The Goodtime Girls

By Sharon J. Richardson

When they're good, they're very, very good and when they're bad, they're so much more fun!
The Goodtime Girls is the story of four women that you'd never put together as a group of friends, yet meet and forge a lasting and valuable friendship. From finding new relationships or meeting second time around to ending old ones, they share their life experiences over the first two years they spend together. And oh boy, do they like to share...
Grace Harper, who's happy to plod along in life and not usually known for her bravery, is about to make a huge leap of faith, her biggest ever, because it feels like the right thing to do. But is there something or someone else behind her decision?
She tells her best friend Sabrina Jenkins, only to hear that she harbours her own desire to shake things up in her life. Sabrina definitely wasn't the spur-of-the-moment kinda girl, so why did she want to move away so quickly from her safe little world? Will she see it through or will she let Grace talk her out of it?
Chloe Parker feels like it's Groundhog Day in her relationship with her husband of fifteen years, Stuart. But will she dare to tell him and her two boys? As Stuart’s behaviour starts to change, she feels like she hasn't heard the whole story and is left wondering what turmoil was ahead of her. Surely he hadn’t been cheating on her?
When Meg Nicholls, who thought she had it all in her relationship with Alex, watched it turn sour and fast, what she didn't know, was that she was about to walk into a living nightmare. Work was the pits too, with a boss who just had it in for her. She felt stuck with no way out. Could things get any worse?
As the girls friendship develops, they teach one another how to dress, shop, flirt and talk about sex, with a little bit of mystery and some culture thrown in between, somewhere along the way.
Enjoying all the highs of their holidays and nights out on the town to the lows of their relationships, they learn to start again and rebuild their lives, as only best friends know how, together.
As they all send a prayer to their guardian angels to show them a brighter side to life than what they’ve all recently been going through, they also pray that they can be naughty as well as nice.
Be careful what you wish for girls...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sharon J. Richardson
• Release date: Aug 18, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301951451

Sharon J. Richardson

Sharon Richardson was born in Manchester in November 1969 and raised in Bury, Greater Manchester. Her passion for writing has existed since an early age. Whether it was writing stories on her own or music with her elder brother, she has followed a dream for fulfilment. Throughout her adult life, she has worked in various jobs before deciding to work for herself 12 years ago as a business consultant.The Goodtime Girls is her first published book and she is currently writing her second book.She lives in East Lancashire with her two crazy dogs.

Book preview

The Goodtime Girls

Sharon J. Richardson

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2013 Sharon J. Richardson

http://sharonjrichardson.com

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead or business establishments is entirely coincidental.

This book or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission from the author.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Credits

Cover design: Addison Paul

Cover images: copyright, http://dreamstime.com/svetlanka809_info

Table of Contents

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter 1 – Phone a friend: Part 1

Chapter 2 – Phone a friend: Part 2

Chapter 3 – The angel at the door

Chapter 4 – Saturday night fever

Chapter 5 – Step back in time

Chapter 6 – Lost and found

Chapter 7 – I want to break free

Chapter 8 – Moving on up

Chapter 9 – Playgirls, roll the dice

Chapter 10 – Releasing the demons

Chapter 11 – Down, but never out

Chapter 12 – Law & order

Chapter 13 – Unlucky for some

Chapter 14 – Phone a friend: Part three

Chapter 15 – Message in a bottle

Chapter 16 – Ladies that lunch

Chapter 17 – Saving Grace

Chapter 18 – There must be an angel

Chapter 19 – Sex in Palma Nova

Chapter 20 – Blue moon

Chapter 21 – Booked it, packed it, flew off

Chapter 22 – So many men…

Chapter 23 – Greece is the word

Chapter 24 – Where’s the party?

Chapter 25 – Keeping it real

Chapter 26 – Water, water everywhere…

Chapter 27 – Finish what you started

Chapter 28 – Eins, zwei, drei

Chapter 29 – All wrapped up

Epilogue – Let’s go around again

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Dedication

For Mam, who taught me to always believe in myself and for the never-ending love and support you give - it is cherished every single day.

