Girls Night Out 3 E-Book Bundle. Gemma Burgess

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      I feel like looking invincible and effortless tonight, because I feel just the opposite on the inside. So I take out my new Topshop jeans that make me feel extremely tall and thin, and pair them with a super-lightweight white vest. I add a blazer and a long, skinny red scarfy thing, and put on a pair of boots that add a good four inches to my height.

      Invincible. But effortless. Yes.

      Halfway through blow-drying my hair, Robert knocks on my door.

      ‘Room service.’ He walks in with a Bloody Mary and two crumpets smothered liberally with peanut butter. ‘I thought you might want to line your stomach.’

      ‘How did you know I love crumpets?’ I say, delightedly. ‘I thought I’d run out.’

      ‘You’ve always got a crumpet attached to your face on weekends, it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out . . .’ he says. ‘I picked them up on the way home. And everyone loves Bloody Marys.’

      ‘Thank you . . . but I don’t think I should drink again. Ever.’

      ‘A Bloody Mary isn’t drinking, it’s like nature’s Solpadeine.’

      I look at him expressionlessly and sip the Bloody Mary.

      ‘Wowsers, that’s good . . . You’ve shaved,’ I comment.

      ‘You told me to,’ he replies. ‘Did you just say “wowsers”? Like Inspector Gadget?’

      The next half hour is a mix of chewing, slurping, makeupping and smiling. I almost feel better. The Bloody Mary is extremely spicy. The peanut butter is chewy and just a tiny bit salty. And my make-up is – God bless it – working wonders. I need a little extra highlighter and concealer tonight, but apart from that I look surprisingly alright. I’ve had about 10 hours sleep, I guess.

      I suddenly feel inexplicably cheerful.

      I wonder what Robert has planned for us tonight. I hope it’s fun.

      I check my phone for the first time since this morning. Seven missed calls and four texts. I love feeling popular. The texts are from Sophie, Josh From HR and ohfucktwofromSkinnyJeansguy. I listen to a message from Mum, asking me about my bridesmaid dress preference. No one else left a message. Everyone I know is too impatient to bother leaving a voicemail.

      Sophie: So I hear you’ve been a very bad girl. Details.

      Josh From HR: Hi!!! What are you up to this weekend? Fancy a catch-up? Maybe dinner in SW17? xxx

      Skinny Jeans: Devastated. I am devastated that you would leave me like this. x

      Skinny Jeans: Well, you can ignore me, but I had a great night. Let me know if you fancy it again some time.

      ‘Fuuuuuuuck,’ I say to myself, and flop facedown on my bed and moan. I feel sick again.

      If I was going to have the first one-night-stand of my life, wouldn’t it be good if I could actually remember it?

      And yes, by the way, it was definitely a one-night-stand. I’m too mortified given my drunkenness, and I don’t want to see him again, anyway. He’s kind of cute, but his anecdotes centred largely on getting stoned. I kept thinking, Stick it out, Abigail, this is experience, this is experience . . .

      I’m going to be brutal, as per Robert’s instructions. Josh From HR is just ew, and Skinny Jeans . . . I can’t face it. So I won’t. For some reason, the decision to ignore them both makes me feel stronger and in control.

      I flip through the rest of my texts from last night. They’re all from Robert, all in reply to apparent text questions from me. From the end of the night, backwards:

      1.32 am I am sleeping Abigail.

      12.37 am Don’t worry about it. Lots of people get caught snogging in bar toilets.

      12.20 am Have a glass of water. I don’t speak drunk.

      11.57 pm Maybe he doesn’t know what comatose means.

      11.41 pm Everyone’s seen Pretty In Pink. He’s lying. PS I can’t believe you’d choose Stef.

      11.37 pm Try this, then. Ducky versus Blaine – who should Andie have picked?

      11.16 pm How about this: You look like the kind of guy who sings in a choir. Am I right?

      10.24 pm Dater’s block, huh. Very funny. Try complimenting him on something he’s wearing in a slightly sarcastic way.

      9.43 pm Relax. Are you even having fun? Did you have a shot? Remember, you can always leave.

      We were kicked out of a bar for snogging in the toilets?

      I never want to see Skinny Jeans again. It will be easy because I am never going to get off my bedroom floor. I will die here. Of mortification.

      I moan at the ceiling pathetically for a few seconds.

      Ooh, text.

      It’s Henry.

      Abigay. What are you doing tonight and can I join?

      I invite him along, and resume my position.

      It’s at this second that I remember that I have not had a bikini wax since quite a long time before Peter and I broke up. My moan turns into a loud squeal of anguish.

      ‘What now?’ Robert is in my doorway again.

      ‘Nothing,’ I say sulkily. ‘My friend Henry is coming along, by the way.’

      ‘Tell Uncle Robbie what’s wrong,’ he says, coming into the room and crouching down next to me.

      I sigh, and meet his amused eyes. ‘I just realised that I have not had a bikini wax in a long time. It’s pretty bad. I should have had a sign on my knickers saying Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter Here.’

      ‘Only the penitent man shall pass, huh?’ Robert starts laughing. ‘Hey. I hear the full bush is coming back into fashion anyway.’

      ‘“The full bush”? Says who, the pubic topiary style mavens?’ I pause. ‘I’m sorry I bothered you so much. With the texts, I mean.’

      ‘There was nothing good on TV. It was a nice distraction.’

      ‘You were at home?’ Robert is never home on a Thursday.

      ‘Of course not. I was with bowler-hat girl. She has a TV in her bedroom.’

      ‘That’s nice.’ I peer at him through my fingers. ‘I’m a woman of easy virtue,’ I add mournfully.

      ‘Oh, come on. What is this, 1955? No one is judging you except yourself.’

      ‘Sleeping with a virtual stranger and being too drunk to even remember it is a pretty bad fucking mistake, Robert. It’s just not something I do. Ever . . .’

      ‘Just shake СКАЧАТЬ