it was
like she couldn’t breathe around them. Years of separation and a Joseph-sized
elephant in the room seemed to suck up all the air. Throw drunkenness and
missed curfews into the mix and it was quite a party.
Party. The word flashed across her
brain as it had when she read it earlier. Suddenly remembering, she reached
into the pocket of her dressing gown for the card she had tucked away at the
breakfast table; a bright blue envelope with ‘time to party!’ embossed on the
seal. For some reason she hadn’t wanted to open it in front of her
grandparents. Maybe she was too scared of what she would find inside.
Her heart picked up speed slightly. Grow up, she
chided herself, trying to ignore the fact that her hangover seemed to have
returned with a vengeance; it was like the room was going in and out of focus
in time with her heart. After a beat her eyes found the envelope again. She
tore it open.
‘ Happy Birthday, Rae! Sixteen today, getting old now. Lol!
We hope U R having a brill day. Wish we could be there.
Invite us soon? Seriously. Miss you loads!!!’
The words were surrounded by drawings of balloons and little
stick figures. Then there were two familiar but different signatures, the one
with hearts above the ‘i’s and the other all joined up
and neat: ‘ Annie and Bex xxxxxxx’.
Raegan couldn’t swallow down the hard lump in her throat.
The three of them had spent every birthday together for the past decade but
this year she hadn’t even been sure they would remember.
A rush of warmth thudded into her belly and suddenly
the months of silence seemed stupid, pointless. Why was she worrying about
making new friends when she had them? Energised, she pushed up off her elbows
and leaned over to the bedside table, intending to grab her phone and fire off
a thank you text. And then she remembered she had no idea where her phone was.
Her head began to pound again and she almost wailed in
frustration. Why did she have to lose her phone today, of all days? The last
thing she felt like doing was wasting her birthday on the phone to Orange,
explaining that – yet again - she needed a replacement simcard. But maybe there
was still a chance, she thought hopefully. The fact that she couldn’t remember
where she had lost the phone meant that, in theory, it
could just be lying around in her room somewhere, waiting to be found…
She sighed as her eye fell on the towers of clothing and
DVDs that seemed to have grown up around the bed. Her head, almost as if in
answer, gave an almighty throb.
Thump thump thump.
After ten minutes Raegan was still searching fruitlessly,
but the noise that seemed to erupt out of the floor was loud and strange enough
to drag her attention away from the old copies of Glamour littering the
carpet.
Thump.
‘Raegan!’ Con’s voice was
muffled, but it still pierced the quiet like a foghorn. A few more thumps. Was
he hitting the kitchen ceiling? Another thump. It
definitely sounded like a broom handle.
It was also doing nothing for her hangover.
‘You could’ve just knocked on the door,’ she muttered
sourly, clutching at her head before replying with a loud: ‘YEAH?’
‘We’re waiting on you! Get down here or I’ll be up to carry
you!’
She was about to respond when a strange buzzing noise made
her prick up her ears. Was that Con making the floor shake, or something else?
She held her breath.
Yes, there it was again, humming through the silence, a definite
buzz – like a phone vibrating! And it seemed to be coming from the pile of
clothing just by the door. With no thought for her bruised elbows, she flung
herself on the mound, sending clothes flying around the room.
‘YES!’ Breathing heavily, the phone clutched in her hand,
she sat up. ‘Raegan 1, Room 0. Happy birthday to me.’
Her excitement quickly turned to surprise when she saw the
screen. A flashing envelope letting her know she’d run out of space in her
inbox, ten missed calls and two
like she couldn’t breathe around them. Years of separation and a Joseph-sized
elephant in the room seemed to suck up all the air. Throw drunkenness and
missed curfews into the mix and it was quite a party.
Party. The word flashed across her
brain as it had when she read it earlier. Suddenly remembering, she reached
into the pocket of her dressing gown for the card she had tucked away at the
breakfast table; a bright blue envelope with ‘time to party!’ embossed on the
seal. For some reason she hadn’t wanted to open it in front of her
grandparents. Maybe she was too scared of what she would find inside.
Her heart picked up speed slightly. Grow up, she
chided herself, trying to ignore the fact that her hangover seemed to have
returned with a vengeance; it was like the room was going in and out of focus
in time with her heart. After a beat her eyes found the envelope again. She
tore it open.
‘ Happy Birthday, Rae! Sixteen today, getting old now. Lol!
We hope U R having a brill day. Wish we could be there.
Invite us soon? Seriously. Miss you loads!!!’
The words were surrounded by drawings of balloons and little
stick figures. Then there were two familiar but different signatures, the one
with hearts above the ‘i’s and the other all joined up
and neat: ‘ Annie and Bex xxxxxxx’.
Raegan couldn’t swallow down the hard lump in her throat.
The three of them had spent every birthday together for the past decade but
this year she hadn’t even been sure they would remember.
A rush of warmth thudded into her belly and suddenly
the months of silence seemed stupid, pointless. Why was she worrying about
making new friends when she had them? Energised, she pushed up off her elbows
and leaned over to the bedside table, intending to grab her phone and fire off
a thank you text. And then she remembered she had no idea where her phone was.
Her head began to pound again and she almost wailed in
frustration. Why did she have to lose her phone today, of all days? The last
thing she felt like doing was wasting her birthday on the phone to Orange,
explaining that – yet again - she needed a replacement simcard. But maybe there
was still a chance, she thought hopefully. The fact that she couldn’t remember
where she had lost the phone meant that, in theory, it
could just be lying around in her room somewhere, waiting to be found…
She sighed as her eye fell on the towers of clothing and
DVDs that seemed to have grown up around the bed. Her head, almost as if in
answer, gave an almighty throb.
Thump thump thump.
After ten minutes Raegan was still searching fruitlessly,
but the noise that seemed to erupt out of the floor was loud and strange enough
to drag her attention away from the old copies of Glamour littering the
carpet.
Thump.
‘Raegan!’ Con’s voice was
muffled, but it still pierced the quiet like a foghorn. A few more thumps. Was
he hitting the kitchen ceiling? Another thump. It
definitely sounded like a broom handle.
It was also doing nothing for her hangover.
‘You could’ve just knocked on the door,’ she muttered
sourly, clutching at her head before replying with a loud: ‘YEAH?’
‘We’re waiting on you! Get down here or I’ll be up to carry
you!’
She was about to respond when a strange buzzing noise made
her prick up her ears. Was that Con making the floor shake, or something else?
She held her breath.
Yes, there it was again, humming through the silence, a definite
buzz – like a phone vibrating! And it seemed to be coming from the pile of
clothing just by the door. With no thought for her bruised elbows, she flung
herself on the mound, sending clothes flying around the room.
‘YES!’ Breathing heavily, the phone clutched in her hand,
she sat up. ‘Raegan 1, Room 0. Happy birthday to me.’
Her excitement quickly turned to surprise when she saw the
screen. A flashing envelope letting her know she’d run out of space in her
inbox, ten missed calls and two
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