Prologue – I will survive…

All is quiet on New Year’s Day, except for the boom, boom, boom still going on in my head following last night’s celebrations. I could have sworn the party finished hours ago, albeit only a few but my deluded and non-stop throbbing head wanted to remain with the hard-core elite of party people.

Now if only the rest of my body could believe that, I’d solve life’s mystery of how to be eighteen again, and make a fortune by putting it in a bottle and selling it the world over. I also need the room to stop spinning around. I’d like to bet Kylie Minogue has never been inspired to sing that song under the same circumstances either. The only solace I took from the excruciating pain I felt as I lifted my head three inches from the pillow, like an Olympic weightlifter going for the new world record, was that it was a great night, another successful chapter in the history of The Goodtime Girls.

The fab four that was Sabrina, Chloe, Grace and me, Meg, had made a unanimous decision to see this particular year out with a big bang, huge! We decided to honour our first full year of being single again. In addition to the usual plan of drink, be merry and drink some more, we agreed to make this night a special night, our night and one to remember.

****

The preparation for the big night out of course took longer than the night out itself. With this being my first year as a novice to the group, it was educational to say the least. According to Sabrina, ‘It’s great fun and all part of the build up to the big night. Meg, you’re gonna love it! But if you’re gonna do it then you have to do it properly.’

Little naïve me didn’t know what Sabrina’s definition of what ‘properly’ was as I eagerly agreed to participate in Mission Get Ready to Party.

Filled with the enthusiasm of a little child about to ride their first bike (complete with stabilisers), I bought into all the hype that started with a full day’s shopping to make the purchase of ‘the outfit.’ And then, because you’ve walked a marathon, you’ll need to get your shoes re-heeled as you’ve worn them out. According to Grace though, it has its benefits. ‘At least it includes lunch and a bottle of wine in a nice Italian restaurant.’ Couldn’t argue with that part, which was much needed by that time and at least we all got what we wanted, eventually.

The next trip to town was for the sole purpose of purchasing the shoes that have to match the chosen outfit. For future reference, I made myself a mental note to strongly encourage my friends to buy their matching shoes at the same time as the outfit. My selfish reason being that my feet began to tell the rest of my body that they had just quit on me.

Three hours and a coffee later and, for the record, not a single pair of shoes purchased between us, I was ready to join the two buskers who were singing outside the fifteenth shop we’d visited. At least they didn’t need to walk around town in heels plus, they looked like they were enjoying themselves, which I certainly wasn’t. I was eventually dragged away by Chloe as I mumbled like a child, ‘Aww. They were going to ask me to play harmonica any minute. You spoil sport.’

We finally found ‘the shoes’ in a shop we hadn’t been in before, though I’m claiming memory relapse as they all started to look the same to me by now. Thankfully and a few prayers later, they managed to accommodate us. Well, not quite all of us as Sabrina dropped a bombshell, ‘Don’t you worry Grace; we’ll find some boots that’ll match your fab outfit. We’ll stay here all day if we have to.’

The look on my face must have said, ‘You’ll definitely find me playing harmonica with the buskers then,’ as Sabrina was comforting Grace with her kind words after being told by the shop assistant that after finding the shoes for her, they didn’t have her size.

‘Can you try your other stores and see if they have them?’ I was clutching at straws by asking the assistant. More importantly, I got to sit down for a few more minutes as she went to check. I decided that Mission Get Ready to Party was becoming about as much fun as having a trip to the dentist for root canal work.

As the assistant walked back towards us all slumped on the chairs we could tell it was bad news, ‘I’m sorry but all of our stores are out of a size four. We should have some in next week though.’

Before Grace could open her mouth we all shot up like we’d been ejected from our seats, grabbed our bags, Grace included and ushered her out before she took her anger out on the lovely shop assistant, ‘I’ll never find any bloody boots. All of these shops are crap and the staff, well; they are all just bloody useless. I’ll just have to wear my old ones.’

