Saviour (Saviour #1)(3)
CHAPTER TWO
I have been looking forward to this night out for weeks; it’s just what I need. A loud, raucous night of drunken girl talk, a chance to forget about everything else and the decision I have come to. I have never disclosed the violent nature of my domestic situation to any of my girlfriends, as far as my girls are concerned, I have a good marriage and for the most part, I do. That’s the gutting thing about all of this, if he could just see what he was throwing away. They are as close to me as sisters but they have no idea I am planning on leaving my husband and they have no idea my husband hurts me ... And just for one more night, that was the way it was going to stay!
I am the oldest amongst my group of girlfriends but with good genes and a lot of vanity, I know I don't look it. I’ve always had a pretty good figure and a decent pair of boobs that have stood up well to the test of time. As a child I had hated my curly red hair and had sworn that as soon as I was old enough I would have it straightened and dye it black. But at around the age of sixteen, I began to realise, my curly red mane and my generously sized knockers could get me just about anything I wanted where men were concerned and over the years, with the quality of straighteners and product on offer, I now had the option of straight, controlled waves or full on curls when it came to styling my hair. Well that’s what it said on the side of the bottle any way! Tonight I had opted for sleek and straight but with the sides flicking back and hanging down past my shoulders. Very seventies in style.
I am wearing my trademark jeans, tucked into long boots and a chiffon blouse, with a short leather jacket over the top and I feel good. I've dropped a few kilos these past few weeks, what with all the tension at home but weight loss for a woman, caused by whatever reason, generally makes us feel good.
Jo picked me up earlier in the cab and as we walk into the pub we can already see Jemma and Lulu sitting at a table in the corner. They have wine chilling in a bucket with our glasses standing to attention and waiting to be filled. After kisses all round, I pour myself and Jo a drink, clink glasses with everyone, say cheers and take a very large swig. “Shit I soooo need this”
“You okay?” asks Jemma, “You look very tired and you’ve lost more weight”
Jemma is my closest friend and never misses a beat when it comes to how I look and how I might be feeling. She has been seriously on my case these past few months, asking if everything is okay with me. So many times I have come close to telling her everything but Jason and her husband Max are pretty good mates and I know that once Jemma is made aware of what’s going on, there will be no going back.
“Yeah, I'm fine”.... Not wanting to dampen the mood by telling them about my woes.... “Just had a shitty week”
“Why, what’s happened?” She’s not going to leave it is she? I notice Lulu and Jo observing us and I get the distinct feeling, this night has been organized to get to the bottom of what is going on with me.
I love my friend’s dearly but I do not want to be discussing my marriage or the demise of it, in all its unfortunate details tonight. Tonight is about kicking back and having some much needed fun. Tomorrow will be the day, Jason is off playing golf early tomorrow so I will round them all up and let them know things are over between myself and Jay. I am still undecided as to whether or not to tell them all of the details, I really do not want their pity, I don’t want anyone’s pity!
We sit and we chat and we catch up with what is going on in each of our lives. All of us apart from Jo are married with children. Jo has a thirty year old son; Sean. This is unbelievable really, as she has only just turned forty five herself. Yep, do the maths; her parents were thrilled when that news broke. Her boyfriend’s even less so. She had never married Sean's father and never really had any kind of relationship with him, his parents refused to let him have any contact with her or the baby and sent him to live interstate.
She has lived with a few men over the years but is single right now. It’s been around ten years since she had thrown out the last man to share her home. She runs her own very successful accountancy firm and unfortunately seemed to attract complete losers for a while, She had eventually seen the light with the last bloke she had lived with when she noticed the online shopping he was doing with her credit card was either on porn sites or buying sex toys. This would have been fine, except she had never got to watch the porn and the sex toys hadn’t been for her! She was happily single now and would just pick up a one night stand if she ever felt the need for sex. The men in question were generally boys, as in her words they were dumb and grateful and didn't want anything other than sex from her. Whatever works, I’ve always thought. Feeling just a little bit jealous of the freedom she has.
After four bottles and lots of chat we decide to move on to somewhere we can dance and being the age that we are, the last place we want to go is a nightclub full of kids falling all over the place so instead we head for a bar we know that stays open late and always has great live bands playing, with enough room to dance if we want to.
The bar is packed when we walk in to the sound of 'Is she really going out with him’ being sung by just about everyone in the place. Oh dear….70’s & 80’s night, this is going to be loud and we will probably get emotional at some stage too, that’s usually the way things went when the four of us and vast quantities of alcohol and songs from our formative years were involved, funny how music does that, evokes so many memories. Joe Jackson reminds me very much of my school days and growing up in London, well it was Essex really but since we moved to Australia it had been easier just to say London. Everyone has heard of London right? And this song and no doubt the rest of what would be played tonight just reminded me of England. Music was something that had helped get me through when we moved here in late 1980, I was 13 and very angry and made a conscious effort to only listen to music from the UK charts. My friends would send me mix tapes recorded straight from the radio and I would lay in my room listening to them and cry, desperate to go back to the place I loved….Home. Once I had my own children I came to realise why my parents had made the move, why they had wanted to get us out, to give us, what they hoped would be a better start, and it had been, it was, I have lived a life and done things my friends in Barking could only ever dream of….but at the end of the day, I was an Essex Girl and as the saying goes…You can take the girl out of Essex, But you will never take the Essex out of the girl….Jason has always said Essex is to blame for my smart mouth and he is probably right…let’s face it “Oh she’s very quiet, must be an Essex Girl” Is a sentence said by no one…ever …. But I also like to think it has given me that little something extra when it comes to my sense of style, that edge, the need to be just a little bit different, not just in my fashion sense, which always draws comments and something Jay had always loved about me, at least he had always told me he did, but who knows now days?…. But also in my work….people have always liked my interiors, mainly because I like to do something different, not way out weirdo different, just things that are not usually seen in Australia, well they are but maybe 2 years down the track. Phew, all that from one song, that’s what I mean about music evoking memories, good and bad. I really hope I can hold back the tears tonight, the lump I have in my throat is almost choking me right now