The April sun streaming through the sitting room window rudely awakes me. The big windows filling the room with early morning light are what first attracted me to this house, but today it is most unwelcome. As soon as I open my eyes I’m hit with a wave of nausea, first from the aftereffects of wine, then strengthened by the memory of last nights events. I am positive that if I move even an inch I will vomit, slowly I let my eyes roam the room for the nearest vomit depositing vessel, even moving my eyes sets the room spinning around me. No time left to think, I jump up and in a leap of faith land just in the nick of time with my head over the waste paper bin in the corner. I hate being sick, but now that its over (I hope) I do feel marginally better.
Its 8am, way too early to be awake with a hangover. Pulling the quilt off the floor and wrapping it around me I’m momentarily comforted. I need a coffee, and a bath, but first I need Cassie. Jake will be coming back, in theory anyway, guessing at the actions of this ‘new Jake’ I have discovered, he may just keep his distance, but just in case he doesn’t I’m feeling way too fragile right now to cope, at least if Cassie is here she can deflect for me.
Gingerly picking up the phone I speed dial her, she answers in two rings “Hi there, bit early for you isn’t it?” she chirps, her usual cheerful self.
“Are you busy Caz?” trying and failing to hide the crack in my voice.
“Hey what’s happened?” the sudden alarm in her voice breaks me, I’m always emotional on a hangover at the best of times, “Its Jake….he’s…..he’s….” I don’t manage much through the sobs now wracking my aching body; she has always had a knack for reducing me to tears without saying a word.
“Hey, it’s alright, I just need to drop the kids off then I’ll be there, about an hour OK?” she soothes, probably guessing what has happened.
“OK…thanks” I sniff. Mumbling goodbyes I head up to the bathroom and run the hot tap into the tub full blast, I feel atrocious. Before I know what’s happening I’m folded over the toilet bowl retching my guts up again.
The vomiting finally subsides just as the bath is ready, I feel weak and shaky, but as I peel my clothes off and sink into the hot water, I’m instantly revived. The heat soothes every ache and relaxes every muscle, for now at least, as my body eases my mind lets go and I allow myself to cry, great having sobs, into the bubbles.
I give myself 40minutes, topping up the hot water twice in that time, then reluctantly leave my soapy cocoon. Roughly towelling the worst of the moisture off, I tramp into the bedroom, somehow I don’t feel like sliding across the floor boards today. Pulling on my house clothes, an old oversized tracksuit with fleece lining, proper comfort clothing. Then topping it off with a thick dressing gown and fluffy slippers; I’m just scrunching my damp hair into a messy bun when I hear the doorbell. Freezing in my tracks the racing heart and nausea return instantly….Jake!
“Kate, it’s me” Cassie’s voice thank god. I take the stairs as fast as my sore head will let me, opening the door I’m practically knocked over by Cassie’s all too enthusiastic bear hug. When she pulls away concern is etched all over her face, her eyes wordlessly asking if I’m OK.
“I’m feeling much better” I say weakly, desperate not to crack again, “I had a bath” I offer my lame reasoning.
A sympathetic smile plays on her lips, her eyes still sad for me as she holds up a carrier bag “haagen-dazs for breakfast?” breaking into a grin.
“I’ll get the chocolate sauce” I smile fondly back at her, she sure knows how to pick a girl up.
We eat for a while in silence straight out the tub, chocolate sauce oozing over the sides onto the table as we dig our spoons in greedily. Ice cream breakfast is definitely a wondrous hangover cure. About halfway down Cassie clears her throat, she doesn’t look up at me, or say anything, but in her own way she is gently prompting me for an explanation as to why we are here overdosing on calories at 9.30 on a Sunday morning.