The Single Girl’s To-Do List. Lindsey Kelk

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СКАЧАТЬ she had this gorgeous cherry blossom thing up her back and ever since then I’d always wanted one but I never got one in case he didn’t like it.’

      ‘See? This is such a good idea.’ Matthew raised his glass with more success than Emelie before writing ‘tattoo’ on the napkin. ‘Congratulations, you’re getting a tattoo.

      ‘Six,’ he shouted. We were so embarrassingly drunk for the middle of the afternoon. Sod it: I’d had a very bad day. ‘Buy yourself something obscenely expensive and selfish.’

      ‘Like a Vespa scooter you drive once?’ I asked as innocently as possible. My hair felt heavy. I needed to stop drinking.

      ‘Exactly like a Vespa scooter you drive once. I don’t feel guilty. Think about all the money you’re saving in birthday and Christmas presents. And trips to see his shitty family. Wedding presents for his shitty friends. You’re completely entitled to buy something that benefits no one but you in the aftermath of a break-up.’

      ‘Can I buy myself something too?’ Em asked.

      ‘No,’ Matthew replied. ‘You’re already utterly selfish.’

      ‘Moving on,’ I said quickly. ‘What else?’

      ‘I still think you need to write the letter.’ Em was too drunk to care about Matthew’s insults at this point. Thank god. ‘I know we took it off the last draft but I think it’s a good idea. It’s closure.’

      ‘Fine,’ I waved my hands in defeat. ‘I’ll write the bloody letter.’ I really didn’t want to do this one. Why spend a perfectly good evening stirring up exactly what the rest of the list was trying to suppress? I was supposed to be getting over Simon, not sobbing into a piece of Basildon Bond over how he didn’t love me any more. But if it was on the list, it was happening. ‘But I get to pick the next one. I want to travel.’

      ‘You can have that.’ Em stood up suddenly and not at all steadily. ‘I need a wee.’

      ‘That’s nice,’ Matthew took back the pen as she climbed out from her spot at the back of the table with all the grace of a drunken giraffe and wandered off across to the bar. ‘You can have travel but you have to go somewhere you’ve never been before. Where do you want to go?’

      ‘Can we have this as one of the slightly vague ones?’ Names upon names of places tumbled through my mind. There were so many places. ‘I only have two weeks after all. And I’m guessing Milton Keynes won’t count.’

      ‘You’ve got to use your passport,’ he replied. ‘That’s the only stipulation. Got to get the stamp in your passport.’

      Throwing myself out of a plane to my inevitable squishy death was one thing but travelling somewhere that required a passport inside two weeks? That was ridiculous. And sort of exciting …’ How am I supposed to manage that?’ I challenged, hoping he had a viable suggestion that didn’t involve us waking up drunk on a ferry to Norway.

      ‘I don’t know, can’t you get a job abroad or something?’ he shrugged. ‘Travelling isn’t hard.’

      The truth was, I’d been passing up international jobs for so long that my long-suffering and foul-mouthed agent, Veronica, had stopped putting me forward for them. It wasn’t as if there was a lack of work or lack of demand for my talents (no point being modest, I was drunk), but I hated to be away from home when Simon was alone. Which seemed really quite stupid now. Maybe I could put in a call. Couldn’t hurt.

      ‘I thought of one while I was in the lav,’ Em yelled with delight, and threw herself across Matthew to get to her seat. ‘You need to buy a vibrator.’

      Despite how red my cheeks already were from All The Booze, I felt myself colour up from head to toe. How did she know I didn’t have one already?

      ‘How do you know she doesn’t have one already?’ Matthew asked. Part of me was delighted that he’d read my mind, but part of me was just sort of shocked he hadn’t passed out with shame. He must be more drunk than I could tell.

      ‘Trust me,’ Em shook her head. ‘She doesn’t. You don’t, right?’

      ‘It’s not going on the list,’ I said. ‘It’s not. Going. On. The list.’

      ‘Then you pick one,’ she slumped back in her chair. ‘I’m out of ideas. Or drunk. Or drunk and out of ideas.’

      I knew she was still sulking about not getting rebound shag on there, but there was no way I was writing that down. I wanted to show willing but I didn’t want to have to drop my knickers for some random. In fact, I was fairly certain that there was going to be no knicker-dropping for some time. God, this was getting depressing. Maybe I should reassess my need for a vibrator.

      ‘How about contact my first crush?’ I suggested. ‘That might be a fun one. There was this boy I was totally in love with when I was fifteen and then he moved away. That would be a learning experience, wouldn’t it?’

      Em was still pouting but Matthew looked interested. ‘I like it,’ he declared after a couple of sips of wine. ‘Sort of like coming full circle. Show that there was life before knob-face and that there will be life after.’

      ‘I think it’s lame,’ Emelie said, but it was too late. It was on the list.

      ‘So,’ Matthew was counting on his fingers. ‘We have makeover, exercise, bungee jump – or similar, tattoo, date for the wedding, buy something obscene that isn’t a vibrator, write a letter to knob-face—’

      ‘Do we have to keep calling him that?’

      ‘Yes,’ they said simultaneously.

      ‘Buy something, travel somewhere you’ve never been before, hunt down your first crush—’

      ‘And give him one.’

      I spat a mouthful of wine across the table.

      ‘Emelie, you’re not helping.’ Matthew looked appalled. ‘And that’s nine.’

      ‘It has to be ten,’ I said. ‘Can’t have nine.’

      ‘You are a mental OCD cow,’ he replied. ‘Fine. One more.’

      We sat staring at each other around the table while my mind ticked over. Learn to play the guitar. Appear on a reality show. Swim with dolphins. Run the marathon. Date someone from each of the armed forces. Shag a boy in a band. Get a pet. Volunteer for a charity. Wow, I really was getting desperate. Before either Matthew or I could venture a suggestion, Emelie broke the silence.

      ‘Break the law,’ her eyes glittered. ‘You have to break the law.’

      ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ I didn’t even look up from my lovely, lovely wine. ‘I’m not going to break the bloody law.’

      ‘Actually …’ Matthew said quietly.

      ‘Oh shut up,’ I gave him the look. ‘I’m not breaking the law. I have never broken the law. I don’t even go over the speed limit. You know this.’

      ‘Which is exactly why you’re going to do it,’ he said, adding it to the bottom of the napkin. ‘Amazing.’

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