"Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you – you look like a monkey and you smell like one too!"
Nell sang the words down the phone and then burst out laughing. Apparently, her mother Cate always used this bastardised form of the anniversary song when she phoned her children to wish them happy birthday.
Song sung, Nell offered to visit.
"Shall I take you out for your breakfast? Then you can come back with me and we'll get ready for your party."
The offer made Kelly want to weep. She'd woken that morning determined to be cheerful. The day had started well because, contrary to expectations and despite the white chocolate cheesecake's best efforts, she had lost weight. Not the stone and a half that would have been perfect, but seven pounds since she had last weighed herself three weeks ago. That had to be something of a miracle.
Birthday greetings had flooded in from people too. Her Facebook page and Twitter accounts contained postings and Tweets, all wishing her a great day, she'd received several texts, and even snail mail cards.
There was nothing from Mark. Stern admonishments that she should have known that he wouldn't call – God, he probably hadn't even remembered – and that she was daft to have expected him to do so didn't help. As the minutes ticked by, her mind returned over and over to the same thoughts: I'm 40; I'm single; I'm a failure; and I'm never going to meet anyone.
Nell's offer reemphasised her single status.
Nell was her oldest friend. The two of them had met years ago at Glasgow City Council, having both been employed in the local authority's fledgling communications department. Their friendship began in the kitchen, a small area set aside for employees to make teas and coffees, and re-heat soup or ready meals in the small microwave. It was also used as a skulking ground, where people came to bitch when the job wasn't going well.
Kelly and Nell spent a lot of time in the kitchen.
Glasgow City Council was a weird and wonderful place to work. Kelly started there straight from university. She'd been one of the first people to take a degree in public relations, and Glasgow City Council's recruiters saw this as an advantage. The council was beginning to take public relations very seriously. They needed people who could deflect questions about wasteful spending, and ensure that the local authority was seen in the best possible light.
Nell joined not long after – the communications department realising it needed in-house designers, people who could create beautiful posters and leaflets. She hadn't come straight from university, having spent some time working for her then-boyfriend/now husband in his burgeoning sandwich shop empire.
Kelly had found Nell in the kitchen one day. She had turned away quickly as Kelly came in, but not fast enough as Kelly could see she'd been crying.
"Are you okay?" she asked, proffering a tissue from a well-stocked handbag.
Nell took it, and thanked her, blowing her nose hard. "It's just...oh, that old besom Councillor McIllwray."
Kelly nodded in sympathy, familiar with the elected member she named. The woman was head of several council committees and she took an inordinate amount of interest in the workings of the communications department. She and Kelly had clashed on numerous occasions because she always insisted on wordy quotes in press releases that she wouldn't let Kelly alter at all, and her quote always had to be the first one.
"So, this wee leaflet of yours...? I demand that you make it completely pink and you put my picture on the front of it."
The mimicry was spot-on. She reproduced Councillor McIllwray's whiney, nasal tones perfectly, and Nell burst out laughing.
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High Heels and Pink Glitter (18+) COMPLETE, FREE TO READ CHICK LIT
ChickLit"The characters were very real and i guess that's what kept me glued to it.so cheers to everyone is not perfect and u should accept the people for what they really are" "A great read - can't wait to see it in paperback!" "This is so good 🥺" High...
