7. Georgia

Georgia and Neil were making slow progress. Every time he saw a service station he stopped to get more food. Georgia got out every so often to stretch her long legs and empty the car of wrappers and bottles. She liked to think that she ate a normal amount. In fact, some people thought she ate quite a lot. Either way, Neil put her to shame. It was a mystery to her how he managed to eat that much, but he insisted that it was necessary because of how much he rowed. As they got back into the car at the sixth rest stop, Neil stopped with his legs still out of the side of the car and bent forward.

         “Babe, you okay?” Georgia asked, concerned.

         “Totally fine, I'm just taking a moment,” came the response, slightly strained and worryingly quiet to her ears. Before she had time to express this worry, though, Neil jolted and then bolted from the car into the bushes. Georgia called after him and got out of the car to try and find him but he had disappeared. She tried calling his name again but to no avail. Then, suddenly, he appeared behind her and patted her on the shoulder, making her jump quite a lot.

         “Neil!” she cried, throwing her arms around him, “that was so scary, don’t you ever bloody do that to me again! I thought you’d just run off and left me here! Actually, no, I didn’t think that but I didn’t know what to think, I had no idea what was happening!” she pulled away slightly, “What smells like sick?”

         “I maybe shouldn’t have had that prawn and taramasalata sandwich last time we stopped, I just vommed pink in the bushes.”

         Georgia slowly took her arms away from around Neil’s neck and moved back a step. Then, she took a deep breath and did what her friends referred to as ‘going into G-mode’. This was used to describe Georgia’s talent at organising problematic or otherwise potentially sticky situations by going into overdrive and coming up with – as well as implementing – solutions at speed. First, she sat Neil down in the passenger seat with his legs sticking out again so that he was closer to the bushes. She opened all the doors of the car and took out all the remaining food wrappers (starting with the pink ones) to alleviate any smells that might make Neil sick again. Finally, she went back into the service station and bought water and a change of clothes for Neil (just in case) from the M&S there.

         When she got back to the car, Neil was hunched over his legs, looking pretty sorry for himself. As she walked towards him, a woman stopped her and pointed towards the sorry sight.

         “Is he okay?” she asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

         “Yes, he’s fine,” Georgia told her, “It’s nothing bad, just a bit of food poisoning I think. I've bought him some water and things and I'm going to take him home to rest for a while,”

         “Oh, that’s alright then,” the woman sounded relieved, “I hope he gets better. How lovely you are – he’s lucky to have someone like you. These men just overdo it sometimes don’t they, leaving their wives to clear up behind them. Good thing we love them!” she laughed. Georgia turned from Neil to tell the woman that she wasn’t his wife and that they’d only been together for three months, hardly enough time to fall in love. But the woman had gone.

       Georgia returned to the car, put the clothes in the backseat and checked on Neil. She helped to ease him fully into the car and strapped him in, closing the door when she was done. Then, she went round to the driver’s side and got in herself. She gave Neil water and told him to drink plenty, and then she set off at an easy pace to be sure the car didn’t jolt. Oh my gosh, she suddenly thought to herself, I am being his wife. But for some reason, the prospect didn’t scare her or make her at all uneasy, as it would have before with any other boyfriend she’d had. That fact, though, did unease her slightly.

7. Claire

Claire grimaced for what had to be the hundredth time that minute and the thousandth time since Jill had started speaking. As was her custom, she was insisting on telling Claire and Margaret everything about her night, right down to the details of her conquest. At some point about 4pm, she had swept into the house in Cambridge, gushing about her ‘amazing’ night and ‘fantastic’ day, not even slightly aware of the extent to which she was not welcome there. She had helped herself to tea and biscuits and then had begun badgering Claire and Margaret about the time it was going to take them to get back to Leeds. Georgia sighed.

         “I’ve got to go as well, I have to get a ticket back to Nottingham.”

         “Don’t bother, I’ll drive you,” said Neil, “I don’t have any lectures tomorrow anyway and I’d feel bad making you go alone. Plus this way Clive won’t have to go back to the station to get you once he’s dropped Tricia off.”

         “You’ve thought this through,” Georgia laughed. Now it was Claire’s turn to sigh. She hated having to leave everyone. It had been the same way since she was young, goodbyes made her so sad. Part of it was probably some deep psychological reason but she was pretty sure that most of the reason she had for hating leaving was that she knew she was about to end up in this very situation: trying to concentrate on the road while Jill went on and on about the gory details of her night. After the thousand-and-first grimace, Margaret cut in. Claire could see a change in Margaret; she was becoming a lot more confident and less afraid of Jill.

