Jennifer held her mobile in her hands, paranoid as she wondered whether to call Sophie or not. Generally she was a fabulous sister, if a little square on the men front, but Jen wasn’t sure how Sophie would react to her latest shenanigans. She felt like shit. It was taking her at least 4 days to recover lately and the thoughts of another weekend filled her with dread. She was caught in the spiral of taking so much coke that she didn’t care who the man was that she left with – as long as he was male – that’s where the criteria began and ended. Her perpetual runny nose was irritating her and she hated the way that she had to continually sniff! She looked down at her gel nails with their squared whitened tips and focussed on the backs of her hands. The fake tan had settled in darker lines in the maze of tiny diamond-shaped wrinkles that spanned her hands. She felt sick as she remembered how the backs of her hands were once as smooth as foie gras and resented the signs of age that were creeping up on her. She was tired of feeling ill and exhausted with the pretence that her life was one social whirl of dates, parties and beauty salon appointments. It didn’t help that her mother rang once a week from America and recounted numerous stories of her perfect life and perfect man and perfect perfect perfection! It reinforced her low self-esteem despite her pretending to clamber back up the helter skelter slide of self-worth – Jen hated herself and her life. She felt like a failure as a woman, as a daughter, as a lover and as a sister.
*
Trevor drove his car around to the mechanics garage. He’d booked it in for its MOT at 2.30 and was desperate to get it sorted. He figured that he couldn’t attract the women without his wheels and the mechanic he’d spoken to had assured him that he’d have his motor back by the end of the day. He was meeting Sophie in the afternoon and his interview with her would be the ultimate way to pass the couple of hours while he waited for the car. He had been fleetingly disappointed when she’d declined his request to go to dinner, but he hadn’t wasted time looking for a replacement. He was going to get laid tonight one way or the other – and there were plenty of women listed on his mobile. He’d have someone sitting in Sophie’s empty chair at the restaurant before the afternoon was out.
*
I’ve emailed Adrian to say that I can’t go to the gig. I’m really gutted that I can’t go, but Tamsin needs me tonight. I can just see the slogan ‘missed opportunity’ written all over this, but friends have to come first, don’t they? I’m on my way to meet Trevor Malone and give him the interview he wants; I’m expecting him to be very cheeky and naughty with his questions, so I’m prepared….
*
Tamsin knew that Rob and Soph would scream at her, but she had to cancel them coming around tonight. She hated the fact that she was going to have to lie to them both, but in the light that she’d actually told them both that Pete was married, and his wife was now pregnant, she suspected that they’d both crucify her if they knew that she’d arranged to meet him tonight.
Just to talk.
Just for a while.
Chapter Thirty Two
