Is that someone knocking at the door? I listen carefully for a second. No, it’s not, it’s the sound of my poor brain banging against my skull.
Oh God, why did I drink so much last night? And it’s not exactly like that was my biggest faux pas of the evening, was it? Getting kicked out of my cousin’s hen party for inviting an ageing, sexed-up stripper to a tearoom is probably top of the list. I’m definitely going to have to do some kind of damage control for that little incident today – lest I find myself uninvited to the wedding.
Crashing the stag do probably wasn’t too bright either. I’m pretty sure I upset Howard, and… oh shit.
Lying here, thinking what a mess I’ve made, it did occur to me I’ve been sleeping at a funny angle, but until now I have credited my hangover with my discomfort. I wait for a second, for my brain and my memory to synchronise, painting a picture of last night that is increasing in clarity by the second.
I open my eyes and, yep, I’ve slept on the sofa, on top of Jack, completely naked. Suddenly every single detail about last night comes crashing back, giving my headache a surge of power that reaches a whole new level of pain.
Jack looks so peaceful, still fast asleep. I – glancing down at my body – am lying at such an angle, I’m giving off beached-whale vibes. You know those pictures you see of seemingly skinny models on Instagram showing off how they look when they pose, versus the very slight ‘rolls’ they have when they sit down? Like that, but with bigger rolls.
Now I have the big problem of wanting to move and run away from this situation immediately, but at the same time not wanting Jack to see me completely naked in the harsh light of day.
Why did I have sex with him? Why? Why? There’s so much wrong with this. The obvious fact that he must sleep with girls and then never speak to them again, given that he’s never had a girlfriend, even though he’s so clearly a ladies man, is going to pretty much be all it takes to finish off my last remaining shreds of self-confidence, but on top of that – am I paying for this? Like, is this included in the $12k I’m going to be handing over at the end of all this? Have I stooped so low now that my sex life involves paying men who are much hotter than me to sleep with me? All of this is bad, but the worst thing of all is that in one, silly moment of drunken lust and weakness, I have consummated the marriage I was only a matter of days away from annulling. Just like that, my marriage is completely valid, and in the eyes of the law I now need a proper divorce, which is going to be messy, and embarrassing, and there goes the stupid, romantic notion I’d been hanging on to that I’d marry once, for life.
I notice a fur throw hanging over the back of the sofa. If I can just grab it with my toes I can pull it over my body, wake Jack up, make my excuses and get out of here before the inevitable awkward conversation that is sure to follow.
I finally manage to spread the throw out, covering the parts of my body I’d rather Jack didn’t see, just in time before he wakes up.
‘Good morning,’ he says brightly before wincing. ‘Ouch,’ he laughs, raising his hand to his head. ‘That’ll be the bourbon.’
‘Hi,’ I say weakly. ‘I, er, I need to get up and go to school.’
Jack looks at me, puzzled.
No, we haven’t flashed back in time, JJ Abrams doesn’t have creative control over my life.
‘I’ve just been thinking. I should probably go see my Auntie Di, apologise for last night,’ I explain. ‘See if she can smooth things over between me and Fliss before the rehearsal dinner tonight.’
‘Yeah, good idea,’ he says. ‘You want me to come with you?’
‘No, no,’ I insist, a little too quickly. ‘You go to the hotel, check us in and I’ll meet you there later.’
‘OK,’ Jack says brightly, although it seems a little put on. I think he’s suddenly picking up on the incredibly awkward atmosphere. ‘You want some breakfast before you go?’
‘I’m fine,’ I insist, again, too quickly. ‘She’s deputy head at the local secondary school. I remember her saying last night she had to pop in for half a day today. I should probably try to catch her during morning break,’ I add, hoping he doesn’t think I’m rushing off because of him. Even though I am. Because I can’t face getting friend-zoned and talking about divorces this morning.
‘OK,’ he says again. ‘I’m going to go grab a drink and, er, give you some privacy, I guess.’
I guess that means he’s noticed I’m holding this cover practically up to my eyes.
‘Yeah, catch you later,’ I call after him as he leaves the room.
I wrap the fur throw around me like a toga before dashing upstairs to get dressed.
What a difference a week makes. Last week, the most exciting thing that happened in the bedroom was trying to find the remote, lost in the bed during a Netflix binge. I was engaged. All of my outfits covered my knees. And now, here I am, an absolute hot mess with fake hair, fake nails and a fake life that I’m peddling to my nearest and dearest. Oh, and I’m sleeping with emotionally unavailable men because I’m a rebounding idiot. If you’re going to destroy your self-confidence, you might as well completely obliterate it.
I get dressed and leave without so much as hollering goodbye to Jack as I close the door, which doesn’t feel great, but I’m scared to talk to him.
My auntie works at the secondary school Fliss and I attended growing up – the one Jacob is currently studying for his A-levels at. As I approach the school gates, a wave of memories comes flooding back. That’s the tree where the rebellious kids used to smoke. That’s the wall we used to throw a tennis ball against when we were bored. Over there is the corner Howard and I used to sneak around so we could kiss without an audience.