Sabrina jumped in quickly in an attempt to lighten the mood, ‘Oh Grace, I’m sure you’ll find some. I’ll go to Bury with you after work tomorrow night if you like.’

Sabrina was my saviour for saying such beautiful words to Grace for two reasons. One, Cinderella, who was looking for her magic slippers stopped sulking and two, it meant we could all go home and I could try to remember what my feet felt like.

‘Yeah, we’ll all go tomorrow and help you. Won’t we Meg, Chloe?’

‘I’d love to but I have the boys being dropped off in the morning,’ Chloe was ready for that one.

‘I’m erm, erm. I can’t get any words out quick enough to say no, cos I can’t feel my feet. I’m tired and I wanna go home. Okay, damn it. Yes I’d love to go, as long as we can go home now?’ My obvious fake smile made them all laugh as we finally called it a day.

As we headed home and for an alleged day off work, I was just thinking that all this was far too much stress and pressure to handle. It left me seriously considering what Sabrina’s definition of great fun was. Still, looking on the bright side, we had shopped, we had walked and we had purchased. We were almost ready. So too, thank the Lord was Grace, who found the boots she was looking for after visiting only the second shop, when Sabrina and I took her into our local town, Bury the next day. There was a God.

****

Just when you think you’ve almost recovered from the last episode, there’s the search for the ‘matching bag’. This really was an education for me. That’s another day shopping and don’t even think of stepping outside on the big night without just the right accessories. This involves you having to carry the outfit, the shoes and the matching bag around with you or it all goes completely wrong, according to the girls. It has to be perfect or else you will have to live through a whole new heap of problems like ‘the colours don’t match exactly,’ ‘it’s totally the wrong style’ and ‘I can’t clash with what someone else is wearing’ to name a few. Then there’s the hair appointment and getting your nails done. So, don’t forget to book in for your manicure and pedicure before you even get to step in the shower and go on the bloody night out.

And so the record stands at five days to reach the final hurdle and cross the finish line to actually go out. That must surely have placed us high in the ranks of any given endurance test, and without a shadow of a doubt opened my eyes to what is now affectionately known as ‘girl’s world’. Great fun? I guess it was but I’m still not totally convinced that it has to take quite so long. Oh, and be warned, it’s not for wimps. Mind you, I’m now fully trained in the pre big night out shopping arena and carry a level of expertise in the shoes department with a passion for busking.

****

All in all, it was Sabrina who took the prize for ‘she who needs six hours to get ready,’ but the end result was worth it and that wasn’t just our opinion. Sabrina revealing almost all of her cleavage in a low cut black diamante dress from her favourite designer, Karen Millen. There was of course matching diamante black shoes and bag, long blond hair straightened to perfection and nails polished with a racy red finish.

Chloe donned the latest DKNY cheeky little number, a brown and gold dress to impress. Naturally she showing her fabulous long legs with a strappy pair of gold heels and matching DKNY gold clutch bag, her hair was the sleek, straight dark blond and shoulder length look with French polish on her nails.

Grace put on a slinky backless and almost topless Marc Jacobs latest pearlescent green silk top. She matched that with long flared black trousers with a pair of funky black boots with silver stitching I encouraged her to spend her hard earned cash on. There were two reasons for buying the boots, firstly they were fabulous and secondly, I’d met every shoe shop assistant in Manchester and Bury and it was time to buy before there was a murder in town with me in the frame. Her hair was short, straight and blond complete with the square look nails with an emerald green colour finished with a small silver stone placed eloquently on each tip.

I decided on a white Armani number, a trouser suit complete with halter neck waistcoat, gold slip on sandals and a gold Gucci bag that Sabrina insisted was a ‘must have,’ though I’m not convinced my bank statement would support that statement. My hair was blond almost to the shoulder length and curly with clear polished nails to complete the puritan look.

As we stepped out of the taxi, looking ever more the beautiful people than normal with the latest designer gear et al, we glided into the first bar of the night, The Living Room. It was Manchester’s most pretentious bar resembling the latest catwalk models, well at least we felt like them, though perhaps with a few more pounds and more inches to the good.

