“It’s a dessert wine,” he said. “You’re not supposed to drink it like water.”
My foggy brain struggled to remember his name. Waldorf or Walter or—
“Whatever.”
I should have listened to Wanker because downing a third glass of Chateau d’Yuck proved too much for me. I rushed to the ladies’ and hugged the porcelain but nothing came out. I felt terrible, unused to drinking after three months of abstinence. Pregnancy didn’t help either. Shit, I thought about the baby and felt guilty about my binge. No more booze, I told myself sternly, washing my face in one of the sinks.
Caroline walked in, her lips going to thin red slashes when she saw me. Teeth bared with the promise of blood. She was getting ready to give me a slice of bitch but I wasn’t going to stick around to hear it. It was time to find Father Martin and play the repentant sinner. Caroline grabbed my arm to stop me from leaving.
“I had a lovely chat with Father Martin before he left,” she said, and I wrenched my arm away. “Despite your licentious behaviour he wanted to help clean up your life while you dirtied ours with your bastard. Can you imagine? I convinced him otherwise and he’s just advised Mum and Dad to kick you out. ‘Tough love,’ I think he called it.”
I must not have been very good at hiding my horror because Caroline beamed, delighted. She checked her hair and mascara as if she hadn’t just destroyed my only hope of coping with pregnancy and addiction.
“James wants me,” I spluttered.
Her eyes went wide and she burst into laughter. Her elegant tinkles of mirth made me crazy to slap her mouth shut, but I clutched my roiling stomach instead. She patted her heart a few times to get her breath back and looked at me sideways, still grinning.
“James pities you. He thinks you’re a useless addict who needs guidance. An ignorant, slutty little drunk.”
“No, he doesn’t!” My sluggish tongue tripped over the words. “I kissed him and he wants me.”
She smirked into the mirror, pressing her lips together to even out her lipstick. “You can take my clothes and you can even steal a kiss from James—pathetic, by the way. And you can tell yourself all the lies you want, but you’ll never be me. You’ll always be a cheap reject, used by so many scroungers you can’t remember their faces. Untouched by a man of James’s quality and position.”
I tried to steady myself against a wave of nausea. “Shut up.”
Caroline adjusted her veil, a gleaming swan I ached to tear apart until all her pretty feathers were soaked in red. But I didn’t lunge at her; I lunged at the sink and vomited to the sound of her fading laughter.#p#分页标题#e#
Once I’d righted myself I swiped a bottle of red from table 14 and wandered up the spiral staircase to the DJ’s booth. It had enough room for a chair, the music deck and standing space at the minstrels’ gallery overlooking the guests. Perfect for trying to drown my desperation unnoticed.
The speeches droned on for almost an hour of pure torture. I drank the bottle thirstily and then leaned against the elegant balcony railings to survey the diners. Watching the smiling guests I felt as forgotten as the tiny lights above my head and about as connected to the glamorous world below me as they were. Invisible. I was filled with hatred but I didn’t know who I hated more: my parents, Caroline or myself.
My father stood up for a final toast. The more he talked, the angrier I got. How could he be such a hypocrite about my pregnancy? And why did he treat me so differently than Caroline? He embraced her and wiped the little tears from her face before he sat down. James shook his hand and the bride and groom kissed to loud applause. My mother smiled proudly.
Before I knew it I’d grabbed the microphone from the DJ’s deck and was tapping it, clearing my throat and telling people to shut the hell up and listen. It did the trick, but I didn’t thank them. I concentrated on Caroline. Her mouth looked as though invisible pins were holding it closed, pinching her as she struggled to keep a social face.
“I’m Caroline’s sister, Paisley Benton, the little secret nobody talks about because of AA—y’know Abuse and Addiction.” I waved the wine bottle in the air. “Booze. Uppers. Whatever works to forget the family God gave me.”
I put the bottle to my lips, swore because it was empty and dropped it at my feet.
“Sober, stoned or drunk, John and María Benton are the shittiest parents on earth. They didn’t even notice I was gone when social services sent me to the juvenile drug centre, but in case you’re all wondering, rehab was a bitch.” I cocked my head at Caroline. “Just like the happy bride.”