Free The Single Girl's To-Do List by Kelk Lindsey Page A

learning experience, wouldn’t it?’
    Em was still pouting but Matthew looked interested. ‘I like it,’ he declared after a couple of sips of wine. ‘Sort of like coming full circle. Show that there was life before knob-face and that there will be life after.’
    ‘I think it’s lame,’ Emelie said, but it was too late. It was on the list.
    ‘So,’ Matthew was counting on his fingers. ‘We have makeover, exercise, bungee jump – or similar, tattoo, date for the wedding, buy something obscene that isn’t a vibrator, write a letter to knob-face—’
    ‘Do we have to keep calling him that?’
    ‘Yes,’ they said simultaneously.
    ‘Buy something, travel somewhere you’ve never been before, hunt down your first crush—’
    ‘And give him one.’
    I spat a mouthful of wine across the table.
    ‘Emelie, you’re not helping.’ Matthew looked appalled. ‘And that’s nine.’
    ‘It has to be ten,’ I said. ‘Can’t have nine.’
    ‘You are a mental OCD cow,’ he replied. ‘Fine. One more.’
    We sat staring at each other around the table while my mind ticked over. Learn to play the guitar. Appear on a reality show. Swim with dolphins. Run the marathon. Date someone from each of the armed forces. Shag a boy in a band. Get a pet. Volunteer for a charity. Wow, I really was getting desperate. Before either Matthew or I could venture a suggestion, Emelie broke the silence.
    ‘Break the law,’ her eyes glittered. ‘You have to break the law.’
    ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ I didn’t even look up from my lovely, lovely wine. ‘I’m not going to break the bloody law.’
    ‘Actually …’ Matthew said quietly.
    ‘Oh shut up,’ I gave him the look. ‘I’m not breaking the law. I have never broken the law. I don’t even go over the speed limit. You know this.’
    ‘Which is exactly why you’re going to do it,’ he said, adding it to the bottom of the napkin. ‘Amazing.’
    ‘I can’t believe you’re going along with this.’ I rubbed my eyes in disbelief. And to try and make them focus more clearly. ‘Seriously? Matthew?’
    ‘We’re on the verge of an all-new Rachel Summers,’ he replied, dramatically shaking the list to dry the not-even-slightly-wet ink. ‘Devil-may-care law breaker and international playgirl, Rachel Summers.’
    ‘Don’t forget the tattoos,’ I reminded him. ‘If I’m going to be crossing over to a life of crime, I’m going to need the prison tats.’
    ‘This is going to be so much fun.’ Emelie poked at the last surviving bag of crisps. ‘So. Much. Fun.’
    I took the napkin from Matthew and studied it carefully before slipping it inside my bag. What was I signing up for?
    ‘For me or you?’
    He looked at Em, who, with a little difficulty focusing, looked back.
    ‘Definitely us,’ he said, both of them nodding. ‘Definitely us.’
     
     
    Once Emelie had finished drinking the last drops of wine directly out of the bottle, we agreed that was a sign it was time to leave. Helping each other out of our seats, I tried to stand as steadily as possible, walking in something akin to a straight line out of the pub, blinking into the late afternoon sunshine. I looked up at the sky, not quite understanding why it wasn’t dark. I’d been up for ages. It had been some time since I’d been this drunk in the day, but I had a horrible feeling that this was the beginning of something, rather than a one-off. I also had a horrible feeling that I was going to puke.
    Against all odds, the three of us managed to stagger home in one piece and collapsed on the sofa. Within five minutes, Em and Matthew had passed out. I sat back in the middle of the sofa – Emelie snoring her head off on my shoulder, Matthew curled up against the arm, his feet in my lap – and stared into the mirror in front of me. Nothing had changed. The sofa was still red, my grandmother’s mirror still hung over the fireplace and the patch of damp in the corner of the room still needed taking care of.