I hope that one day all the guys will realise and appreciate just how much effort goes into this big night out thing though, in the meantime, girls we put all this effort in just for us because we’re worth it.

As we raised our glasses, the first of too many bottles of champagne, Chloe gave the girls first annual declaration, ‘A toast to us ladies, and to a year of finding ourselves and finding friends, true friends who have laughed with us on our good days and cried with us on our bad days. Friends who have carried us through our ups and our downs.’

‘And that’s just when you’re falling up the stairs when we’re leaving the nightclubs,’ I said jokingly, nudging Grace on the shoulder.

The response from Grace was also usual, no comment except a simple smile followed by a large swig of the contents of her glass. We all chuckled as Chloe said, ‘Good point Meg. So as we look to next year, a vow to finish what we’ve started and carry each other home if we can’t carry ourselves. To always tell each other the truth, even if it hurts and most importantly, keep each other away from the ugly men. Oh and be happy. Here’s to another year. All for one and one for all. Ching ching.’

‘Ching, ching girls, I’ll drink to that,’ retorted Grace as we all raised our glasses together.

‘Don’t forget the holidays. We need to have the holidays again next year,’ Sabrina said as the DJ decided it was time to liven things up with some funky dance tunes.

‘Ab-so–bloody-lutely. How else are we gonna make fun of Chloe?’ I said, now almost shouting above the music.

‘Ha, ha. Not letting me forget that one in a hurry are you?’ laughed Chloe who was referring to our first trip and ‘the little incident’ as she now likes to call it.

‘Until then girls, we have tonight, and all this champagne and I say we go for it big style,’ as Grace toasted again.

‘I’m definitely drinking to that,’ I said as I took the bottle and re-filled my glass.

And so we did, drink and then some and partied hard. Well, it was a special occasion after all. Not that we needed an excuse. We commenced with our pleasantries and socialising and boy, did we do it big style. I poignantly recalled the night before as I saw a blurry 12:17 p.m. on my alarm clock as the ten-ton weight of my head gave way and I crashed back onto the pillow. Gee, what a master plan girls, ‘Another New Year, another new drink,’ were the words that carried us through until the small hours of New Year’s Day. And the world’s great leaders should sit back in awe at the simplicity of it all, genius girls, just genius.

Grand plans and world records aside I didn’t really feel much like a gold medal winner, in fact I would say my sorry state of affairs resembled more of the parent with their shoelaces tied together bringing up the rear in the egg and spoon race at their children’s annual sports day.

Having just about lived through a few of these so far, and believe me, on some of them I’d either thought I’d died or really wished I had, I’m yet to meet the expert who’s managed to pull it off, the avoidance of the hangover from hell. Hey, if I’m being honest, it happens to me most morning’s after these days. So why, oh why, do we do it?

I do admire those who can refrain from the demonic plague that the rest of us are happy to be infused and influenced by. Though we never learn what must surely be Lucifer’s closest relation, next to ironing, is the evil known as alcohol. And don’t you just love the cures that people who are normally amongst your drinking companions for the night. They try and persuade you it’ll all be fine in the morning whilst plying you with some blue concoction that you would normally only be seen filling your car with in winter. To me whoever invented this drink surely missed a trick, as it must have the potential to be a great alternative to fuel. Not sure on the after effects for the car, I can only speak for the effects on myself, and trust me after drinking it, your mouth may open but it’s rarely the words that come out.

Still, we allow insanity to take over, trust someone you’ve known for all of two hours, and then before you know it, it’s not just your life’s stories you’re swapping. Yes, and sometimes you end up wearing the infamous beer goggles, the more you drink, and the more attractive they look. That’s another trick someone’s missed, from Mr Average to Mr Gorgeous in two hours. Now, that has to be one extreme makeover! Sad, desperate, escapism, call it what you want but you see it everywhere you go and sometimes you get caught up in it yourself. All in the name of research of course. That was me last night, I think, but I’m not completely sure, need to check in with the girls. Time to give myself a good talking to. Meg Nicholls worldly wise, enough research girl, get a grip and not of the toilet this time.