I hear the breaktime bell sound before a swarm of children pours from the double doors with an urgency they probably didn’t display on their way in earlier this morning. I wait for the stream of kids to slow down before dashing inside.
I suppose it’s a risky move, that could somehow land me on some kind of register if it goes wrong, but my plan is to just wander inside and hope she’s in her office.
The school hasn’t changed much since I attended and I know where the deputy head’s office is, so she’s bound to be there… I hope.
It’s like swimming against the tide as I push my way in, but I finally find myself in the main corridor. Students and teachers are moving around the school, but no one is giving me a second glance. I notice a couple of my old teachers, but no one recognises me, which means I must have changed quite a bit in recent years.
In a matter of minutes I am outside Di’s office – I know it’s hers for sure because her name is on the door. I can’t see inside because the windows are covered in paper, to give her some privacy when she’s chewing out kids, I imagine, but I can tell someone is inside because I can see light shining around the edges of the glass.
I knock on the door nervously (old habits die hard) and wait until she says so before I open it. Di doesn’t look up as I walk through the door, continuing to read whatever is on the piece of paper in her hand.
‘Hello,’ I say as I gingerly take a seat on the other side of her desk.
Di must immediately recognise my voice because she looks up straight away.
‘Georgina, what are you doing here?’ she asks, getting that little bit angrier after each word she utters.
‘I came to talk to you.’
‘Who let you in?’
‘I sort of let myself in.’ I giggle nervously, but my auntie isn’t amused.
‘Georgina, you can’t just walk into a school. No one knows if you’re a paedophile or a gun-wielding maniac – you could get in big trouble. What were you thinking?’
‘In reply to that, all I can say is that perhaps you need to assess certain security issues you may or may not have. I didn’t shimmy up the drainpipe and drop in through an air vent – I walked in through an open door.’
‘Look, what do you want?’ she asks, clearly annoyed at my take on school security.
‘I just wanted to apologise for last night,’ I say sincerely. ‘I heard Fliss talking about strippers earlier that day, and I completely misunderstood the situation. I thought she was hinting she wanted one – she wasn’t – and then I only booked one to make her happy. And I’m sorry for the, er, calibre of gentleman I booked. But it was last-minute and there was a degree of dishonesty on his part.’
‘Any more excuses?’ my auntie asks.
‘They’re not excuses,’ I insist. ‘I’m just trying to explain. We were all chatting, and Kaz said we should—’
‘If Kaz said you should jump off a cliff, would you do it?’ my auntie asks, in full-on teacher mode.
‘I didn’t come to make excuses,’ I tell her. ‘I came here to apologise, and see if you’ll speak to Fliss and tell her how sorry I am, so there’s no awkwardness tonight.’
‘Well, I can’t make any promises,’ my auntie says. ‘But I’ll try.’
‘That’s all I can ask for,’ I reply. ‘I’ll get going then.’
‘Yes,’ my auntie says. ‘Try not to commit any more crimes on your way out, please.’
I leave the school just as the kids are slowly shuffling back inside for their next lesson. As I exhale deeply and run my hands through my hair, out of the corner of my eye I notice my little brother sitting on the wall with Becka – and they’re holding hands. We make eye contact and Jacob smiles at me before going all embarrassed because he’s with a girl. He says something to her and then wanders over to me.
‘Hey, you,’ I say cheerily.
‘Hi,’ he replies. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I came to see Auntie Di,’ I tell him. He doesn’t need to know the weird details. ‘I see Becka is here,’ I point out with a smile.
‘She came to meet me for lunch,’ he whispers. ‘Don’t tell Mum, but I just asked her to be my girlfriend and she said yes.’
‘That’s great news,’ I shriek as I grab my little bro for a big hug.
‘Get off,’ Jacob laughs as he struggles free. ‘People can see!’
‘Whatever. I’m happy for you.’
‘Thank you,’ Jacob tells me.
‘What for? Embarrassing you in front of the squad?’ I tease, nodding towards his friends who are nearby.
‘No, for giving me the confidence to ask Becka out. I couldn’t have done it without you,’ he says sincerely.
Oh God, my tiny brother is growing up. It seems like just yesterday he was sitting in his bedroom with his mates building toy aeroplane models… well, actually, that was just yesterday, but the fact he has a girlfriend is enough to shock me into realising that not only is he growing up, but I am way older than I see myself.
‘Come here,’ I say, grabbing him again for another hug.
‘Georgie, get off,’ he chuckles as he tried to wiggle free again.
‘Jake,’ Becka calls over.
‘Coming,’ he calls back.
‘Oh, you let her call you Jake,’ I reply as I give him a playful shove. ‘Go on, go get us those As your sister never managed,’ I say, mocking my mum’s voice.
‘Bye,’ he replies, running off to join his girlfriend and his mates.
At least someone’s love life is going well.