         “So I’m hungry. Claire, how about you?”

         “Starved.”

         “Guys, you totally interrupted the best part of the whole thing I was just getting to it and you cut me off!” whined Jill. The other two girls ignored her as Claire pointed out a sign for a service station two miles away. As they pulled in, Jill started to make a beeline for the McDonalds, while Margaret and Claire had turned towards Boots in search of sandwiches.

         “What are you guys doing?” demanded Jill on seeing that they weren’t following her, with quite blatant scorn in her voice, “McDonalds is so much cheaper and so much nicer, I always get it!” Claire and Margaret nudged each other and stifled their laughter and any snide comments they wanted to make.

         “It’s actually cheaper and easier to just get a sandwich or something,” Claire pointed out, “but if you want to go there then we’ll just meet you back in the car in half an hour, okay?” Jill was now torn between her overwhelming desire to binge and her other overwhelming desire to never be alone and especially never leave Claire and Margaret alone. She did not like people having bonds that she wasn’t involved in – if people were alone together, they would end up with their own inside jokes and stories that Jill wasn’t a part of and that was so not ideal. But when Jill looked in her purse she saw that she had just enough left over for a burger and chips and her mind was made up. She left Claire and Margaret and said she’d try to come and find them in the seating area in a minute.

         “Don’t worry about it,” Claire reassured her, “We’ll just see you at the car in thirty! Have fun!” she called out before quietly adding, “Enjoy your McHeart Attack” in a voice low enough so that only Margaret would hear.

         “Is it really going to take us half an hour to eat sandwiches?” Margaret asked. Claire was a notoriously slow eater but even that seemed like a push.

         “No way, but it was the longest I thought I could get away with telling Jill. I need to mentally prepare myself for the last hour of the journey.”

         “I would laugh but that’s actually just such a painful concept,” agreed Margaret, “I really hope she’s at least finished with her story about… What’s this one’s name?”

         “Will? Or maybe Bill. Or maybe I'm thinking of Jill and I have literally no idea what his name is.”

       “That seems like the most likely option,” laughed Margaret. Her laughter was cut short by a rumbling overhead, which was soon followed by the heavens opening. The girls squealed and ran inside protecting their hair. They bought their sandwiches and took seats as far away from McDonalds as they could, finding the best ones before the station got overcrowded with people sheltering from the rain.

7. Lucy

Flopping down onto the sofa for what had to be the hundredth time that day, Lucy groaned, having realised during her flop that she needed a drink and that this meant getting back up again for the hundred-and-first time. She looked around, trying to see who she could convince to bring her a drink. Steve was standing by the kettle. Perfect.

         “Steeeve?” she started, elongating his name as much as she thought necessary and using her ‘damsel in distress’ voice (which she had perfected at 16 for use in just this type of situation) to show him that helping her would make him her knight-in-shining-armour forever. Steve, knowing full well what she was about to say, simply looked at her. She batted her eyelashes at him, since she knew that she wouldn’t actually have to say anything for him to know what she wanted and that he was probably still feeling guilty enough to do whatever she asked. He went to say something, probably some joke-sarcastic comment about being Lucy’s slave but Carter, coming in from the hallway at about 100mph once he had heard Lucy say Steve’s name, cut him off.

         “Baby girl, everything okay?” he asked Lucy, with a puppy-dog look in his eyes that was probably supposed to be concern for her wellbeing but in fact just served to irritate her in her tired, post-hangover, Sunday evening state of mind.

         “Fine thanks, I was just going to ask Steve to make me tea since I only just sat down again and he loves me so very, very much,” she explained, turning to Steve for the last part and batting her eyelashes again while reverting to the voice. Steve went to laugh and turn to the kettle but Carter interrupted again.

         “I’ll make you tea, my sweetheart, because I-“

         “Aw thanks, babe,” Lucy interrupted him before he could try to say the ‘L-word’. Steve looked at her half knowingly, half amused as Carter spun round like an eager teacher’s pet to make tea. Don’t, Lucy mouthed at Steve, who was smirking at her reaction. He knew her aversion to that word, and especially to that word coming from Carter. As the kettle boiled, Lucy tried to ignore Carter gazing at her. Steve thumped him on the back perhaps less gently than he ought, partly to stop him gazing and partly to get his attention and ask for a coffee, since he was boiling the kettle anyway. Carter grimaced. He didn’t like Steve. He didn’t like the fact that he and Lucy were so close and he definitely didn’t like the fact that their friends were always making jokes about Lucy and Steve being together. If Carter had it his way, he and Lucy would just be alone, the two of them, forever, with nothing to distract them but their love.

