My stomach sank when my sister’s name popped up, the ice cream turning sour in my gut.
Charlotte: How was the interview? I hope you didn’t wear those awful sweatpants you’ve taken to living in. If you expect to get a good job you need to try a little harder.
The factthat my sister had so little faith in my ability to function as a human being stung. I should be used to the jabs and subtle insults after living with it my entire life, but there was something about family that had the ability to wound deeper than any friend or partner ever could.
I groaned.
‘What’s happening?’ Rosie asked.
‘Charlotte.’ That was all I needed to say. Rosie heaved a sigh.
‘Pray tell what does the Barbie equivalent of Gordan Ramsey have to say?’ Putting on a dramatic voice, she continued, ‘How on earth do you handle having a sister as marvellous as me? The weight of perfection gets so awfully taxing some days.’
I giggled at the impression of my sister, which, whilst the wording might be off, the tone was spot on.
‘Not quite, but apparently, I can’t be trusted to dress myself, so she was checking I didn’t embarrass the family.’
Rosie snorted. ‘All hail the perfect model of stability.’
‘In all fairness, she does own her own restaurant-’
‘That sells pretentious food with snobby names.’ Rosie cut in.
‘And has a stable husband-’
‘Who has the personality of a carpet.’
I chuckled softly. ‘Jeremy is a nice enough guy, he’s notthatbad.’ I had no idea where the urge to defend Charlotte came from, but it was there nonetheless. And I didn’t have the time nor the inclination to root around my psyche for the answer.
‘He’s spineless.’
I swiped out of my messages without replying and took the call off speaker, pressing the phone against my ear.
‘I do need a job. My flat isn’t going to self-sustain.’
‘You could always ask your parents for a loan.’
I barked out a humourless laugh. ‘Pfft. I’m already the black sheep, I don’t need to give them further proof of my ineptitude.’
Rosie sighed. ‘Alright, let’s forget about the shitshow for a while. Let’s go out tomorrow night. We missed last month’sWine, Dine and All Things Finenight. We need to get shit-faced and flirt shamelessly with men.’
‘I threw my Spanx away.’ I replied grimly.
‘Who gives a fuck? Let the belly roll, my friend.’ A tender smile crossed my lips.
This, right here, was why I adored Rosie. I grew up being the odd one out of my family. Always too big, too loud,too much.Compared to my stick insect of a sister and mother, who thought carbs were the devil and merely looking at sugar made you gain weight. I didn’t fit in at home, and I especially didn’t fit in at school. I spent my primary school years eating lunch in the art room, where the teacher Mr Grenich turned a blind eye and let me stay there as long as I wanted. Being alone was better than dealing with the loudwhispers of fellow students who would jeer and point whenever I ate anything.
When I met Rosie on the first day of high school, we sat next to each other in assembly. She didn’t give a flying fuck what I looked like. She latched onto me, declared us friends, and that had been that. Rosie was the only person in my life who didn’t try and change me, suggest a new diet thatdoes wonders for the body, or frown when I ate the last slice of pizza. A fundamental lack of judgement and unwavering support carried our friendship through the last fifteen years.
‘Alright,’ I conceded. ‘I’m in.’
4
OLIVER
One Week Earlier
‘This is a new low even for you.’ A disgusted voice came from above me… or maybe behind me. I couldn’t tell.
