Dad and Annabel look back at me horrified.
‘Whoops!’ I laugh. Even my laugh sounds strained. ‘Sorry. I think I ruined it.’
Dad snatches the contract back, his chubby cheeks red with frustration. He wipes it with his sleeve.
‘No, I’d say it's still fine,’ he smiles, handing it back over to Annabel.
I’m suddenly ill with panic. This can't happen, it just can't. My stomach curdles at the thought of Annabel taking away my Dad’s business.
‘I don't think you should do it!’ I shout, a little too loudly. Everyone looks bad at me alarmed. ‘I mean,’ I swallow, trying to calm myself. ‘I’ve got a really bad feeling about this. Almost like a...psychic feeling. It's like....some greater force is telling me it shouldn’t be done today.’
Dad and Annabel look back at me confused. Ollie walks to the other side of the room with his head in his hands.
‘You have a....a psychic feeling?’ Annabel asks in disbelief.
It's funny, but now she’s saying it back to me, I suppose it does sound kind of ridiculous.
‘Yeah,’ I nod, looking down, hoping they won't see me as I swallow hard, trying to compose myself. ‘And....well, I think its bad luck for business to be done on my birthday.’
‘But Poppy,’ Dad tries to reason, ‘this will take five minutes at the very most.’ He smiles warningly at me.
‘Don't worry,’ Annabel smiles to Dad. ‘Luckily I don't believe in superstitions.’ She picks up the pen, flicking to the back page.
‘Has it been done yet?’ Mum asks, walking into the room holding a glass of wine.
‘Almost,’ Annabel smiles, trying to find the right page.
My insides are starting to turn to liquid. I can't breathe. The witch is going to ruin everything.
‘But....but,’ I say, struggling for anything, absolutely anything that could help.
I look at Ollie, desperate for him to come up with something. Annabel’s pen is almost touching the paper as little beads of sweat gather on my forehead. He opens his mouth, but then shuts it again.
‘I’ve got a girl pregnant,’ Ollie blurts out.
Everything happens quickly. Annabel drops her pen on the table, Mum drops her glass of wine on the floor and Dad falls back into the wall. I stare at him, dumbfounded.
Mum holds onto the table, her face as white as a ghost.
‘You’ve....’ she swallows, as if she is holding back the vomit. ‘You’ve got a girl....pregnant?’ she asks in disbelief.
‘Yes,’ he nods, meeting my eye for long enough to let me know this is a rouse. With him I wouldn’t be shocked if it was true. Which is why this is such a brilliant excuse; it's so believable.
Dad steadies himself against the wall, his face red and blotchy.
‘How could you have done this?’ Dad asks him. ‘I thought I always taught you boys to use a condom.’ His voice is low and beaten.
‘Don't say condom,’ Mum cries, tears streaming down her face.
‘Well maybe if we’d said condom a little more often when they were growing up he’d have learnt how to put one on!’ Dad shouts.
‘Maybe now isn’t the best time,’ Annabel says, getting up and backing out of the room.
‘I can't believe this,’ Mum cries, sinking dramatically to the floor. ‘You’ve ruined your life! Got some little slut pregnant.’
‘Whoops,’ Ollie shrugs.
* * *
By the time I’ve made it to the front door, full fatigue has set in. Two hours of arguing really does take it out of you. Luckily Ollie remained vague and refused to tell the family who the girl that he’d got pregnant was.
I put the key in the door and am about to let myself in, when I remember my surprise party. I’ve been thinking about it on the train and I reckon Jazz is double bluffing me. Of course there’s going to be a party. She and Izzy would have planned something for sure. Jazz must have just taken some acting classes. They might still be making arrangements now.
I knock on the door, just to let them know I’m coming in. There’s no answer so I slowly walk into the hallway. I walk in the kitchen sure to find them frantically putting away banners and balloons, but everyone seems to be acting so ordinary. Izzy’s doing squats, Grace is lying on the sofa in her knickers and a crop top watching A Place in the Sun and Ryan’s making tea. Surely they wouldn’t genuinely be ignoring the fact it's my birthday unless they’re getting ready to take me out?
So I perk myself up, have a shower and steal some of Grace’s expensive body wash. I blow dry and straighten my hair and moisturise my skin with some of Jazz’s coconut oil. By 8pm I’m getting a bit concerned that no-one’s tried to get me out of the house. I mean, surely the guests should be starting to arrive by now?
