He probably just wanted a one-night stand. And after ruining that, a few weeks later I’ve just marched into the place where he works, like I’mgenuinelyout of my mind, and told him things are over for real with my ex-fiancé, with no lead-up to that conversation whatsoever.
Clearly, I’m not ready to date anyone quite yet. I should continue spending my evenings focusing on myself and all the important things I’ve got going on right now, like watching corgi videos and ordering penis hats.
And I should absolutely forget about what just occurred.
Jamie who?
There. Sorted. No problem. I’ve completely forgotten about him already.
Things still to do for Ruby’s hen do:
Pack penis hats, photo book, paracetamol.
Finish photo book. (Try not to accidentally somehow get glitter up my nose like last night. I sneezed so much on the way to the kitchen, I couldn’t see where I was going and walked into the doorframe.)
Confirm booking with stripper. (Do I need to provide the whipped cream and/or baby oil? Check this.)
I almost forgot to pack the inflatable male doll!
Bloody hell, that would have beendisastrous.
I know this is going to sound weird, but I look surprisingly good in a penis hat.
I just opened the door for my takeaway and the pizza guy looked startled.
I forgot I was wearing the penis hat.
Sent Simone a selfie wearing the penis hat, saying, “Hope you’re ready for Ruby’s hen!”
To which she replied, “That reminds me of a wild night I once had in Amsterdam.”
I’m going to take this hat off now.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
I keep thinking about Jamie.
About exploring Dublin together, and how much we laughed and how the day flew by because we spent it together. Or the weekend in Leeds when he made me feel less alone and encouraged me to steal that traffic cone, like we were two silly teenagers acting out. I had a lot of fun with him. Thinking about him makes me feel excited and shuddery.
I was meant to wipe him from my mind and yet here I am on Ruby’s hen do on a canal boat, surrounded by excitable women wearing penis hats and dancing around to Beyoncé, thinking about himagain.Any time I consider dancing now, I know I’m going to do my laughing trick, something I wouldn’t have been aware of were it not for Jamie.
“Freya has a crush,” Ruby whispers in my ear as she slumps down next to me and giggles, her captain hat toppling from her head into her lap. “Whoops! Need that perched on the barnet, otherwise who will know who is running this ship, you know what I’m saying?”
“I do know what you’re saying,” I laugh, watching her shove it back on again. “Are you having fun?”
“Thebesttime,” she assures me, her eyes wide with sincerity.
Ruby had been very specific about the organizing of her hen do. She wanted it in London and I was repeatedly told that shedidn’t want any kind of strenuous activity. Relaxed with good food and drinks. That was my brief. The morning started with a bottomless brunch—is it even a hen do if a brunch isn’t involved?—leading into a canal boat trip. After this we’ll be heading off back to Cali’s, where we’ll be playing the classic hen do games and greeting a stripper dressed as a fireman, before a three-course meal in a private room of a nice restaurant and on to a VIP booth in a club where they put sparklers in the champagne bottles (a specific request from the bride).
“Why don’t you just call him?” she says suddenly, bopping her shoulders to the music blaring out of the speakers of the canal.
“Who?”
“Jamie.” She rolls her eyes. “You were thinking about him just now.”
“No, I wasn’t!”
“Yes, you were, you had that little smile on your face that you get when you have a secret crush.” She wiggles her finger at me. “Everyone gets that smile when they have a crush and I saw it there on your face just now.”
