‘So, Dawn, tell us what your porn name would be – remember, it’s your first pet’s name and your street name from your first house.’ They’d all been playing ‘Porn Names’, some party game that their host Andrew swore would ‘get the party started’. His words.
Dawn shifted nervously in her seat. She really didn’t like being centre of attention; she hadn’t expected party games.
‘Um, Bunnykins Primrose.’
The whole room burst out laughing. ‘Oh, Dawn, that’s hilarious!’ screamed Victoria. Dawn tried to smile. Her mouth was dry and her lips stuck to her teeth. ‘Tell me you owned a rabbit as your fist pet!
‘Yes, yes, we did, it was a Dwarf Lop, actually, cute little thing, not dwarf-like at all—’
‘We had horses,’ cut in Victoria as she cast her eyes around the table. ‘Used to ride every day when I was growing up.’ She flashed a smile at her audience.
Yes, of course she did. Good God, not only was there competitive baking; now they had competitive pet owning. Dawn picked up her glass and knocked back the rest of her red wine. Just as swiftly, Andrew poured her some more – they really were marvellous hosts.
One of the ladies next to her, she couldn’t quite remember what her name was, nor what she did – probably a human rights lawyer – turned to her and smiled.
‘What line of work do you do, Dawn?’
She was stumped. Here we go again. I have a diploma in removing stains from Eric’s shirts, an A-level in bed making and an IB, which combines majoring in reheating tomato soup, online grocery ordering, sewing on name tapes and my minor subject is sending Christmas cards to all Eric’s relatives who don’t bother to reply.
‘I studied history or art, but um, then I ended up being a florist – long story. Loved that job. But now I stay at home.’
‘How lovely.’
Dawn studied the red lips of her neighbour and something snapped. ‘Actually, it’s not “lovely”, and I do work, I work very, very hard.’ Eric glanced over at her and his eyes widened. He put a finger up to his lips, as if to shush her. That did it.
‘Yes, I wash,’ she shouted, ‘I clean, I iron, I do the school run – that in itself is a marathon with those traffic lights at Chesterbrook junction – and I cook, yes I do.’ Suddenly she stood up. ‘I cook from scratch, I use only ORGANIC ingredients, and I clean muddy shin pads!’ she hissed, then collapsed back in her chair. The room fell silent.
Andrew came to her rescue. He came over to her, poured her more wine and squeezed her shoulder with his other hand. ‘Really, Dawn, it’s just amazing what you mothers do,’ he announced to the table. ‘I think being a stay-at-home mum is much harder than working!’ Everyone murmured their consent and slowly people started to chatter again.
As the evening wore on, Dawn wondered what had got into her. Hormones? She decided not to let it stop her from enjoying the evening. After a while, and after several glasses of wine, she discovered that the party games were getting funnier and funnier. Quite hilarious, actually, despite the haughty Victoria presiding over the table and despite her own little outburst.
The last game was charades. She loved charades! Eric would never play it at Christmas. Boring old fart she’d called him one year, which hadn’t gone down well at all. She was in front of everyone trying to mime Jurassic World – tricky. She had managed to explain that it was two words and she was bouncing around the floor, attempting to look like a dinosaur, roaring loudly – why weren’t they getting it? – especially difficult in a lilac skirt and low-cut blouse. She might have even let out a snort. Everyone was on the sofa cheering her on. ‘Go, Dawn!’ She was having some problems with ‘Jurassic’.
But just as she tried to get on all fours, the heel broke on her shoe and she slipped. Without realising, her skirt had shifted and was right up her backside. Which would have been fine if she had just flashed her knickers, she remembered hazily, but which was totally not fine in Eric’s book as she flashed a whole lot more in the spirit of the Wear No Knickers Challenge.
The last thing she remembered as Eric came rushing over to her to pull her skirt down was shouting, ‘It’s been a kick-ass evening!’