what’s the harm in that? You’re single after all. There’s no better time to be single than at Christmas. ‘Tis the season to be jolly.’
‘‘Tis the season to get drunk,’ Rachel said morosely, raising her eyebrows and downing a shot.
‘That’s the spirit!’ Amber said, lifting her glass in the air. ‘Now come on girls. I know you’re both in a lot of pain, and no, I probably don’t understand what you’re going through, but Mark is a complete twat who can’t keep his dick in his pants and Simon is blind if he can’t see that he has the most amazing woman in the world and hasn’t appreciated her. They’re both the losers!’
‘You know what, Amber, you’re right,’ Rachel said with sudden confidence as though the thought had only just dawned on her. ‘I was a good girlfriend to Mark and I would have made a great wife too. I’ve always been honest with him, put up with his snoring without complaining and even sat there massaging his back for hours when he needed to wind down from work. It is his loss! Simon’s too. Let some other fool wait on him hand and foot without so much as a thank you,’ she said, turning to Grace.
‘Exactly.’ Grace nodded in agreement. ‘We don’t need them. We chose to have them in our lives and we will be perfectly happy without them. We’re strong, independent women.’
‘Oh, I’m so relived you two are being more upbeat,’ Amber said brightly. ‘I was thinking it was going to be an evening of doom and gloom tonight. I even tried to get Kirsty from womenswear to come along with us when I was looking at dresses for the Christmas ball on my lunch break just in case you two bailed and went home early,’ she admitted.
‘Oh no, the ball,’ Rachel sighed, like it was the most important thing in the world. ‘We won’t have dates, Grace. Pervy Michael from menswear won’t leave us alone,’ she said worriedly. ‘You know what he’s like. The minute he gets wind of our breakups he’ll be on our cases, breathing down our necks and asking for dances.’
‘You’re right,’ Grace agreed, now appearing slightly dejected, with the merest little nod of her head.
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, who cares if you’re both single attending the ball?’ Amber threw her eyes upwards. ‘It’s hardly the end of the world, is it? There will be plenty of dateless people there.’
‘Like who?’ Grace questioned gravely.
Amber hesitated thoughtfully. ‘I don’t know … pervy Mike?’ She squinted her eyes and clenched her teeth as she said the words, waiting for them to chastise her.
‘Very funny,’ Rachel replied with a stern expression. ‘It’s okay for you, you go with Jack every year. You already have your handsome date.’
She was right that Amber always took Jack, but he didn’t count as a date. Not really. He was a friend, perhaps even her best friend. Her mother and Jack’s mother were best friends and had been since Amber could remember. Amber and Jack had gone to nursery together, primary school and secondary school too. They’d spent the summer holidays together, both their families going on camping trips to France. Well, Jack had the proper family, Amber thought, having a father and an older brother, Michael, too; Amber and her mother would just tag along, but it was fun, and Jack was like the brother she never had. He was the only guy to have ever seen her without make-up. The only one she would openly pick her spots and clip her toenails in front of (much to his disgust). She was completely comfortable in his company and always had been. She didn’t have to defend herself to anyone that their relationship was purely platonic. Everyone knew what they were like. They accepted how close they were. There had been only one occasion when they were sixteen and Jack had tried to kiss her. He’d just broken up with his girlfriend and if she remembered rightly, he’d been drunk. Amber had brushed him off, mortified, and he’d laughed it off the next day and apologized. They were such close friends that the encounter hadn’t changed a thing. Jack hadn’t known what he was doing, and Amber had quickly forgotten all about it.
‘You’ll both go and that’s that,’ Amber told her firmly. ‘Now get a grip and listen to what I have to say. This year we’ll go to the ball together. So what if we won’t have men with us, who cares? As Grace said, we’re single, independent women,’ she stated decisively, her head held high, ‘and I think we should make a pact to stay single and be each other’s dates. To hell with what anyone thinks. I bet we’ll have more fun than the boring work lot anyway.’
‘What about Jack?’ Grace asked.
‘Jack won’t care about going to the ball. I swear he only goes for the free booze. I’ll be doing him a favour letting him off the hook for the year. He’s constantly telling me it’s about time I got myself a real date, and now I have, with you two.’ Amber smiled. Of course, they wouldn’t be real dates either, but who really cared so long as she cheered her two friends up? Amber didn’t need a man to make her happy, and she was determined to make her friends feel the same. Christmas time was a cheerful time, there was no place to be wallowing in self-pity.
‘I agree with Amber. We don’t need dates. We’ll have more fun together anyway and I’m certainly up for it if you are?’ Grace’s eyes swept from Amber to Rachel, a relieved expression on her face as though she’d been handed a lifeline.
‘I guess it will be a good evening if we’re all going alone,’ Rachel shrugged and then added chirpily, ‘I’m quite looking forward to it now.’
‘That’s sorted then,’ Amber replied with authority. ‘Look at all the handsome men around here you can flirt with. I think that’s Jonathan from menswear over there in the far corner; we’ll get him over here soon. It’s time to have fun! ‘Tis the season to be single.’
Rachel opened her eyes, confused at first about where she was until her gaze fell on the familiar lilac curtains, which she remembered picking out when she’d been at college living at her parents’ house. Her heart plummeted and the familiar sick feeling washed over her as the betrayal hurt just as much as the moment she’d discovered the affair. The same thing happened every morning. When would she start to feel better? She knew it had only been a week and she was doing her best to focus on moving on, but she couldn’t ever imagine the heartache easing. She wondered what they were both doing now. Had Bianca moved into her flat? Was she lying in her bed with Mark, the place Rachel had been not that long ago discussing Christmas plans and holidays next year? Were they wrapped in the bedding that Rachel had picked out, costing them a fortune, their bodies entwined as they gazed into each other’s eyes with sheer joy that they could finally be together? Or did Mark find it easier going to Bianca’s flat, where there were no memories of Rachel to remind him that he was a deceitful, conniving bastard? She wondered if he knew how untidy Bianca was yet, or if he’d discovered that sometimes before bed she wouldn’t stop chatting when you just wanted to go to sleep. Mark loved his sleep. He’d detest her chatting all night. Or was it all so new, fresh and exciting that he’d rather stay up talking to Bianca, thoughts of his 6 a.m. alarm the last thing on his mind? Rachel hoped he was tired. He deserved it. The pig.
Bianca had tried calling Rachel several times, but she’d ignored her. How dare she think she could try to explain herself? Rachel honestly didn’t want to know at what point Bianca had decided to steal her boyfriend. It was like a storyline from a film or a book; it wasn’t supposed to happen in real life, and certainly not to her. She felt so stupid. Humiliated. She didn’t want to know anything whatsoever about their affair. How they just couldn’t help it, the connection between them too