Lest we forget the pearls of wisdom, to take a couple of paracetamol before you go to bed, drink plenty of water, hair of the dog the morning after. They all seem to be believed in the midst of the festivities. Oh yes, about as real and true as Father Christmas. Thanks for the tip and I’ll remember next time friend, I got your number. Hmmm, actually last night, I think I did.

After all the cocktails or shots or both, be honest-who remembers to take the cures? The best I can manage is remembering where I live and how to open my front door, and let’s face it, as you get older, the keys and the keyholes just keep getting smaller. You know how it is, no matter how straight you stand, the key just doesn’t seem to fit into the keyhole. Oh and for some bizarre reason and what always makes me laugh, the next day I’ve always managed to undress and hang my clothes up better than when I’m sober. Once I’ve confirmed to myself the following morning that I made it home, confirmation being ‘yes, this is my bed’ and, despite the fact that my bed feels like it’s spinning in the air like Dorothy leaving Kansas is another story, but at least I’m home.

So when I start to look for my clothes, I can never find them to the point where I truly believe that they’ve either been stolen while I’ve been sleeping through what could have been an earthquake measuring 5.6 on the Richter scale. Well it could happen, even in the North West of England. Or, I could have come home naked and in that case I really need to call the girls right now to fill in the missing pieces.

When I finally look in the least likely of places, the wardrobe, there they are, hanging perfectly. My Mum would be proud, though prouder I reckon if I’d have come home naked.

****

So to the girls; my comrades, my saviours, my friends in arms, and on this occasion when it was time to go at 3 a.m., two on the left and one on the right. They were holding me up after three bottles of champagne of which, I am led to believe I drank most of with Grace. That was of course before I started on the shots with my new found friend, Adam, that they had to prise me away from at taxi time - our beacon of light, as we affectionately call it.

Grace was my drinking buddy and always matched me drink for drink and I’m proud to say we would give any man a run for his money in any such competition, if one ever existed. Sabrina and Chloe on the other hand were the typical girlies who normally got smashed on three light beers and one shot and fell asleep on the taxi ride home which Grace and I thoroughly enjoyed laughing at them every minute of the way, especially if they started snoring.

For my retribution, they all found it totally exonerating and completely hilarious at my inability to stand let alone walk as we bounced from wall to wall on the way out. All this was going on whilst I was shouting, ‘Friends for life. That’s what I have, friends for life.’

To me, that was so much better than the measly attempt to dance myself sober half an hour earlier. I’m so glad I didn’t see myself, because if I did, I would be certain that I would have resembled some seventy year old lovely dear trying to move to the latest dance tune on a cruise ship.

I didn’t get away with it entirely though, with all the non-gentle reminders, re-enactments and continuous chuckles I received the next day. I reminded my friends for life that at least I wasn’t the one with the bruises on my arms, as I pointed to Sabrina. As I threw the final cushion, I repeated my declaration and told them I meant every word I said, which then ended in a group hug, even though Sabrina was still laughing at the whole episode, bruises and all.

Enough about drink and the post mortem, that’s not just what New Year’s all about, is it? In our more sober moments, many of us take sometime to wonder with great hope what the year ahead will bring. For me, this year it means finding the answers to my dreams that plague me like some incessant distant relative asking you personal questions that simply won’t leave you alone until they’ve pounded the answer out of you. Questions they ask you like, ‘What job will you be doing this year? Are you married yet? Planning on having children anytime? Time’s running out you know lady.’

Aside of the typical stupidity, my questions for the year ahead were simple. Will I meet someone and fall in love? Will I change my job? Am I going to move house? Will I write a book? Will Chloe finally buy an expensive handbag? What more should a girl wish for?

Well, for the record I already consider myself a very lucky girl and am eternally grateful that I have a wonderful family and a job I am finally enjoying, and pretty damn good at. Last but not least, I had the best friends I could ever have wished for but it hasn’t always been like that. Not for any of us.

