Free One Way Ticket by Evie Evans Page B

even have the grace to look appalled.
Another couple arrived and seemed thrilled at the idea of an impromptu sing
song. I felt I was living in my own personal hell.
    Later, I realised how silly I had been.
The evening didn’t become really hell-like until Kostas began singing ‘Sexual
Healing’, circling his septuagenarian hips along with the music. Everything
before had just been the warm up.
    Thankfully, I found a bottle of gin at the
back of a display cabinet. After I’d poured a large amount of it into my glass
of orange squash (they knew how to live it up), I enjoyed the party much more
and, after more gin, even felt strangely compelled to sing myself.
     
    The next thing I remembered was
a loud banging on the door. For a split second, I thought it was the police
come to haul me off to prison, how embarrassing would that be in front of my
aunt’s friends. Then I caught a glimpse of the clock and realised the police
would never be here at that time in the morning.
    “Jennifer. You’re going to be late for
work.” My aunt’s voice sounded in the distance. “Are you awake?”
    I opened my mouth to answer and found I
had swallowed an amount of sandpaper in the night. My head was not happy to
have been woken up and my stomach agreed with it.
    It seemed easier to show her than try to
speak, so I staggered over to the door and threw it open.
    “You look like the creature from the black
lagoon!” my aunt laughed. She was holding a glass of water though, so I forgave
her. “Do you want anything to eat?” she asked as I downed the water in one.
    I shook my head at her and waved the glass
for some more.
    “Don’t go back to bed,” she told me as I was
turning around, grabbing my arm to halt the overwhelming urge to crawl back
among the sheets. “You’re due at work in twenty minutes, just jump in the
shower.”
    Leading me down the corridor, she ushered
me into the bathroom where I had to fight another urge to sit on the toilet for
the rest of the morning.
    Aunt June was still hovering as I emerged
from the bathroom a little later, feeling slightly more human, but not much. “I
don’t know how you let yourself get into this mess,” she nagged. As she had now
produced a cup of coffee, I forgave her that as well.
    “Are you sure you don’t want an egg or
something?” she asked, proving she did have an evil side in there somewhere.
    “No, my stomach isn’t up to it. Must be
the quiche your friend served last night, it was probably off.”
    “Yes, either that or the pint of gin you
drank.”
    Ignoring her, I made it back to my bedroom
to dress. The clothes I’d worn to the office the day before were still lying on
a chair, so I crawled into them, not caring what state they were in. My head
and stomach told me drying my hair was a physical impossibility at the moment, so
I bypassed that by tying it back. The makeup was deposited in my bag until my
eyes had started focussing enough to be able to apply it.
    I opened my door triumphant at my
herculean effort to be ready to face a day of work despite a raging hangover.
    My aunt wouldn’t let me drive, convinced I
was still over the limit. I hadn’t drunk that much last night (had I?), but it
was better for my head just to get in the car than stand and argue with her.
Especially as one of our neighbours, Helena, was in her front garden to witness
it. We both gave her a polite wave as we got in the car.
    “You certainly enjoyed yourself last
night. I’m not sure the rest of us can say the same,” my aunt started after
we’d pulled away and were safely out of Helena’s earshot.
    “What d’you mean? You and Kostas were
having a right knees up.”
    “That was before the drink got the better
of you.” She shot me a glance. “I suppose you don’t remember any of it, do
you?”
    “Not much. What happened?” I wasn’t sure I
really wanted to know but I couldn’t help asking.
    “You insisted on gathering everyone around
to tell them all about some bloke