Page 53 of Never Gonna Happen

‘Oh my God,’ said Carol, covering her face with her hands. ‘This is terrible. He stayed in our house. He used our wonky shower. He saw the state of my oven.’ Each statement became increasingly loud and shrill, until nearby tables stopped talking to check somebody wasn’t having a medical emergency.

Emily laughed. ‘Don’t be daft. He’s not like that. He said it was the best Christmas he’s ever had.’

‘Did he really?’ asked Martin.

‘Yeah,’ said Emily, smiling at them both. ‘He doesn’t get on very well with his brother or sister. Or his mum, for that matter.’

‘Poor love,’ mused Carol, taking a huge swig of her white wine. ‘They say that about privileged children, don’t they? I read a book once about a rich boy who was raised in this massive house without love. Murdered his parents in the end; stabbed his father with a gold letter opener and cracked his mother’s skull with a glass paperweight.’

Emily snorted into her drink, setting Kelly off again.

‘Why didn’t you tell us, Moo?’ asked Martin.

‘Because you’d have got in a right state about it, it was such short notice. I wanted you to be normal around him.’

‘And why wouldn’t you,’ said Kelly drily, gesturing at the assembled group, ‘when normal looks like this?’

Emily and Kelly leaned against the bar, waiting to be served. It was three deep in places, packed with a mix of locals and groups from across town who came for the craft beers, the cocktail menu and the Saturday live music. Emily spotted a guy they’d gone to school with – Chris? Craig? He held his drink up and nodded towards Kelly, who was too busy pushing her boobs together with her elbows in the hope of catching the barman’s eye to notice.

‘You’ve got an admirer,’ said Emily. ‘Didn’t we go to school with him?’

Kelly looked up and squinted across the bar. ‘Oh God, Craig Nicholas,’ she muttered. ‘I’d rather sprinkle pollen on my tits and staple them to a beehive.’

Emily laughed. ‘Wow, that bad?’

‘He’s known locally as Plague Syphilis. He’s a walking STD.’ She turned back to the bar and scowled. ‘Honestly, what’s the point of having a body like this if I can’t even use it to get a drink?’

‘I wouldn’t know,’ said Emily, who’d always been envious of Kelly’s petite frame and bombshell curves, although she sometimes wondered if big boobs would get in the way of her swimming and running. Also it was nice to be able to wear a dress without a bra occasionally, which was definitely not an option for Kelly.

‘I thought your mum and dad took that well,’ said Kelly, having secured a nod from the barman that communicated I’ve seen you, and you’re next. ‘Ready for round two?’

‘Weirdly, this bit feels harder,’ replied Emily.

‘Why? It’s your job, they always knew there might be some travelling. Not that I’m not insanely jealous, obviously.’

‘I know, but I don’t want them to think I’ve got all fancy. Like this place. They actually preferred it when the furniture was screwed down and the barmen wore knuckledusters.’

‘But you like it better like this?’

‘Don’t you?’

‘Fuck, yes. It’s OK to want more than this place, Em. You can aspire to nicer bars and rich boyfriends and posh trips. How much money your family have, the school we went to, none of that counts for shit.’

‘I know.’

‘You’re like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. You want the fairy tale.’

‘She was a prostitute, Kel.’

‘Oh yeah. Sorry.’

Kelly put the tray of drinks on the table and sat back down with her pint, smiling expectantly at Emily.

‘You OK, Mum?’ asked Emily.

‘I’m still reeling, Moo,’ said Carol, gulping her wine like she’d just finished a triathlon. ‘That’s quite a lot of news for one night.’

‘Actually that’s only half the news,’ said Emily.