And so to the beginning…

Chapter 1 – Phone a friend: Part 1

Grace Harper had finally established herself at the ripe old age of twenty-nine as a regional trainer for the North West in the UK’s largest travel company, Travel-Land. Prior to that, Grace had worked for the same company in their call centre until she finally realised that that life wasn’t for her. After all, there’s only so much time you can spend filing your nails and reading the newspapers in, and she reckoned six years was enough. Had she spent any longer working in the call centre she would have qualified as a top beautician in a highly reputable department store for the time she’d spent helping herself and giving beauty advice to her colleagues. Not that she would have told her managers that, it wouldn’t have been quite as appreciated when technically she really should have been managing a team of eight people who were busy selling holidays. It was appreciated though by the girls in the office and the majority of the men who were gutted to see her go. The girls would miss the beauty tips and the guys for the view of her cleavage. It would be fair to say Grace had breast size in surplus quantity, though never really used them to her advantage, well not as much as she could have done.

Before she had moved to Manchester, Grace and her boyfriend and soon to be husband, Craig had both lived and worked in Sunderland. This is where she had started out her career in travel and got her grounding by working in a call centre in Sunderland’s town centre. There, she learnt her trade, including her sideline career in beauty and very quickly realised that she was good at selling holidays over the phone. She had to admit though that the money she earned was great along, with the added bonus of making a few good friends along the way.

It was actually when Grace moved to Manchester that I first met her as I was working in the same call centre that she had just re-located to work in. Travel-Land Direct was a small office, with just twenty of us in there and I’d worked there long enough to know everyone and let everyone get to know me. It would be fair to say of me at that time in my life, that I wasn’t the easiest of people to get to know. So working alongside Grace, who was the new girl was as much an effort for me as it would have been for her, though I’m glad we both tried.

The only salvation really was that when a new person joined such a small team you kind of have to make the effort, otherwise I’m sure I wouldn’t have known her today. So, we got on well instantly and socialised in the same circle of friends for a while until I left to go to another job, for the second time.

We stayed in touch, though as you do, time passes and you lose touch with people you used to work with. What makes me smile when I think back to those times was that we were not close friends as we are today. I’d say we were more what I’d classify as work colleagues. It wasn’t until many years later when I went back to work for the same company in the same call centre where it had grown into a team of two hundred people, that we became real friends, for a while, before I left again. It’s funny how that can happen, isn’t it?

One of the things that I love about Grace is the way she is so accepting in her ability to go with the flow. Being the laid back person that she is though can sometimes by comparison be extremely frustrating to which she even acknowledges and nicknamed herself, ‘The Sloth.’ Though there is another reason that grants her this title. I guess she kinda had to accept that after being at her apartment one evening and she asked me to pass her the remote control.

‘I can’t reach it Meg. Can you pass it to me please?’ Grace said as she made the weakest attempt to lift her arm up and let it drop down dramatically as she lay down on her couch.

‘Grace, I’m sure you’re tired but the remote is actually closer to you than it is to me. And we’re not talking a long distance here.’

‘I know, but it’s out of my reach,’ as Grace made yet another vain attempt to lift her arm but at least she was laughing now.

I couldn’t help myself as I picked up the remote and passed it to her, ‘You are so bloody lazy Grace. There you go, and careful that you don’t break a nail pressing the buttons. Is there anything else I can get you madam?’

‘Oh, yes please. Can you fill my glass with some more wine?’ I looked at her and knew she was being completely serious.

I got up and grabbed her glass as well as mine, ‘What did you last slave die of?’

Grace chuckled as she said, ‘Exhaustion.’

‘Ha ha. I’ll do it this time but only because you made me laugh Queen Sloth.’

‘Thank you. Til next time,’ Grace said with a giggle.