       Carter kept trying to tell Lucy that he loved her. She must not realise, he thought, or she wouldn’t let herself get distracted. Obviously she loves me back but doesn’t know how to express it. He looked up from the mugs only to be dismayed by what he saw. Lucy had stretched out on the sofa but her legs were over Steve, who had stretched out at the other end, facing her. They were laughing together, either at some joke or at the T.V. Carter brought the drinks over, resisting the temptation to ‘accidentally’ spill Steve’s on him and inserted himself next to Lucy, fidgeting until he had his arms around her and she had been forced to remove her legs from Steve’s.

6. Georgia

James and Tricia were sleeping on the sofas, both making strange purring noises. Georgia could see the spare mattresses on the floor, but Michael and Sue were in the kitchen standing with Lucy and Jill hadn’t come back last night, not with them and not by herself. None of them were talking, but there was no way the Browns could have not heard the commotion. Georgia could see that Michael desperately wanted to put his arm around Lucy but couldn’t, partly because his sister was there and partly because he didn’t feel right putting his arm around her when she was wearing Carter’s shirt. Of course, Georgia couldn’t see into his mind, but she knew pretty much how his brain worked and she could see his arm twitching towards Lucy every so often. Sue looked up and smiled a relieved smile when she saw Georgia.

         “Hey,” Georgia said softly, “so how is everyone?”

         “Hungover,” replied Sue. A strange grunt came from Michael, which Sue translated, “Mikey’s lost his voice and he feels like a car has hit him in the face three times.”

         “How do you know that if he can’t talk?”

         “I just do,” Sue shrugged, as did Michael.

         “It’s their weird twin telepathy thing,” piped up Lucy, “Plus anyone would feel like that after the amount of Tequila Michael drank last night.” The girls laughed and Michael shoved Lucy playfully, earning himself a retaliation shove and making Lucy laugh for the first time that morning. There was a short silence after her laugh which was relief tinged with awkward hesitation just in case she started crying again. Even Lucy looked concerned. Georgia took the silence as an opportunity and grabbed Lucy’s hand, pulling her outside and facing little resistance.

         “Thank goodness it’s summer,” said Georgia as the two girls sat on the wall outside the house, “Else we’d both be freezing.” Lucy laughed and looked at herself and then at her friend.

         “Gee, we match!” she giggled, pointing out that both of the girls were wearing pastel-coloured men’s shirts and bare legs with their hair in messy buns. It looked like a uniform and Georgia and Lucy laughed and began to reminisce about the hideous shirts they had been forced to wear to school for so many years.

         “Remember when we always had to be sure our shirts were tucked in so Mrs. Willows wouldn’t take our jumpers?” Georgia giggled.

         “Remember how long your skirt used to be?” Lucy giggled, slightly louder.

         “Remember how short yours was?” Georgia retaliated, laughing even harder.

         “Remember when Jill’s became non-existent and she got sent home?” The two girls were roaring with laughter now, but they calmed down soon enough when their minds wandered to the morning’s events.

         “And Claire was so cute and ditsy.”

         “She still is.”

         “You know she doesn’t mean it,” soothed Georgia, “She tries her best but it’s a lapse in judgement and she doesn’t mean to upset you, neither of them do.”

         “I don’t know why I care so much. It doesn’t directly affect me so I should be fine with it as long as I don’t have to see it.”

         “It’s just because you know what they’re both like. You know they don’t actually want to be together, it’s just a mistake. Claire always regrets it, at least. Steve wouldn’t tell anyone except you.”

         “He doesn’t tell me. He rarely talks to me about her because I don’t let him. She tells me not to and I don’t want to anyway.” She sighed, “I wouldn’t mind it, I’d be fine with it if they didn’t regret it so much and if it didn’t make everything so awkward and make them hate each other. Every time they do this I end up clearing up after their mess when it all… goes pear-shaped.”

         “Impressive that you’re not swearing,” said Georgia.

         “New year’s resolution.”

         “In June?”

         “Just to be different.” The girls laughed quietly again. Georgia put her arm around Lucy, who fidgeted slightly to fit better into the embrace.

         “You need to stop caring about other people and be more concerned with yourself. Hang on, haven’t we had this conversation before?”

         “Only every time I’ve been upset over the past 8 years,” said Lucy, “So it’s rare… or not so rare.”

         The girls sat like that for a good 5 minutes before they both got cramp and decided to move. Georgia sighed to herself. Nothing like a good cuddle on a Sunday morning before I have to leave and go all the way back to Nottingham with Tricia. As she followed Lucy back into the house she looked around at all her friends once more. Joe had come downstairs and was sitting with James, Margaret, Tricia, Michael and Sue, who had shoved all the mattresses together and piled cushions and blankets up on top of them. Georgia smiled.