I walk into the sitting room and find the three of them squashed on the sofa watching TV. Grace is still in her knickers and crop top, Izzy’s in her stripy pink pyjamas and Ryan’s in tracksuit bottoms and a tomato ketchup stained t-shirt. These really don't look like the kind of people that are about to host a surprise party for me.
‘Hey Pops, you want some cheese on toast?’ Izzy asks holding out a piece to me.
‘No, I’m fine thanks,’ I say pushing it out of my face. ‘Actually I was wondering if anyone wanted to go out. You know, to celebrate my birthday?’ I ask hopefully.
‘Oh, sorry hun,’ Izzy says, grimacing. ‘I thought you said you didn’t want me to do anything? The truth is I’m pretty knackered from last night and could do with just chilling.’
‘Yeah me too,’ Grace and Ryan chime in.
It seems that they’re more in tune than I thought. Images of them together flash through my mind and I force them out again. I doubt they’d eat lasagne off of each other’s naked bodies anyway.
‘Oh, OK,’ I say, deflated. ‘Maybe I’ll just watch some TV with you then.’ I settle down on the floor and wrap my arms around my legs.
This is some good quality acting these guys are doing. I mean, any minute now they’re going to tell me we have to go out. Any minute now. Yet the clock keeps ticking and they only seem to be getting sleepier and sleepier.
When the clock strikes 9pm it dawns on me that there was no acting today. There really is no party. And I shouldn’t be upset, I mean, I told them not to organise anything. But now I’m desperate to do something. I mean, you only turn twenty-six once, don't you?
‘Izzy, are you sure you don't wanna pop out for a few drinks? We could go somewhere quiet?’ I plead pathetically.
‘Well...oh, OK,’ she smiles sympathetically. ‘Go get ready and I’ll throw on some clothes.’
‘Great.’
I run into my room and throw on one of Jazz’s tight dresses. I don't care if it's a pity outing. I just want to get out of this house. A hum of conversation vibrates quietly through the wall and I press my ear to it to eavesdrop.
‘Yeah, but I feel bad. I mean, no-one’s bothered to celebrate her birthday with her.’
‘But she said she didn’t want anything,’ I hear Ryan protest.
‘But still. I can't be horrible,’ I hear Izzy say before she runs up stairs.
Well this birthday is awful. It's like the universe is setting out to let me know that nobody cares about me. I mean, am I that awful that people just either find me totally hilarious or a giant pain in the arse? I fight back my pride and the tears pricking at my eyes and leave with Izzy, plastering on a fake smile.
‘The local pub OK?’ she asks.
‘Um...yeah, of course.’
I’m a tad over dressed for The Old Swan, but right now I just want to go out for a few drinks and then crawl back into bed where I can cry myself to sleep.
Izzy makes the best of it, chatting pointlessly about fitness, or running, or something like that. But I’m not interested. I can't help but think about Grace and Ryan at home alone together. I mean, what if they’re having sex right now? Going ‘how ridiculous was Poppy earlier’ and throwing their heads back laughing before continuing to lick each other.
‘Poppy, I know I’m awful, but I’m really kind of exhausted. Do you mind if we call it a night?’ Izzy asks apologetically.
I glance at the clock on the wall. 10pm. I’ve stayed out on my birthday until 10pm?
‘Yeah, of course.’
We walk down the couple of streets back to the house as I feel the emotion brewing in my body. Nobody wants to spend my birthday with me. Not my best friend, barely my family and now not even Izzy. What is wrong with me?
I take my shoes off, giving in to the crushing, and walk barefoot in the street for what seems like forever until we reach the shiny red door. I’m going to just run in and sob heavily into my pillow. I’m going to wallow in my own self-pity and never resurface. I honestly can’t wait.
Izzy unlocks the door and we stumble into the dark house. Ryan and Grace must be in bed. Maybe even together in bed. God, the thought of it makes my heart ache. Them lying in bed laughing about me.
‘Night,’ I whimper. I run into my bedroom closing the door firmly behind me.
Sleep. That’ll make it better, it always does. Whenever life gets hard, have a nap. I lie flat on the bed and let the full embarrassment flood over my body. What a loser. I brace myself, clutching my pillow, ready to release my body into full on sobs.