put on them, not that that would have helped, because I knew from experience that they responded to that by turning a violent shade of yellow, like your wee does after you’ve drunk a Berocca.
The dress I’d bought, a lilac satin slip with black lace edging, made me look like the heroine of a Victorian novel who was about to die of consumption and was – I could now see in the full-length mirror – totally the wrong length, hitting my legs at the widest part and making them look the shape of milk bottles, as well as the colour.
‘Shit, Frazz, why did I agree to this?’
My cat opened one eye and turned over, saying quite clearly that if I changed my mind about going out, that was absolutely fine with him.
But there was no way I could let Dani down. I slapped on some foundation that was meant to make my skin glowy and pearly, but was slightly the wrong shade and made me look like I needed a good wash. I tried to tame my hair with serum, but it refused to co-operate so I attacked it mercilessly with straighteners, knowing I’d pay the price in split ends.
I might as well give up, I decided. It didn’t particularly matter what I looked like – this was going to be Dani’s night. And I had no intention of pulling one of Fabian Flatley’s friends, no matter what the Stargazer app said about the location of Venus in my rising sign. I’d settle for being her corpse-like, frizzy-haired wingwoman, and make my excuses and leave as soon as I could see things were going okay with her and Fabian.
I looked longingly at my trusty Converse, lying next to the bed ready for me to slip my feet into them as I did practically every morning. ‘Come on,’ they seemed to be saying, ‘wear us! We could do with an exciting outing! We’ve barely left the postcode in months! And we’re so comfortable!’
But there was letting myself be outshone by Dani, and there was letting the side down entirely. Besides, I’d painted my toenails for the first time in ever so long, and I wasn’t going to let that annoying, tedious effort go to waste. I rummaged underneath my bed, which was where my shoes lived because the flat had no wardrobe, and pulled out my one and only pair of high heels. I’d last worn them when I was a bridesmaid at my friend Nadia’s wedding four years ago, before she’d moved to New Zealand with her husband. Four years is a long time, but the blisters were as fresh in my memory as if it was yesterday.
Too bad, I told my feet, deal with it. Strappy silver stilettos it is today. I forced on the shoes, put my phone, keys and lip balm in my little silver backpack (which I promised myself was actually quite retro cool and didn’t make me look like I was hopelessly unprepared to climb Ben Nevis), kissed Frazzle goodbye and headed out, resisting the temptation to stick my head round the door of the pub kitchen and face Robbie’s excoriating criticism of my outfit.
Dani was waiting for me outside the station, as we’d agreed. Any smidgeon of doubt I might have had that she wouldn’t outshine me as comprehensively as Mars outshines Pluto vanished as soon as I saw her. She was wearing a nude lace bodysuit that looked almost like she was wearing nothing at all, high-waisted satin combat trousers that showed off her tiny waist and incredible bum, and black heeled gladiator sandals that made my shoes look like something your nana would slip on to take the dog out. Her hair was as smooth and glossy as dark chocolate, flowing down her back like it had melted there. Her make-up was flawless and, apart from her extravagant lash extensions and coral lipstick, almost invisible.
‘Wow,’ I said, hugging her. ‘Knock-out.’
‘You too,’ she said kindly. ‘Love the dress! So cool! Unlike me, I’m sweating like a horse I’m so nervous.’
‘Don’t be. You look amazing, and we’ll walk really slowly so we don’t get too hot.’
As if, in those shoes, I had a choice.
We got on the train and sat in silence next to each other. Dani kept checking her phone, tapping from WhatsApp to her map, anxiously making sure she knew the way and even more anxiously looking for a message from Fabian. But I could tell from the expression on her face