Page 28 of One Day and Forever
‘Okay,’ Drea said, ever pragmatic, ‘Let’s get everything ready and organised first, and then you can tell me the whole story in the car. But just tell me the headlines now – did you get your job back?’
‘No.’
‘And did you see Josh?’
‘Yes. Wedding is still off.’
Drea wrapped her arms around her and hugged her tight. ‘I’m so sorry, hon.’
‘It’s okay. I’m fine.’ She wasn’t. Although, she was relieved that she wasn’t going to have to recount the whole sorry saga right now. Before Drea could ask anything else, she gently disentangled herself and changed the subject. ‘Do you need me to help with anything? I feel like it should be chaos here today, although I know you’ve got everything planned to perfection.’
Drea raised one eyebrow. ‘I’ve been planning this day, and tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that, for months…’
That threw Kara back to her earlier thought. Drea had been planning it for months. Even before all the drama, Kara had barely given today a second thought, other than making a mental note not to forget the dress that was hanging in the Vera Wang bag in Drea’s wardrobe. ‘And I’d only be in the way?’ Kara asked, smiling despite the misery that was seeping from her pores.
‘Exactly. I’ve got this. I’ve got everything. You just need to be ready, packed and good to go at four o’clock. That’s all I ask. And then I want to hear everything.’
Kara glanced behind her sister. ‘Did Mum come back here after the hairdressers?’
‘No. She’s meeting us at the airport.’
It was difficult to hide her relief. Much as she loved her mother, Kara couldn’t face the inquisition or the inevitable discussion and judgement her mother would have about every aspect of the situation.
‘Okay, well, I’m allowing myself to have one last bout of indulgent self-pity, so I’m going to go cry in the bath for an hour, and then a new positive, optimistic me will be out and ready for four o’clock.’ Or maybe she’d just go lie in soapy subs and reminisce about the lovely guy she’d met at the airport once upon a time. At least that option wouldn’t make her eyes puffy.
Kara followed Drea down the hall, then turned left towards the bathroom, while her sister turned right, into the bedroom. Usually, she’d pour herself a glass of wine, maybe grab a slab of Dairy Milk to go with it, but right now, she just wanted to be neck deep in coconut-scented soapy bubbles.
‘I meant to ask…’ Drea popped her head back out of the bedroom doorway. ‘You haven’t seen my black Louboutin stilettos, have you? They’re not in their usual slot in my dressing room.’
Shit. Caught. How could she have forgotten to put them back? Hoping for the best, she went for nonchalant innocence. ‘Erm, I might have borrowed them to try on with my Hogmanay dress. I think they’re under your bed.’
Drea gave her a glare that would suggest she’d rather Kara had stolen a vital organ. ‘You’d better not have worn them.’
Nonchalant innocence again. ‘Of course not. I’d have broken my ankle in those shoes.’ Or some misogynistic tosser’s foot. Same difference.
Drea seemed to have bought that because she switched to a new topic. ‘Oh, and Ollie called earlier. He’s looking for you.’
Kara nodded, pulling her jumper over her head. Every minute spent fully clothed in this hallway was a minute less in the bliss of a hot bath. ‘I just tried to call him on the way here – straight to voicemail. I’ll try him again when I get out the bath.’
It was with a massive exhalation of relief that she twisted her long red hair up into a high bun, secured it with a scrunchie, then lowered herself into the vintage white, gold clawed tub a few moments later. Yessssss. At last. Peace. Relaxation. Soothing of the soul.
‘Hey Alexa,’ she said, powering up the sound system that was fitted in Drea’s sanctuary of a bathroom. She’d miss this. Even if she got a job that paid the same as her last one, she’d be lucky to afford a bog-standard, gadget-free one-bedroom or studio in the city centre. Not that she cared. As long as there was room for her bed, her desk and a couch, she’d make it work. ‘Play “Kara’s Badass Women Playlist”.’
She’d programmed that in when she used to live here and then added to it over the years whenever she hung out with her sister. Beyonce. Gwen Stefani. Madonna. Kelly Clarkson. Alicia Keyes. Stevie Nicks. Tina Turner. Pink. Blondie. Shania. Miley. Dolly. Taylor. Aretha. Ariana. Adele. No matter how the playlist was shuffled, whatever came on would make her feel better.
The gods of the sisterhood were listening, she decided, when the opening bars of ‘Respect’ blared from the speaker above her head. Yes. She might be unemployed, homeless and newly single, but at least Aretha was telling her she was right to have standards.
One after one, the others reinforced the message. Kara’s shoulders had finally relaxed, and she was in a momentary state of chilled-out bliss, when there was a thundering bang on the door, then it swung open so fast she yelped, slipped under the water and almost choked.
She came up spluttering, to see Drea in the doorway holding up her phone, eyes bulging out of her head, face stricken.
‘What? What is it?’ Oh dear lord, the flight must be cancelled. It was the only explanation Kara could think of that would evoke this kind of reaction.
‘Ollie!’ Drea yelped.
‘What about Ollie? He’s on the phone?’
Drea shook her head. ‘No. He’s on a whole big pile of crap from that bint he’s married to.’