****

An element of surprise came when an opportunity for a new job arose; on the road travelling a lot and meeting people, having to be self-motivated and writing and delivering training material to staff in the retail shops. Sure she could do that but it meant having a real job and being responsible for something which, assessing everything she currently had is when Grace knew she had to take the plunge. On the flipside she saw that this job meant a company car and nobody watching your every move. With that thought, when Grace applied and was offered the job, she grabbed it with both hands and said yes please and thank you very much. Now it was time to really make a name for herself, and she couldn’t feel prouder.

Whenever I asked Grace if she knew what she wanted from life, she would always tell me that, ‘I knew that I was biding my time until I found true happiness about doing something that felt right.’ A typical Sloth response some might say and although she didn’t plan things to happen the way they did, unfortunately for Craig that didn’t just mean her career as he was about to find out only six months later, on Christmas Day.

‘I don’t love you anymore,’ Grace said to her husband as she got up and left the dinner table, as though she’d just asked him to pass the salt.

The only sound to be heard following that was the clanging of her parents, Jean and John’s knives and forks falling onto the dinner plates. They rested on the traditional over-facing turkey dinner complete with the demon brussel sprouts, evil things on a plate. The couple sat there staring at each other speechless, resembling a couple of extras on a film set who aren’t paid to talk though were desperately hoping for their big break. Mind you, I don’t think either of them wanted to make the first move right at this moment in time but it was John who carried on eating, as Craig left the table without a word or a show of emotion as he followed Grace out of the room.

It was John who broke the silence, ‘Jean love, can you pass me the pepper? I need some on these carrots.’

Jean went into automatic pilot by passing the pepper as her head was turned watching Grace as she ran upstairs with Craig not far behind. Then she turned back to face John with such a stern glare that it could have burst his plate into flames should he dare carry on eating. She stood up to leave the table and made her way to the bottom of the stairs.

Craig followed Grace into the bedroom only to find her packing an overnight bag that so far only contained her toothbrush, two pairs of knickers and a vest top. She was scouring the room to see what else was in reach so that she could get out of the house as quickly as possible to avoid anymore confrontation until Craig intervened, looking at her knowingly, ‘Where will you stay?’

‘My brother’s place,’ Grace said quietly as she turned away, trying to avoid the confrontation that was inevitable.

‘Can I ask why?’ Craig said as his voice was rising, the anger inside was reaching its pinnacle.

Grace spoke as she sighed, ‘You know why.’

‘Then tell me why now? Why Christmas Day? Why when your parents are here for God’s sake Grace. Couldn’t it wait?’ Craig was shouting now and didn’t care who heard.

John carried on eating his dinner and Jean could only stare at him and shake her head whilst listening to the conversation, still stood at the bottom of the stairs.

Grace paused before she decided to say what she had wanted to say for a long time. ‘No Craig, it couldn’t wait, and that’s the whole problem. Everything has been about you. When you want to do it and why you want to do it. Never for me. Never once in the last five years of our marriage have you ever done anything because I want to do something. I’ve been trying to tell you and you don’t listen. We can’t go on like this. I can’t pretend anymore. I can’t put on this show, least of all to my parents that we’re this happy ever after couple and childhood sweethearts and that everything’s all right. You may be able to carry on with this façade but I can’t. Not anymore.’

Craig’s head dipped as he pleaded with his wife, ‘But it’s Christmas.’

‘I know it’s Christmas and I also know we’re in so much debt that if I worked for the rest of my life Craig, I’d still owe someone somewhere for something you wanted and knew we could never afford. I can’t go on living my life like this and I won’t. It has to end. So no, it can’t wait. I’m leaving and I won’t be coming back.’

‘Can’t we just talk about it?’

Grace spoke as she was feeling her temper rise, ‘Now, you want to talk about it? Now?’

Craig whispered and dipped his head to the floor, ‘Yes.’

Grace’s voice on the other hand was loud and clear, ‘There’s no point.’

Craig’s words sounded more like a plea than a statement, ‘But we can’t just throw away thirteen years of a relationship and five years of marriage, just because you don’t want to talk about it.’

‘It’s not on your terms anymore Craig. You didn’t want to listen when I wanted to talk. It’s not like I tried just once or twice. This