Page 19

I shake my head vigorously.

‘No, I can’t do this,’ I tell them, finding my voice. ‘I’ll stick with my mostly stubbly legs, thank you very much.’

Mel looks disappointed but nods.

‘Fine, fine. Some people can take it, some can’t,’ she says. ‘How about I do your make-up instead? I’ve been practising my smoky eyes, and I have a lip stain that will go perfectly.’

She holds up a little palette full of warm browns, burnt oranges and copper shimmer that actually looks quite nice.

I sigh with relief. Anything but more waxing.

‘Okay, sure,’ I say. ‘Just… gently, please.’

Mel smiles triumphantly.

‘It’s going to look fab, trust me,’ she says, grabbing her make-up bag. ‘And tonight is the night we’re going to find you a man, any man, to go home with. Honestly, you’ve been home two weeks. Single-me would’ve had at least five men by now.’

I don’t trust her at all. Not with my make-up or finding me a man.

As Mel starts on my make-up, I close my eyes and try to relax. Anything is better than the waxing.

Thank God I didn’t let her near my bikini line.

9

We’re at the Ghost – again. Well, there aren’t many other places to go (not where Mel gets free drinks) and I am actually obsessed with looking for my dream man, who I am starting to think I dreamt, because in hindsight he does seem a bit too perfect to be true. Actually, scratch that. If he was perfect then he would have been wearing a name badge.

Outside, the evening has turned crisp and dark, and every time the pub door opens, a little gust of cold air sneaks in.

Mel and Angie have gone to the toilets – no doubt to talk about me and how they’re going to get me a man tonight – so I’m currently on my own. When Mel said she was going to give me smoky eyes she wasn’t kidding; I look like a goth, and my lip stain is an intense shade of red, almost like blood, and it still feels so wet on my lips, I’m scared to touch it.

It’s absolutely packed in here tonight, and I don’t have much luck with getting served at the bar, so I’ve no choice but to order a drink from Tim, Angie’s husband – Angie’s husband and my ex.

‘Can I have a Kapop, please?’

‘What flavour, gorgeous?’ he asks.

‘Whatever the green one is, please.’ I remember my lips. ‘And a straw.’

Tim has been weirdly flirting with me ever since I got back. Only in a small way, and not with any sort of intention. I think it’s just the novelty of me being his ex and suddenly reappearing.

‘This is on me,’ Tim says as he hands me my drink, but before I have the chance to say anything he opens his mouth again. ‘Actually, I don’t get paid until the end of the month, but I’ll give you the money for it then.’

‘It’s fine,’ I say with a laugh, handing him some money.

‘So, you got dumped, eh?’

Wow, good news travels fast. That must have come from Angie, who got it from Mel – I wonder how much my mum told them.

‘Bye, Tim,’ I tell him, grabbing my drink before wandering off through the crowd. No way am I going to sit here chatting to my ex about what a mess my love life is.

I take a sip and, oh my God, green flavour tastes like toxic waste. I cough and splutter, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, trying to stop myself from spewing out a cloud of Kapop like some kind of crappy fire-eater.

I make my way across the dance floor, weaving through the crowd, clutching my drink carefully. I can see Mel and Angie at the other side of the room so I set off in their direction, only for someone to collide with me, knocking my bottle from my hand. I stumble, almost losing my balance, but a firm grip catches me by the hand, keeping me upright.

‘I’m so sorry—’ he begins, but his voice trails off. He looks at me, his eyes widening in recognition. I stare back, my heart skipping a beat as I realise who it is. Oh my God!

‘Si?’ I blurt, almost breathless.