Egotism and Enmity

Chapter Three

Georgie waved her hand absentmindedly. "I was just doing some shopping down the road and I just popped in to get a cold drink – it's boiling out there!"

Chaz rolled his eyes dramatically. "Tell me about it," he said. "I used deodorant this morning, but I'm still a little damp."

I stared at him for a moment, in silence, more than a little disgusted, and wondered if he was joking. I couldn't be completely sure.

Wisely deciding to gloss over the subject, Georgie said briskly, "Anyway, I'm glad I ran into you. I was going to call both of you later on. I'm having a dinner party tomorrow and it's been so long since we've all seen each other. I've got a couple of other friends coming and my brother's just got back in town after a long business trip. You've never actually met him, have you? It'll be a pretty casual evening – up for it?"

"Definitely," we said and Georgie gave us more details about the evening. Then, in her usual ditzy way, she rushed off, saying something along the lines of relieving her husband, Hugh, from babysitting duties. Georgie's son was the most adorable child I'd ever met – I hazarded a guess that he was almost three now and if history would repeat itself, he loved me. (See, I really do have a way with kids!) Chaz and I waved our goodbyes as our friend hurried out of the café.

"Is she muttering to herself?" I asked, chuckling.

She had always been forgetful and scatter brained, so we weren't surprised when she came rushing back in because she had left her sunglasses on the table.

.

At 7 PM the next day, I found myself trying to make myself look socially acceptable in time for the party. Even though Georgie had said it was only a casual dinner, I suspected that that didn't actually mean that I could turn up in the pyjamas that I'd been wearing all day. I picked up my phone to stop the incessant beeping that was my ringtone. I was mid-way through attempting to neatly paint my toenails, so I had to awkwardly hold the phone somewhere between my neck and my shoulder; needless to say, not comfortable at all. "Hello?" I grunted.

"What are you wearing?" said Chaz, by way of a greeting. For some, hearing those words led onto a saucy phone call. For me, it meant the fashion police were on patrol. Chaz always tried to control what I was wearing but, tonight, I had firmly decided that I would refuse to let myself end up looking like a Wham music video extra.

"Um, just a white dress, nothing showy. Why?"

"Just seeing how I should colour coordinate with you. I have a Ralph Lauren cricket jumper and white chinos that I can wear. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

"Sure."

"Oh, Lizzie? I'm driving. I don't want a repeat of last time." The 'last time' I had driven Chaz somewhere, I had accidentally crashed into a dustbin while trying to park the car. I still maintain that there was no way I could have seen the bin from the angle that my mirror was at, but Chaz wouldn't buy it. "See you soon!" He said, in a sing-song voice that he knew irritated me.

I blew in the direction of my toe nails, in an attempt to dry them off. No matter how long I spent trying to dry them, I knew that they would smudge anyway, so I didn't waste too much time on it. I pulled on a simple white cotton shirt dress and dabbed on some light pink lip gloss and mascara. By the time I had done my hair, Chaz had arrived (he was persisting in knocking out the rhythm of 'Barbie Girl' on the door knocker).

"I'll get the door!" Jane called from downstairs.

"I'm almost done, I'll be down in two minutes," I yelled in reply. I slid my phone into my bag and put on my brown leather sandals. I was not a fan of these open toed monstrosities what with the obscene amount of times I'd stubbed my toes whilst wearing them, but the words of my mother on prom night always came back to haunt me; "No pain, no gain." I grimaced.