Read Online It Had to Be You by Ellie Adams - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Ellie Adams
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Lover of popular culture. Dangerous on a Boris Bike. Would like to meet a funny, easy-going chap, who knows his ‘their’ from his ‘they’re’. If you are proficient in large moth removal, this is also valued highly.
‘Perfect,’ Poppet said. ‘Funny, but not too funny, remember men like being the funny ones. And you got the helpless damsel in distress bit in at the end.’
They chose a picture of Lizzy in the park from the previous summer, where Poppet said Lizzy’s eyes looked nice, and in which Nic said she was showing off ‘just the right amount of tit’, and put it up. Afterwards Lizzy’s brain hurt as if she’d just sat a major exam.
‘Uh-oh, look,’ Nic said. ‘The Eyes are out.’
Across the table Poppet had taken on that euphoric drunken glaze that only meant one thing. ‘Let’s do shots!’
‘It’s a school night!’ Lizzy protested.
‘It’s Friday tomorrow. Go on, live a little!’
Nic shrugged, as though it was a necessary evil she had to go through. ‘OK,’ Lizzy sighed. ‘But I’m only doing one. And no flaming sambucas!’ She looked at her watch. ‘I need to be home by midnight. I’ve got a busy day tomorrow.’
Chapter 10
Lizzy was woken up by the
beep beep
of a lorry reversing outside. Her whole body hurt, and it took a few moments to realize that instead of being tucked up in her pajamas in a warm bed, she was face-down on the sofa in her living room, still in her clothes.
She turned over and was hit by a wave of nausea. What had
happened
last night? She had very few recollections after leaving the cocktail club, except for ordering Jägerbombs in another bar, and Nic getting into an argument with a blue-haired transvestite about Whitney Houston …
Her mobile went off. It was probably Antonia wondering where the hell she was. Lizzy located her phone under the armchair. There was a sticky red smear on the screen that looked suspiciously like ketchup.
‘Hello?’ she croaked.
‘Oh my God!’ Poppet wailed. ‘I’ve lost my bra!’
Lizzy sat up and winced. ‘What?’
‘I woke up this morning with my dress on but no bra! Oh my God! I can’t remember anything! What if someone took advantage of me in my drunken state?’
‘Have you still got your knickers on?’ Lizzy asked.
‘Well, yes, but …’
‘Do you
think
something might have happened?’
‘I don’t know, I can’t remember!’ Poppet gave a despairing moan. ‘Oh God, what if I had sex I don’t even remember and now I’m pregnant?’
‘Pops, I’m sure no one took advantage of you and made you pregnant.’ Lizzy felt the saliva rush into her mouth. ‘I’ve got to go and be sick. Keep me posted on the bra.’
That morning was the longest of Lizzy’s life. She had the kind of rancid hangover that hits you at a cellular level and makes you feel like your skin is about to peel off your face and your teeth are going to fall out. The one saving grace was that Antonia had phoned to say her daughter Christiana was sick and that she wouldn’t be coming in. By 11 a.m. Lizzy had drained two litres of water and was sitting at her desk quietly wishing to die. Nic had been on an 8 a.m. flight out of Heathrow to New York. She’d sent Lizzy a picture of the massive fry-up she’d had for breakfast in the BA first-class lounge, which had nearly made Lizzy want to throw up again. The woman was a machine. How did she do it?
Just before lunch Lizzy went to have a hangover cry in the toilet and emerged feeling slightly better. When she got back to her desk there was an email from Poppet.
Found bra!!!!! It was in the side pocket of my bag. It’s all coming back to me now, I took it off in the toilet because the underwiring was digging into my boob. PHEWZERS!! I’M NOT PREGNANT!!! Xx
Lizzy wrote back:
I’m thrilled that you aren’t carrying some random stranger’s baby. Now can this day be over please?
Six o’clock couldn’t come round quick enough. Lizzy slept the entire bus journey home and
‘Perfect,’ Poppet said. ‘Funny, but not too funny, remember men like being the funny ones. And you got the helpless damsel in distress bit in at the end.’
They chose a picture of Lizzy in the park from the previous summer, where Poppet said Lizzy’s eyes looked nice, and in which Nic said she was showing off ‘just the right amount of tit’, and put it up. Afterwards Lizzy’s brain hurt as if she’d just sat a major exam.
‘Uh-oh, look,’ Nic said. ‘The Eyes are out.’
Across the table Poppet had taken on that euphoric drunken glaze that only meant one thing. ‘Let’s do shots!’
‘It’s a school night!’ Lizzy protested.
‘It’s Friday tomorrow. Go on, live a little!’
Nic shrugged, as though it was a necessary evil she had to go through. ‘OK,’ Lizzy sighed. ‘But I’m only doing one. And no flaming sambucas!’ She looked at her watch. ‘I need to be home by midnight. I’ve got a busy day tomorrow.’
Chapter 10
Lizzy was woken up by the
beep beep
of a lorry reversing outside. Her whole body hurt, and it took a few moments to realize that instead of being tucked up in her pajamas in a warm bed, she was face-down on the sofa in her living room, still in her clothes.
She turned over and was hit by a wave of nausea. What had
happened
last night? She had very few recollections after leaving the cocktail club, except for ordering Jägerbombs in another bar, and Nic getting into an argument with a blue-haired transvestite about Whitney Houston …
Her mobile went off. It was probably Antonia wondering where the hell she was. Lizzy located her phone under the armchair. There was a sticky red smear on the screen that looked suspiciously like ketchup.
‘Hello?’ she croaked.
‘Oh my God!’ Poppet wailed. ‘I’ve lost my bra!’
Lizzy sat up and winced. ‘What?’
‘I woke up this morning with my dress on but no bra! Oh my God! I can’t remember anything! What if someone took advantage of me in my drunken state?’
‘Have you still got your knickers on?’ Lizzy asked.
‘Well, yes, but …’
‘Do you
think
something might have happened?’
‘I don’t know, I can’t remember!’ Poppet gave a despairing moan. ‘Oh God, what if I had sex I don’t even remember and now I’m pregnant?’
‘Pops, I’m sure no one took advantage of you and made you pregnant.’ Lizzy felt the saliva rush into her mouth. ‘I’ve got to go and be sick. Keep me posted on the bra.’
That morning was the longest of Lizzy’s life. She had the kind of rancid hangover that hits you at a cellular level and makes you feel like your skin is about to peel off your face and your teeth are going to fall out. The one saving grace was that Antonia had phoned to say her daughter Christiana was sick and that she wouldn’t be coming in. By 11 a.m. Lizzy had drained two litres of water and was sitting at her desk quietly wishing to die. Nic had been on an 8 a.m. flight out of Heathrow to New York. She’d sent Lizzy a picture of the massive fry-up she’d had for breakfast in the BA first-class lounge, which had nearly made Lizzy want to throw up again. The woman was a machine. How did she do it?
Just before lunch Lizzy went to have a hangover cry in the toilet and emerged feeling slightly better. When she got back to her desk there was an email from Poppet.
Found bra!!!!! It was in the side pocket of my bag. It’s all coming back to me now, I took it off in the toilet because the underwiring was digging into my boob. PHEWZERS!! I’M NOT PREGNANT!!! Xx
Lizzy wrote back:
I’m thrilled that you aren’t carrying some random stranger’s baby. Now can this day be over please?
Six o’clock couldn’t come round quick enough. Lizzy slept the entire bus journey home and
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