was an effing disaster.
She lunged at herself. Her hands went straight through her own arms.
“We’ve got to stop her! I mean me!" she said.
“This is your past. You can’t change the past,” the Spirit said as she twirled gently to the music on the dance floor, making her skirt rustle.
“But she is going to be devastated. Mortified. For years she is not going to be able to look at champagne, never mind drink it. Or rather I won't." Edie was desperate and confused.
She had to stop herself from making this mistake. Again.
“You can’t change the past,” repeated the Ghost.
“Well I’m going to try!” she said.
She hurried across the dance floor, the dancers somehow avoiding her as if a force field surrounded her.
Her stomach felt as if it were round her ankles. Her skin flushed and then paled as she remembered; it crawled in repulsion at her stupidity. She’d relived it time and time again, woken up sweating on many nights. She couldn’t go through it again.
She burst out of the marquee into the deep dark night. The stars scattered across the sky, twinkling down, winking at her. Was the whole world laughing at her?
“Ow!” she heard a muffled shout.
It was beginning… her teenage self had just tripped over the guy rope to the marquee. If she turned around she would see herself. Her dress would’ve flown up and she’d be sprawled across the ground.
She turned.
Yes, there she was.
And she really had shown her knickers to the world.
“I’m fine. I’m fine,” young Edie said, voice high and squeaky.
“Give me your hand,” Tom said putting down the stolen bottle.
He held out a hand and hauled her up.
Old Edie had to stop this.
“Edie!” she shouted, “Edie, go back inside!”
No one answered.
She jogged over to the teenage couple and tried to grab young Edie’s arm. It passed straight through as if she were a ghost.
“You’re only a visitor here,” the small muffled voice came from the vicinity of her elbow.
“Really?” She was getting annoyed. “Well if that is the case where did you get the sausage roll?”
The Spirit gave a fake smile as she carried on eating the stolen sausage roll, then turned back to the couple in front of them.
“Oh dear”
Edie looked up.
Young Edie was attempting to pout sexily whilst leaning against a tree. It was less a pout and more a scowl.
And it was just about to get much worse.
“So can I have a drink then?” Edie junior croaked.
She really hadn’t purred in the sexy way she had thought.
“Have you got a cold or something? Because I’m not having your germs!” Tom asked.
“No,” she coughed. “No, I’m fine. No germs, honest.”
No germs. Nothing contagious. Because it isn’t like you can catch stupidity, the older Edie thought.
Tom passed over the bottle of champagne and young Edie took a large swig from it.
The watching woman’s nose itched in sympathy as the bubbles hit the teenager and started her sneezing.
“You have got a cold! Sheesh, Edie! I’ve got my exams coming up I can’t be ill!”
“No! It was the bubbles. I’m really OK.” She spluttered.
For a few minutes they stood sharing the bottle, passing it back and forth. The memory of that night came back to Edie and she remembered her mind had been racing like a hamster in a wheel trying to think of something witty to say. And how the champagne was acidic on her stressed stomach, making it roil queasily.
“Hey Tom!”
And suddenly there was Justin, and Edie was now the third wheel.
The relief on Tom’s face was just as hard to see a second time.
“Champagne! Good one! Hand it over, Dick!” Justin swaggered up.
Both Edie’s top lips curled at the offensive contraction of her surname. But the younger one silently gave up the bottle.
“Ciggie?” Justin expertly tapped out a cigarette from a pack he conjured up from his pocket.
Tom took one like a proper smoker and then the pack was in front of Edie.
“Don’t do it,” she whispered. Please let this young Edie make a different choice. “Don’t do it.” Her hand was at her mouth.
The teen reached out and inexpertly took a cigarette. It looked awkward in her straight fingers, the tube of tobacco too near the palm.
A flame erupted from the Justin's lighter and the two boys leant forward and lit their cigarettes.
Teen Edie leant forward, the cigarette trembling in her hand.
The sudden smell of burnt hair and hairspray fought with the jasmine.
“Silly mare, you’ll go up in flames!” Tom pulled her back and peered through the gloom at her fringe.
“You’ve taken off at least an inch. Here, take mine.”
Tom passed over his cigarette and took Edie’s unlit one; which he soon had lit.
The larger Edie groaned.
“That bad, huh?” the little Ghost whispered mesmerised by the scene, the half-eaten sausage roll was hovering by her mouth.
Bad? The worst was just a few drags away.
The glowing end of the cigarette wavered as she brought it up to her mouth. The teenage Edie sucked on it quickly and coughed out the smoke immediately.
“Have you never done this before?” Justin asked.
“Of course I have,” she spluttered.
“Yeah right! Well you’re supposed to inhale,” he said and proceeded to demonstrate.
Edie lifted the cigarette again. This time she inhaled.
The memory of the acrid smoke filling her