         “Right, nobody gets dressed until we’ve watched at least 2 shitty films in a row. Where are the others?” 10 minutes later they were still arguing about film choices but they had been joined by Steve and Claire (Carter had gone home) who were sitting at opposite ends of the group. Lucy, in her typical fashion, was pretending nothing had happened and crawling over everyone, trying to bring some order to the chaos and quite happy to be failing miserably.

6. Claire

Steve’s knock was really more of a tentative tap. Silence followed it but he waited. He knew Lucy. This would all blow over. She was a forgiver, she couldn’t hold grudges, couldn’t stay angry, especially not at her best friends. He and Claire had done this before, ‘relapsed’, and Lucy had always forgiven them. Please don’t let this time be any different. The door opened and Steve fumbled, having been about to throw  his arms around Lucy as she opened the door and beg for her forgiveness (which usually worked). This time, though, Carter was standing in the doorway, shirtless and hungover, with a strange mix of concern, confusion and anger on his face. Damn, thought Steve, it IS different.

         “Um, hey Carter,” Steve said cautiously, “can I talk to Luce?”

         “No,” came the stern reply, “she doesn’t want to talk to you. She’s very upset and you’ve made her cry. What did you do?”

         “Carter!” shouted Lucy’s voice from inside her room, “don’t tell him that! And if you needed to know, you’d know.” Carter looked at Steve and shrugged before shutting the door in his face. Steve tapped again and was greeted once more by Carter.

         “I just want to talk to you, Luce,” he yelled past the rower in the doorway, “I want to apologise for being an idiot.” Suddenly, Carter was pushed out of the way and Lucy strode past him, wearing his shirt and not looking at Steve. She hadn’t taken her makeup off last night and now Steve could see there were tear-tracks in the smudges of her mascara beneath her eyes. She walked to the stairs and went down into the kitchen without making eye contact with anyone. Claire, having dressed herself (resisting the instinct to put Steve’s shirt on) in her outfit from last night, watched this unfold from the stairs separating the floor where the boys’ rooms were situated from the middle landing, which was where Lucy’s room was. When Lucy had disappeared down the stairs to the kitchen, Claire moved furtively down to where Steve was alternating between staring at Carter and the empty staircase.

         “She’s seriously pissed, isn’t she?” she asked.

         “No, Claire, she just really wanted a cuppa,” Steve said sarcastically.

         “Alright, sorry,” apologised Claire, feeling snubbed, “I was just wondering how pissed she was. Should we go downstairs?”

         “Definitely not,” came a voice from behind them. Turning around, they saw Georgia standing at the door To Neil’s room, wearing his shirt. She went past Claire and Steve to Carter, “’scuse me, I left all my clothes in here.” Coming back out of Lucy’s room with a pair of jeans on, she carried a bundle of Claire’s clothes. Claire took them from her. Georgia was very calm and it reassured Claire to know that not everyone was furious at her (and Steve).

         “Thanks, Gee. Are you going to go downstairs?”

         “I’ll talk to her. Neil told me what happened,” she looked between Steve and Claire, who both looked down at the floor to avoid her gaze, “Honestly you guys, timing.” Claire knew what she meant. With the stress that organising the party had caused her, coupled with her confrontation with Jill last night, this couldn’t have been the best wake-up call for Lucy. She began to feel really guilty. Steve, though, was feeling even guiltier because he knew another, much bigger stress that Lucy was attempting to deal with at the moment. He and Claire hadn’t made eye contact all morning, they both knew what a big mistake they had made. Carter went back inside Lucy’s room, closing the door behind him and leaving Claire and Steve alone. She smoothed down her curls and fidgeted, he stayed stock-still and cleared his throat.

         “I’m going to have a shower,” Claire announced, trying to make it seem as if it was to no one in particular. She marched off quickly, then slowed down slightly when she realised that she was alone with her thoughts and had no access to shampoo since she didn’t dare use Lucy’s bathroom. She decided her best bet was to ask Joe but then realised that she hadn’t seen Joe all morning. She knocked on his door and went in when she heard his sleepy voice telling her to do so. If he was asleep, he doesn’t know what happened. His room is a whole room over from Steve’s. But one look at his face and she knew he had heard everything. Her heart sank.

         “I didn’t mean for-” she began.

         “Come here,” Joe cut her off before any sort of gushing could occur. She ran and hurled herself onto his bed, curling up in his arms and beginning to silently sob.

