‘Err, my boyfriend - possibly my potential husband (who I’ve actually only known a few days), seems to have disappeared and is not responding to my text messages and his phone is constantly going to voicemail?’
‘There aren’t any decent men - believe-me - I’ve already checked,’ shouted James, above the din of the opening lines of a Spice Girls track, forcing me to tear my thoughts back to the here-and-now.
‘I’ll go and pull Jayde’s head out the fridge,’ James sniggered. ‘She’s the closest thing we have to a strong bloke. She’s built like a brick shit house.’
However, James couldn’t find Jayde anywhere. She’d completely disappeared - which she seemed to do a lot of lately. Luckily, while James was looking for her, he managed to gather a group of willing bodies, and together we managed to heave the Christmas tree off Siobhan. I moved swiftly to get the baubles out from her bra but I needn’t have bothered. She looked a terrible state. Her St. Trinian’s outfit was now a complete mess, her stockings full of ladders and her skirt was tucked into her knickers.
Hauling Siobhan onto the nearest couch, I called to James; ‘Okay, James - give Siobhan that glass of water.’
‘Open wide, Siobhan,’ he said, yanking her head up by one of her pigtails and pouring a huge glug of water down her throat. ‘There’s a good girl.’
‘This water tastes as good as feckin’ vodka!’ Siobhan sputtered, as her tongue lapped up the remaining liquid around her face.
‘Oops, my mistake,’ said James sheepishly after whiffing the few drops left in the glass. ‘I could have sworn it was water.’
‘James!’ I shouted in horror. ‘She’s had far too much already! She’s gonna be as sick as a flippin’ pig!’
As if to prove my point, Siobhan immediately pulledthat face. Oh feck, it was the oh-my-god-I’m-going-to-puke-on-you face.
‘Shite, are you going to be sick?’ I asked, preparing for a dive out of the way.
‘EVERYBODY OUT - NOW!! SHE’S GUNNA BLOW!’
With that, I heard my phone go off. I’d left it on the side table in all the excitement (but I reckon I’d have heard a message drop if it was two miles away). Ecstatic, I promptly dropped Siobhan’s head that I had been cradling. It landed with a sickening thud.
‘Oh shite, sorry!’ I shouted back to Siobhan as I dived over to my handbag to retrieve my phone. ‘Hang on Siobhan - don’t be sick yet. Travis has text me!’
Flipping open my phone I saw I had more than one message. Beaming with excitement, I scrolled through them. Arse, feck, shite. Not one of them were from him. The bastard. The only one that was vaguely interesting was one from Jackie saying she wasn’t coming to the party ‘for personal reasons’. The rest were all “before the sun sets… happy clappy New Years wishes” and all that nonsense. Honestly? I couldn’t give a flying feck about the sun setting.
I turned back around to my patient, only to discover she had clambered her way off the couch, and was now standing, green-faced, with the unsteadiness of a one-year-old learning to walk. That wasn’t the real problem though. Looking on, I could see Siobhan’s face contorting as she began to wretch, her eyes widening. I grabbed the nearest thing to me - which turned out to be a Christmas stocking - and held it out for her. Of course, she missed the stocking completely. Sadly, I couldn’t say the same for my outfit, which bore the full brunt of Siobhan’s projected stomach contents.
‘I feel feckin’ great now!’ spluttered Siobhan, who had somehow miraculously and instantly recovered.
‘Where’s the feckin’ party gone? I need a drink!’
However, after taking one wobbly step forward, her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she collapsed face first on the floor. I stood there with my mouth open, dropped the stocking and held my arms out in disbelief.
‘Great, just bloody great!’ covered in vomit, I tiptoed out to the kitchen with my face looking like a slapped arse. I poked my head around the door to find James had moved stage and was now on the kitchen table doing the YMCA.
‘James, I’m having a nightmare,’ I said, trying not to breathe in as I talked - the stench of Siobhan’s sick was making me feel nauseous. ‘Can you watch Siobhan? And DO NOT give her any more alcohol. I need to go and get changed.’
Pissed off, I stomped up the stairs into the bathroom, peeled off my not so sexy hired outfit, showered and thudded into Siobhan’s bedroom. I flung open the wardrobe, flicked morosely through its contents and eventually I opted to put on one of her Juicy Couture tracksuits. Checking my hair and makeup in the mirror, I couldn’t help but think about Travis once again. I couldn’t believe he still hadn’t text me. The tosspot. He’s probably down the gym working out those fantastic abs - just when those abs should be working out on me.
The party was still in full swing downstairs. I could hear all the commotion as I descended into the madness once again. Feeling more miserable than ever, I headed to my bag and got out my phone. It was now 10:15pm. No new messages. In a huff and utterly fed up with watching everyone else having a good time snogging under the mistletoe, I burst into the kitchen in search of disinfectant and rubber gloves. As I was rummaging around the cupboards, I heard what sounded like Siobhan shouting: ‘Jam it up her arse!’
I looked round to find Jayde (who had finally appeared after her mysterious absence) doing her best at running in her homemade donkey outfit. The costume was just a grey t-shirt (three sizes too small), accompanied by leggings that (bless her), gave her an awful camel-toe that she was completely oblivious about. It was completed with a set of wonky ears on a headband. Yet, that wasn’t the most ludicrous part of the picture. Jayde was being chased around the room by James and Siobhan…! SIOBHAN!? She had puked all over me not even half an hour ago and now she’s running around with another glass of wine in her hand!