Girls Night Out 3 E-Book Bundle. Gemma Burgess

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СКАЧАТЬ even Charlotte, who seems pretty confused by the whole story but just rolls with it. By the time we reach The Perseverance, I am feeling uberconfident and ready to go. I am going to make this speed dating night my bitch. We walk in, and I look towards the bar.

      And then I see Josh From HR.

      And Skinny Jeans guy.

      And Peter’s brother, Joe.

      Shit.

       Chapter Eighteen

      ‘Fuckety fuck, fuck, fuck it,’ I say. I’m saying it to no one, because the minute I clocked the three of them, I ran straight for the bathrooms. Now I’m locked in a cubicle, having what I sup pose is a very mild version of a panic attack: I’m looking at my shoes and saying ‘fuck’ a lot.

      What do I do now? I have to leave, right? I cannot brazen my way out of this, no matter how detached and cool I pretend to be. I’ll text Plum and ask her to come in here, perhaps we can fashion a burkha of some kind out of her scarf, and I can escape without them seeing me—

      ‘Abigail?’ says a voice. It’s Plum. ‘Why did you just do a pirouet te and leap for the ladies?’

      I open the toilet door and walk out just as Charlotte bursts into the bathroom.

      ‘What’s going on?’ she says. ‘You left me with Henry!’ she stops short. ‘Not that I mind . . .’

      ‘I have to leave,’ I say, fighting the urge to laugh hysterically. ‘The dweeb is here and the guy that I, you know, was a drunken slutty nightmare with, and Peter’s brother, Joe, who hates me and called me a selfish bitch. What are the odds? I can’t possibly stay and sit face-to-face with them for three minutes each!’

      ‘You can’t leave!’ they say in unison.

      ‘I need you here,’ says Plum. ‘And if you leave, you’ll fuck up the guys-to-girls ratio.’

      ‘I only came because of you!’ says Charlotte nervously.

      Fuck. It’s true, I really can’t leave Charlotte since I invited her. Plum was practically hysterical on the street just now, I mean, she seems stable since Dan rang but God knows what might happen if something went wrong. And it really would be difficult to hold a speed dating night with too many guys.

      ‘Oh God, I’m having a hot flush from nerves, this may have brought on The Change,’ I say, leaning over the sink and running my wrists under the cold water.

      ‘I find it unlikely that you’re going through menopause at 27,’ retorts Plum.

      ‘When were you a drunken slutty nightmare, by the way?’ says Charlotte. Ah yes, I pretended I was sick. Oh well, we’re friends now. I give her a quick rundown on the Skinny Jeans date, and she laughs so hard I think she might be ill.

      Then we’re all silent for a second. ‘There’s what, seven million people in London? What are the odds?’

      ‘I thought it was eight million,’ says Charlotte.

      ‘Whatever,’ I say. ‘I need some thinking time. What time is it starting? We’re just butterflying now, right?’

      ‘We’re supposed to go to the private room upstairs by 9 pm,’ says Plum, glancing at her phone. ‘You have half an hour.’

      ‘I’ll tell Henry what’s going on,’ says Charlotte, dashing back out. ‘He’ll be worried.’

      ‘I’ll get us some drinks,’ says Plum. ‘Then we can figure out what to do.’

      And I’m alone again. I feel sick, like I’ve been caught doing something I shouldn’t . . . I never responded to any of the texts from Josh From HR or Skinny Jeans. Perhaps this is my comeuppance for being so arrogant. Karma is a bitch. Should I say I lost my phone? Or that I just never got their texts? Perhaps I could pretend to have amnesia. Like Guy Pearce in Memento.

      Fuck it, I’m calling Robert.

      ‘Why are my spidey senses telling me that you need advice?’ he says, instead of hello.

      ‘Total fucking meltdown. Can you talk?’

      ‘I learned to talk when I was a year old, but I was advanced for my age. What’s up?’

      ‘I’m at speed dating, you know, and Skinny Jeans the one night stand guy is here, and Josh From HR, remember that bad date at the Albannach? And Peter’s brother Joe who hates me, and called me a stupid bitch, and I’m going to have to talk to them all for three minutes each, and I can’t leave or the girls will kill me.’

      There’s a pause.

      ‘You’d better not be laughing!’ I say.

      ‘Sorry,’ he says. I can tell by his voice that he’s smiling.

      ‘Why is it echoing?’

      ‘I’m hiding in the, uh, euphemism.’

      ‘Right . . . So, who cares? Three minutes. You can do anything for three minutes.’

      ‘No! I need help!’ I am overreacting, but I can’t help it. ‘Joe was so horrible to me the last time I saw him, and I couldn’t even say anything back, I just clammed up and ran away and cried. And last time I saw Skinny Jeans guy, he was passed out in bed and I was crawling around his room looking for my knickers. I will die of mortification when I have to face him.’

      ‘If you die, text me.’

      ‘I don’t think that the state of deadness – or the speed dating environment, for that matter – is conducive to texting.’

      ‘Drinks!’ says Plum, bursting back in with two very large vodkas.

      ‘Is that Robert? Hi, Robert!’

      ‘Is that Plum?’ he says. ‘Christ, she’s cheerful.’

      ‘I’m putting you on speaker,’ I say, and press loudspeaker. ‘Robert is my scriptwriter.’

      ‘Right then. To to the Josh guy, you say that you lost your phone,’ he says, his voice sounding all tinny over the loudspeaker.

      ‘Roger that,’ I nod. ‘But he might ask me out again.’

      ‘Then say that you’re, God, I don’t know . . . working through a few issues with a recent break-up,’ he says.

      ‘So she’s allegedly working through break-up issues by going to a speed dating night?’ says Plum dubiously.

      There’s a pause. Plum and I stare hopefully at my mobile.

      Robert clears his throat. ‘Let’s move on. Skinny Jeans. Just act like you’re mildly amused to see him again.’

      ‘That’s no help!’ I exclaim. ‘I need a script, Robert. What if he asks me why I left before he woke up? Or why I ignored his texts? I’m too embarrassed to tell him that I was СКАЧАТЬ