‘Oh, I bet it wasn’t. Ladies, who wants to hear all the gossip?’ Tina flashes a look around the room, hoping to drum up some support for her request. Sam, who’s now hovering nearby, and out of sight of Tina, makes big warning eyes at me.
‘Really, it was actually quite boring. You know, the usual thing.’ I grin and push a few more crisps into my mouth. I wish she’d drop it.
‘Oh, something must have happened. Come on, we all want to know.’ Tina’s eyes dart around the room again, provoking a half-hearted mumble of encouragement from the Lingerie girls. My face flushes. I’ve been dreading this moment. Ever since she squeezed out the reluctant invite in the lift, I’ve been intrigued to know the reason behind it, and now I know. She’s obviously decided on the ‘keep your enemies closer’ approach, thinking we’re friends somehow because I’m at her hen do, and I’ll spill the beans about Ciaran’s night away from her. Not that he got up to anything that I know of, but I don’t know what he’s told her, or – more importantly – what he hasn’t.
‘Tina, I’d much sooner hear about the wedding. Have you got a picture of your dress?’ It’s Lauren who rescues me. Tina, taken aback by the normally unassertive Lauren’s request, stares at her for a second. I want to hug her for taking the heat off me.
‘Of course not, it’s a surprise. But I can tell you that it cost almost two thousand pounds. Can you imagine that, Lauren?’ The girls all stare at Lauren, who’s fidgeting uncomfortably. Tina is glaring at her and I can’t help thinking what a pity it is she can’t even enjoy her own hen party.
‘Wow, it must be fantastic, is it a designer dress?’ I ask, eager to ease Lauren’s embarrassment and steer the conversation away from the weekend.
‘Of course,’ she snorts.
Caroline, the salon owner, closes her eyes for a second, and then, drawing in a deep breath, she marches into the middle of the floor and smooths down her black tunic top.
‘OK ladies, if you could finish up now, we need to get started on the treatments,’ she says, brightly, rubbing her hands together in an attempt to chivvy everyone along and bring a halt to Tina’s incessant drilling for information.
Tina grabs the treatment schedule handed to her by one of the therapists, and I let out a little sigh of relief as she scrutinises it, appearing to have forgotten about interrogating me.
‘Only a few more hours to go,’ Sam mouths from behind the multicoloured macaroon mountain, as I glance over, roll my eyes and bite down hard into a stuffed olive.
The therapists are handing out thick white towelling robes for each of us to wear. The Lingerie girls jump up and rush towards the changing rooms. I glance at my schedule and see I’m having a pedicure at four thirty, but Tina and the Lingerie girls are having the works – full body massages, facials, gel nails and vajazzles.
‘Ladies, before you all go and get changed, I’ve bought a little present for each of you.’ The girls hurtle back to their seats. Tina is standing up now and motioning over to a huge cardboard box that’s sitting in the corner underneath the window. Then she skips over to it and flings open the lid.
‘Da-daaa,’ she squeals, like a magician’s assistant, before pulling out the handbags, each one in its own black-and-white striped Anya Hindmarch dust bag. My pulse quickens. I’ve wanted one for ages, but they’re way out of my price bracket, even with my staff discount card. Tina starts taking a bag to each girl.
‘Oh my God. Tina, you’re so generous,’ coos Karen, as she reaches inside the dust bag. Karen leans forward and plants a little kiss on Tina’s smug-looking face.
‘It’s nothing,’ Tina smirks, shaking her ponytail and basking in the misplaced glory Ciaran’s money has bought her. The Lingerie girls are all ripping open the dust bags and Tina is back over by the box now. ‘Oh dear,’ Tina shouts over from the other side of the room, and the commotion halts. ‘It looks like I may have tallied up the numbers incorrectly. Has everybody got a bag?’ she asks, mock concern spread all over her face. I gingerly shake my head, not wanting to look greedy, and then so does Lauren. She doesn’t have one either. Karen and the Lingerie girls start wandering off to get changed, taking their bags with them but not bothering to reply to Tina’s question. For a glimmer of a moment I feel sorry for her, trying to buy friendship from workmates that clearly don’t really like her.
‘Oops, there’s only one left.’ Tina reaches into the bottom of the box and Lauren’s face drops; she’s practically on the verge of tears.
‘It’s fine, Tina, let Lauren have it,’ I say. Lauren darts a hesitant look in my direction. I smile and nod at her, and then catch Sam discreetly making big eyes at me again. I should have guessed. Lauren steps forward and, clutching the package to her chest, she turns around to face me.
‘Thank you, Georgie. Thank you so much.’
Tina’s face is a mixture of anger and dismay.
‘Well actually, Lauren, it’s me you have to thank,’ she says, poking Lauren in the back. Lauren spins around and mumbles an apology, her face turning crimson with embarrassment, and I don’t feel sorry for Tina any more.
‘OK ladies, shall we get going?’ Caroline says, brightly, and starts herding the girls towards the door. Sam winks at me as I walk past the buffet table and I just about manage to force a grimace.
On a small clear Perspex table that’s been placed just outside the entrance, there are crystal glasses brimming with white wine spritzer. Sam has thought of everything. I help myself to one and take a huge gulp of the fruity, fresh liquid, almost downing the whole glass in one.
I make my way into the changing room. The girls are all milling around. Some are already wearing their robes, whilst the others are standing around in their underwear, quaffing as much wine as they can. I dump my bag in a locker and start getting undressed. The girls soon finish up and start filtering back to the waiting area, eager for their treatments. I toss my clothes in the locker too, pull on the robe and count to ten. I’m glad to be alone for a moment.
*
While the others are having their treatments, I persuade Sam to abandon the buffet table so we can catch up before my pedicure. The waiting area is empty when we get there, so we flop down into the candy-striped cushioned steamer chairs. The manicure tables are to our left and directly in front of us are a couple of treatment rooms.
‘Fancy another drink?’ Sam raises her eyebrows at me.
‘Oh go on then, I think I need it.’ Sam pads over to another small table bearing an enormous jug with what looks like Sangria inside. She brings the whole jug back with two tumblers.
‘We might as well get stuck in. My pedicure isn’t until four thirty,’ I tell her.
Sam tips the jug and a couple of pineapple chunks plop into the tumbler, followed by a generous measure of the magenta-coloured concoction.
‘Bottoms up.’ I chink my glass against the side of Sam’s.
‘Mmmm, not bad. Needs a bit of a kick though.’ Sam pulls out a small bottle of tequila from her pocket and we exchange a wicked look. ‘I thought I’d better bring some emergency rations, just in case,’ she explains, waving the bottle at me.
‘Good thinking,’ I say enthusiastically and, before I can protest, she tips a generous measure into my drink. I take a slug. The liquid, now with the added kick from the tequila, warms me as it trickles down into my stomach, and I instantly feel more relaxed.
‘A few more of these, and I think I might actually enjoy today after all,’ I breeze, feeling looser already.
‘That’s a girl. Get it down you.’ She pours me another generous tot. ‘It was nice of you to let Lauren have that bag, it must have been a wrench to pass it up.’
‘No, not really, I spend all day with bags like that,’ I