‘Tis the Season to be Single: A feel-good festive romantic comedy for 2018 that will make you laugh-out-loud!. Laura Ziepe
mind. All the times that Bianca hadn’t answered the phone and then made excuses as to why she couldn’t meet up, Rachel had just assumed she’d been really busy, and she supposed she had been –
with her boyfriend!
‘I don’t know what you mean…’
‘Bee, just cut the crap, okay?’ Rachel interjected hotly, rolling her eyes and feeling as if her head was about to explode in rage. ‘How long have you been seeing Mark for? How long have you been seeing my boyfriend?’ She couldn’t believe she was even saying the words. She glared at Bianca, feeling the tension emanating from her.
Bianca fiddled with her hair, at least having the decency to look ashamed. She looked at the floor; she’d clearly rather be anywhere else in the world at that very second.
‘Rachel, I’m so sorry,’ she said finally, tears filling her eyes. ‘I never meant for any of this to happen. We both didn’t.’
‘We? So you and Mark are a we now?’ A loud laugh escaped her lips. ‘Tell me, for how long? How long have you both been lying to me?’ she snapped, feeling more hurt and betrayed than she ever knew was possible.
‘Oh God, I know you’re upset, but the last thing we ever wanted was to hurt you. We’ve both felt so bad, Rachel. Please believe me. It’s been going on for about two months, that’s all. I told him I wanted to stop. I couldn’t carry on until things were sorted between you two,’ she sniffed loudly.
Rachel gazed at Bianca noticing her mascara was smudged, her eyes focusing on the black smear underneath her chocolate brown eyes. She looked around the room at the colourful scatter cushions on the sofa with the sequins which scratched your skin, the full magazine rack with magazines piled messily around it and Bianca’s pink fluffy slippers lying in the middle of the room. Mark wouldn’t care much for her untidiness. He’d hate it in fact. It would grate on him eventually, but perhaps he didn’t even know that side to Bianca just yet. Or maybe it didn’t bother him right now because everything was so new, sexy and exciting. She could just imagine the thrill of their sordid meetings, worrying that Rachel may or may not catch them and find out. How could the two of them have got together behind her back? At what point had Bianca become appealing to Mark? He’d never seemed remotely bothered about her before. They’d always gotten along of course, but just on a normal boyfriend/best friend level. There had been absolutely nothing remarkable about their relationship. In fact, she distinctly remembered Mark calling Bianca ‘quite the chatterbox,’ implying it was a bad thing. So when had the chatterbox become irresistible to him? Nothing between the two of them had ever told Rachel to watch out because, if she wasn’t careful, one day they’d hook up and ditch her. They hadn’t even flirted in front of her before. Rachel felt as though it was all a bad dream; she was frail and shaky and thought she might pass out from the shock at any second. How could they both do that to her?
Bianca began to weep and Rachel had to stop herself from comforting her out of habit. This was certainly not the time to make her so-called best friend feel better.
‘So you’ve really been seeing Mark then?’ she asked, a nasty bitter taste flooding her mouth.
Bianca nodded, her nose beginning to run. ‘I think I’m in love with him,’ she cried. ‘I’m so sorry. It’s all just such a mess. We just got chatting at work one day in the lunch canteen. We were talking about you, but there was just this spark between us. I can’t explain it. I know you’re going to hate me,’ she sobbed, ‘and I deserve it. I really do deserve it.’
Love? It was as though the word was lodged in Rachel’s throat and she couldn’t swallow. So it wasn’t just a fling then? It wasn’t a mistake. Bianca was planning to steal Mark because she couldn’t live without him. Supposedly loved him. Her Mark. What had happened? Had they started a conversation about her and then realized that actually, they would make a better couple? How about we both lose Rachel and get together instead? The world had gone crazy.
‘I don’t know what to say to you,’ Rachel said, filled with a wave of disbelief, her eyes suddenly dry. She was too stunned and hurt to cry at that moment. The shock had dried up her ability to show any emotion. ‘I just need to get out of here. I need to be away from you.’
‘Please just believe that we’re sorry, okay?’ Bianca pleaded. ‘You can’t just leave like this.’
Again, the word ‘we’re’, to show that they’d become a secret couple, while Rachel had just been happily living her ordinary little life in ignorance. ‘Wrong. I can do whatever the hell I like,’ Rachel retorted, her head throbbing like it did when she had a migraine coming on. ‘I don’t owe you anything, Bianca. You want my boyfriend? You’re welcome to him. Don’t ever contact me again.’
Rachel marched to the front door, slamming it behind her. She took a deep breath wondering what on earth she was going to do.
What a very merry Christmas this was going to be.
Grace walked downstairs, instantly feeling irritated at the sight of the damp washing still lying there in the basket. She didn’t usually get irritated; people called her ‘breezy’ and ‘laidback’. Grace liked being perceived as a chilled-out kind of person; she simply didn’t get people who were always rushing around and stressed out. But, the night before, she’d asked Simon to do just one little thing and clearly it was too much to ask. Feeling a little unwell, Grace had gone to bed early and asked him to put the laundry she’d just washed on the radiators to dry before he came to bed. He’d obviously been too engrossed watching football to hear her, as usual. She couldn’t count the number of times he’d agreed to do something, only to not have the faintest idea what she was talking about when she mentioned it again days later. She usually just let it slide. It was just another thing to add to the list of Simon’s annoying ways, and normally she told herself it wasn’t a big deal. Nobody was going to die.
Grace huffed, the damp smell of the washing filling her nostrils as she picked up the basket. It would have to be washed again now, and she wished she’d just done it herself. Her mother had once told her never to rely on anybody apart from herself, and Grace could see why. As she walked through to the kitchen, she held her breath in exasperation spotting Simon’s dirty frying pan, decorated with the remains of crispy fried egg; his plate, cup and cutlery were all just sitting there on the work surface. She didn’t comprehend why he couldn’t just tidy away after himself. Living with Simon was like living with a child, and if Grace was honest, she’d got to the point where she was fed up of being so relaxed about everything, because actually, it wasn’t okay. He’d gone to work that morning, and just expected her to tidy up after him. Didn’t he understand that Grace had work too? She didn’t have time to constantly clear away his mess, but no matter how many times she explained this (in a polite, non-confrontational way), Simon just didn’t change. He couldn’t quite grasp the concept of sharing the housework. If he was so happy to live in a pigsty then so be it, she thought, deciding to leave his mess sitting exactly where it was, instead of tidying it away like she normally did.
Grace exhaled sharply as she noticed the bin was full to the brim and Simon hadn’t bothered to change it that morning, just stuffing his rubbish on top in the hope that she would do it. She wasn’t sure what it was about today, but Simon’s ways were really starting to get on top of her. She knew it was most likely because it was her time of the month, which was worse for her than normal because they’d been trying for a baby for the past year – and failing. But even if Grace did fall pregnant, how could she have a baby when Simon was like this? What help would Simon be? Over the years Simon just seemed to take her for granted. He didn’t appreciate anything she did. She was just Grace, his wife; the woman at home to make his dinners and clean the house, the woman to wash and iron his clothes, and she had just accepted it.
Don’t worry, Grace will do it.
It hadn’t always