         “Why do I always do such stupid things?” she cried, her voice muffled by being buried in Joe’s chest.

         “It’s okay, babe,” Joe soothed her, “It’s all going to be okay. She knows you don’t mean any harm, she loves you.” This only made Claire cry harder.

         “I love her too! I just don’t think before I do things or say stuff!”

         “She knows, babe. We all do. You’ve never been spiteful. Everything’s going to be okay.”

I hope you're right, Claire thought.

6. Lucy

There was a banging coming from Lucy’s door. She groaned and forced herself out of bed and over to the door. Seeing Neil standing there, she raised her eyebrow. Instead of laughing, though, Neil just said, “We have a problem.”

         “What is it?” she said in a tired voice, trying to convey how unwelcome this intrusion was to her and her headache. Apparently failing to convey this with her eyes, she said, “You realise I’m more hung-over than anyone else in this house, right?” a groan came from the bed, “Except maybe lightweight Carter over there,” she added, sniggering slightly then immediately regretting it as her throbbing head punished her.

         “Just come with me, I'll show you,” Neil said. the lump in the bed which Neil now knew was Carter moved and emitted yet another groan.

         “You can stay here, Carter,” Neil told it, “Only Lucy should see this.” Lucy looked at  him, becoming more and more concerned by not only his secrecy but also his stern, forlorn attitude. She followed him obediently down the corridor and up the stairs to Steve’s door. He stopped and turned to her.

         “What is it?” she asked again, this time in a worried tone, “Has something happened to Steve?” Neil shook his head and pointed at the door. Lucy walked to the door and opened it slowly, her mind swimming with all the possible scenarios she was about to see, many of them involving Steve missing limbs. Neil shushed her from outside as she walked in and turned to look at Steve’s bed. Seeing no bloodstained sheets her fear lifted a little and her vision cleared enough to see that there was another body beside him. Get in, Steve. She thought to herself, smirking again. However, when she looked closer, she thought she recognised the curly brown hair spread over the pillow next to him, though the face was hidden by the duvet. Looking around, she began to recognise certain articles of clothing which were strewn all over the floor. And then, I gave that skirt as a birthday present about a month ago. To Claire. As she realised what she was really seeing, she heard Neil rushing up behind her, probably to attempt to stop her from doing what she did next.

         “WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!” she screamed, ignoring the pain that the rush of anger and the cry caused her aching head. Neil’s arms grabbed her, stopping her from running forward and doing whatever she would have done had she reached the criminals in the bed. The two guilty parties shot up and Claire screamed as she realised what was happening and attempted to burrow under the duvet. Steve was paralysed with fear and guilt. Lucy continued to shout at the top of her lungs, “CLAIRE ROBERTS AND STEVEN LEWIS, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!”

         “Lucy, calm down, please!” Neil half-cried, trying to hold her steady and soothe her as much as possible. Eventually she stopped struggling and he relented. Seeing her staying still and hoping that meant she was calm again, Steve nudged Claire to come out from under the covers. She poked her head out but kept the duvet wrapped around her in what Lucy saw as a feeble attempt to preserve what shreds of dignity she had left after being found in Steve’s bed. Again. Steve looked from Lucy to Neil to Claire and back again, speechless. Lucy’s head began to throb again. She sighed and turned on her heel, shoving Neil out of the way as gently as she could in her heightened state of emotion. Stalking out of the room, she heard Neil start to follow her. She spun around.

         “Don’t you dare,” she almost hissed. Neil tried to sound reasonable.

         “Lucy, why can’t they-“

         “I said don’t you dare try to defend them! They were drunk and stupid and I give it thirty seconds before they realise the full extent of what has happened and of what they’ve put me through this morning.” Neil went to try and hug her but she spun back around and stormed back downstairs. She slammed her bedroom door and exhaled angrily. Carter shot up and asked as tentatively as he could, “What’s wrong, sweetie?”

         “It’s like all my friends have clubbed together and just decided that it has been too long since my last breakdown,” she sighed, feeling slightly comforted (but not much) by the warm duvet and Carter’s presence.

         “What are you talking about? They wouldn’t be intentionally hurtful to you,” he reasoned, “Your friends love you.”

         “I know,” said Lucy, “and I love them too. It’s just that everything seems to be going wrong like it used to when we were still in school and they know how badly depressed I used to get. I thought everyone was finished with the drama.” She sighed and buried herself deeper in the covers. Carter put his arms around her and for a moment she thought she could pretend that nothing bad had happened, and that people had learnt their lessons the first time round.

         Then, reality came knocking.