Maria-José-Inmaculada-Carmen’s face is beaming as she protests that Alejandro is nice to everyone and probably wouldn’t look twice at a girl like her. A former vampire, she must mean.
‘You’re a beautiful, strong, independent woman who doesn’t need a man to complete her,’ I trot out.You just need a regular supply of fresh blood and a nearby empty coffin to lie down in.
‘But if you fancy a snog then Alejandro would definitely be up for it. I can sense these things,’ Ava boasts.
My mind instantly pictures Dan and Ava clinking drinks and flirting at work. All behind my back. Men can be so weak and pathetic. Except Oliver. He seems to be a decent sort.
She glances over to a group of lads on a nearby table who are eyeing her up. Ava waves back, raising her glass up to them.
‘Won’t Dan get jealous of you flirting with other guys?’ A dig that I simply can’t resist.
‘Dan?’ Ava turns to me all confused, ‘Dan, who?’
‘My boyfriend that you stole,’ I remind her, ‘from work?’
Maria-José-Inmaculada-Carmen follows what we are saying, and looks horrified at Ava.
‘Yes, MJ. It’s true,’ I say slurring slightly. ‘Meet my cheating, job-stealing, computer-hacking sister traitor.’ It’s an enormous surprise at how not bothered I feel all of a sudden.
‘Oh, Dan?’ Ava hiccups loudly, ignoring what I just said. ‘Yes, of course. Total dickhead.’ She turns to Maria-José-Inmaculada-Carmen, drink spilling out of the glass as she waves her arm about. ‘He was no good for my sister. I had to sack him. He’s a cheater. Him an’ Pippa.’
Oh my fucking God.
‘What?’ I croak. ‘Seriously? He was cheating with Pippa? Not you?’
‘Me? Urgh. Fuck no. As soon as I found out, I managed him out without a single penny. Same with Pippa.’ Ava stares at me. ‘Didn’t I tell you?’
‘No.’ My mind is all over the place. I suppose I did just assume the worst. And it is weird that Pippa or Dan didn’t reply to any of my texts after we had all left work.
I watch as Ava processes this. ‘Some prick from an international company took charge. Sacking Dan and Pippa was literally the only decision they allowed me to make. I wasn’t in control of any of it. Even the computer hacking to get evidence against Pippa. I had no idea they would use it against you too. Especially not to make you redundant. I’d never do that. Sorry Nelly-belly. I thought I had told you. But then it was a bit of a nightmare time for me.’
I suppose it was, now I come to think about it. And all this time she was saving me from Dickhead Dan. I’m not sure what to say. My whole world has just been turned upside down again. Or maybe the right way up.
‘So, MJ,’ my sister says as though this isn’t a huge, life-changing deal for me. ‘Are there any good clubs we can go to near here?’
‘Benidorm?’ Maria-José-Inmaculada-Carmen says, her eyes sparkling brightly.
Over my dead body. There’s no way that I am going to Benidorm. I need to process this miraculous piece of information.
I need to meditate.
I need to make peace with myself.
I need to heal.
I need to reflect on the somewhat unnecessary psychological damage I have inflicted on myself and those around me.
Chapter 27
Amerethreehourslater, I find myself shoulder deep in a half-soaked, scary-eyebrowed Hen party. Maria-José-Inmaculada-Carmen has suddenly become best friends with them even though she has no idea what any of them are talking about.
‘Where is this place called Saff-landan these chickens are from?’ she is asking. I quickly translate for her, explaining it is more generally referred to as South London, and that these squawky women are hens not chickens, but she keeps flapping her elbows and clucking. She is clearly not listening to me as usual, but theHensare finding her terribly amusing. They are quick to plonk a pink satin sash and some pink, fluffy deely-boppers on her head to take her under their wing and claim her as their own. They are also tremendously full-lipped and heavily made-up, like pantomime dames, which seems to be having a powerful effect on the menfolk around them. It is making it impossible to hear what Ava is shouting above the music and spontaneous bursts of squealing.
‘How could you not tell me, though?’ I ask her again. We have had this same conversation on a bit of a drunken loop, but it is taking a while to sink in.
It could have saved me weeks’ worth of emotional pain and could have avoided an embarrassing amount of unsolicited whinging.
‘I texted you, like, a BILLION times!’ she yells at me. ‘Did you not get any of my messages? What about all of those posts on my grid?’
