Page 2 of Date with Destiny

I snort, not sure how seriously to take her. Myfanwy is super clever and very dry, while I’m pretty dumb and a bit wet. Sometimes her jokes are lost on me.

‘HEY STRIPPER!’ Myfanwy shouts as he attempts another grind. ‘LOOK!’ She points over at the group of Kendalls and his eyes light up. He pants his thanks, flinging himself – and his waxing rash – in their direction.

‘Poor Kendalls,’ I murmur as Myfanwy leads us to a pair of tatty sofas in the corner. Collapsing in a heap, I glance towards the bar where Sonali, Toni and Diane are doing pink tequila shots. At least we know those three.

‘Ugh, I’m so uncomfortable,’ Myfanwy whines, pulling at her too-small skirt, digging into waist flesh. ‘Thiscostume is at least two sizes too small.’ She sighs and I try not to smile.

Myfanwy is a few months into a new relationship with Sonali. She’s completely head over heels, madly in love, and, as tends to happen, love has brought with it many cosy nights in – accompanied by many a takeaway. She’s now a stone or so heavier than she was pre-relationship, a fact Celeste passive–aggressively chose to ignore when handing out the weekend’s costumes.

But – stupid outfit aside – the extra layer of fat really suits Myfanwy. Actually, both the weight and the happiness suit her.

‘I’m soooo sweaty!’ My sister Toni lands beside us with a heavy thud. She’s all legs and the air-hostess skirt is more of a fabric belt on her.

Sonali and Diane are two seconds behind her, sheeny and manic-eyed.

‘Are you two being boring?’ Sonali flops down beside Myfanwy, kissing her cheek tenderly. It’s still a bit strange seeing them be so openly affectionate. I met them both back at university when I was eighteen. We were all purely friends for so long and it wasn’t until a few months ago that they both admitted how they felt and started dating.

Myfanwy grins at her. ‘We’re hiding from strippers and Celeste.’ She pauses. ‘Plus, my legs are killing me after the indoor wall-climbing earlier.’

‘Yeah, who thought that was a good idea right after cocktail making?’ Diane asks dryly, pointedly scanning theroom for the culprit. Celeste is over with the Kendalls, wild-armed, gesticulating as she shouts at the stripper. I laugh, immediately feeling bad because I know how much time and effort all this unnecessary nonsense required to organize.

‘I can’t believe she made us zipwire as well.’ Sonali rolls her eyes as Toni leans forward, examining bruised shins.

‘Maybe we should go zipwiring again for your birthday next week,’ Myfanwy guffaws, her Welsh accent at its strongest when she’s drunk.

I shudder. ‘Please no!’ I beg. ‘Can my birthday present be that I’m allowed to stay at home and go to bed really early with a packet of biscuits?’

‘Nope,’ Sonali grins.

‘I can’t believe it’s your thirty-second birthday,’ Toni says in an awed voice, staring at me with huge eyes.

My little sister is a hundred years younger than me – by which I mean nine years. She’s a whole different generation, and I know in her eyes I am ancient. Wizened with age. Close to death. That I must’ve done and seen and learned everything by now.

I don’t know how to explain to her that the older you get, the younger and more inexperienced you feel.

Myfanwy regards me with a level of seriousness before saying quietly, ‘Thirty-two. At last.’

She’s talking about the predictions again.

Diane gasps, ‘Oh my god,of course!’

‘Thirty-two,’ Sonali repeats reverentially as she and Diane regard each other. ‘It feels like we’ve all been waiting for youto reach this age for, like,ever.’ She pulls out her tiny tub of Vaseline.

I swallow hard. ‘Nothing will happen,’ I comment, uncertainty clear in my voice.

Toni looks between all of us now, eyes even wider with confusion. ‘What are you guys talking about? Is this another in-joke? I feel left out.’

Diane strokes her arm reassuringly. ‘We’re talking about Ginny’s six predictions,’ she reminds her gently as Myfanwy takes over, bouncing in her seat.

‘You know this story! How Ginny went to a funfair when she was sixteen and this fortune teller accosted her by the candy floss? She told Gin that in sixteen years she would have three huge losses and three huge gains.’ She turns to me accusatorily. ‘She’s turning thirty-two at long last, and Ginny claims she hasn’t been obsessing about it.’

‘Definitely not as much as you.’ I try to sound amused instead of freaked. ‘But like I said – like I’ve said athousandtimes – it was probably all rubbish anyway.’

‘I’d completely forgotten!’ Toni breathes out. ‘The fortune teller and her six predictions!’

‘It’s silly.’ I force an eye roll, trying to swallow.

I don’t want to talk about this, Ireallydon’t. Because even though I don’t really believe in any of that stuff – psychics, mediums, ghosts, astrology – these six predictions have…hauntedme. For half my life they’ve hung over everything I’ve done; every decision I’ve made.

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