It Started With A Tweet(2)

Hey, Sis, hope you’re having a great birthday! Did my card arrive in time? I’ll try and get up to see you soon – it’s been ages. Daisy xx

I send the message before logging into Moonpig and ordering a quick birthday card, picking the first ‘Sister’ one I find that doesn’t require a photo upload. By the time Erica makes it back to the table, I’ve written it and had it posted, and can now blame Royal Mail for her not receiving it on time, cough.

‘Now, I tell you what, if I wasn’t with Chris .?.?.’ she says, winking at me. ‘You should get yourself over there.’

‘What, and incur the wrath of Zoe? Wasn’t that against the rules – no diversions from the hen? Plus, he’s not my type.’

‘What, tall, handsome and here in real life?’

‘Very funny. I do meet up with my dates, you know.’

‘Uh-huh, then dismiss them for not living up to their online personas.’

‘It’s not my fault that people deliberately lie on their profiles. If only the men I spoke to on Tinder told the truth.’

Erica howls with laughter. ‘Like you do? When was your profile photo taken?’

‘It was taken at a temple at Chiang Mai and I use it because it shows I’m cultured.’

‘Sure you do. It’s not because it was taken four years ago when you had less wrinkles .?.?.’

‘It’s actually more about that awesome tan I had, rather than the wrinkles.’

‘Ah, I’ve missed this,’ says Erica. ‘We haven’t been out like this for ages. Hell, I haven’t seen you for ages.’

‘I know, work has been so crazy,’ I say, nodding. ‘It’ll calm down soon.’

For the amount of time I see my best friend, you’d never believe that I was currently living in her spare room.

‘Done it,’ says Tess as she triumphantly walks back to the table. She shows us a picture on her phone.

‘He definitely wins “Escaped from captivity”,’ I say, holding my handbag a little closer. ‘He looks like he belongs on one of those photofits on Crimewatch.’

‘Oh, he’s harmless. I used to teach him; he’s a gentle giant and an absolute whizz at algebra.’

Erica and I look over in surprise.

‘Right, ladies,’ says Zoe, storming up to the table. She’s Helen’s chief bridesmaid and BFF from home; she takes both roles very seriously. ‘Thank you for your photo contributions, we’ll be judging who won the challenge later on. But in the meantime, I’ve nabbed us a big sofa area so we can play the next game.’

She claps her hands together as if to hurry us along and the three of us plaster fake smiles on our faces.

‘Great,’ I say, feigning enthusiasm. Any actual enthusiasm was lost along with my dignity, which was around the same time as I put on the outfit that makes Julia Roberts’s hooker costume in Pretty Woman look conservative.

‘At least with all these games we’re not spending that much money here,’ says Tess as she struts off ahead of us. She’s not wrong, which is good because the hen do practically warranted its own savings plan. Helen and her fiancé are eloping to Las Vegas so this is for all those who can’t afford to attend the real wedding. Only, to be honest, I’m pretty sure that I could have flown to Vegas for less money than today’s activities. I’m just counting my lucky stars that Helen wanted her hen do in London – at least Erica and I don’t need a hotel for the night.

The area that Zoe’s found for us sees two sofas facing each other, wedged into the corner of the room. Most of the other people on the hen do have nabbed the comfy bits already, so I find myself perching on a knobbly arm with Erica.

‘OK, so I’m sure that everyone’s played Cards Against Humanity before, right?’ says Zoe. ‘Well, I’ve made us a hen-do version. I’m going to give each of you six cards that have answers on them, then Helen will select and read a statement card from the deck and you have to put forward the answer card you think will fit best. The lovely Helen will then pick her favourite. OK?’

Before anyone can say anything, Zoe’s started to deal the cards. No doubt because she’s only allotted us a certain amount of time to play this game, as the whole hen do has been run to a strict time schedule.

I pick up the cards I’ve been dealt and read them over:



Keeping your toenails clipped

Owning a whip

A good right hook

The missionary position

Not giving a shit

Organisation and planning



I’ve only ever played the official Cards Against Humanity, and that was when I was pretty drunk, but this looks as if it’s going to be less offensive and more risqué. Probably for the best, as I don’t know many of Helen’s other friends.

I pick up my phone and tap out a quick tweet.



Hang on to your hat @amelieMwah we’re playing Cards Against Humanity Hen Do style – be prepared!!!



‘Right, then, first statement,’ says Helen, turning over the card with a cheeky glint in her eye that lets me know she’s enjoying every minute of this day. ‘The secret to good sex is .?.?.’

There’s a tittering amongst the hens as we all start rereading our answer cards, looking at what’s most suitable, e.g. the funniest. To be honest, all mine are pretty apt – well, apart from the missionary position one – unless that’s what you’re into. I’m about to put down ‘keeping your toenails clipped’ when I change my mind and put ‘owning a whip’.