Page 1 of The Day After Christmas
CHAPTER 1
FOUR MONTHS LATER
They were hands down the worst two people Felicity had ever met.
As she watched Adam and Bex at the bar, giggling together, Bex with a hand on Adam’s arm, head thrown back in exaggerated laughter, she felt it deep in her gut. Sadness mixed with a weird kind of hatred that one could only feel watching their best friend and their ex-boyfriend in love.
‘To the happy couple,’ shouted someone from the other side of the room. As the crowd erupted for the eighth or ninth time into boozy cheers and half-hearted refrains of “Congratulations” by Cliff Richard of all people (that from the mums at the back), Felicity watched Bex turn slowly to face the room, one hand raised just a little self-consciously, her face aglow, her glossy black hair bouncing as she turned. Adam waved his hands about feebly, palms out, as if to say that was quite enough of that, but no one took any notice. Despite these protests, a smile lit up his dark features. You could see he was loving it.
If this was the engagement party, thought Felicity, as she watched them, the wedding itself was going to be torture.
‘Urgh, whose idea was this?’ said Sophie, plonking herself down on the pub stool next to Felicity and patting her arm in solidarity.
‘The worst thing,’ said Felicity, ‘is I can feel everyone watching me, you know, to see my reaction. They’re desperate for me to cause a scene or something.’
‘You should,’ said Sophie, taking another sip from her glass, which was bubbling delicately. Her (usually very collected) “other” best friend appeared to be slurring her words slightly. Sophie was tall and willowy and usually very “together” but she seemed to be making an exception for today.
‘Are you drunk?’ said Felicity, raising an eyebrow.
‘I might be. Catch me up. I highly recommend it.’
‘From the looks of it, you’ve had too much of a head start.’
‘Oh shush. Whose idea was this party again, anyway?’
‘You’ve said that already.’
‘I know, but I haven’t had a straight answer. Was it yours?’
Felicity shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She had suggested something, now that Sophie came to mention it. Ever since Adam and Bex told her they were getting married she kept finding ways to overcompensate for the churning feeling in her stomach by being ridiculously overly nice and helpful.
‘Well,’ she said now, ‘I am the maid of honour.’ This with a sarcastic smirk. The most ridiculous thing of all.
‘How did that happen again?’ said Sophie, narrowing her eyes.
‘I have no idea.’
Sophie swayed a little on the stool.
‘You should tell them to stick it where the sun doesn’t shine.’
‘Sophie Flatman. That is a terrible thing to say.’
‘S’true though.’
‘True.’
The following Saturday there was even more hell to sit through.
‘Teal or rose?’
‘Hmmmm?’
‘I said, teal or rose? Felicity Brooks, are you even listening to me?’ Bex was already scowling.
‘Sorry. Sorry. I’m with you. No need to full-name me.’
‘Well, honestly, sometimes I wonder if your heart is really in this.’
