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‘We know it. Everyone knows it,’ carries on Jack. ‘Just my girl Millie here who needs to catch up.’
My girl Millie.Tingles.
I take a single canapé (and fall in love again, with a miniature onion ring I’ll be trying to replicate the second I can), and Jack and I watch the party, from beside each other as if it’s completely normal that a reel of film and Jack Dawson are at a party together: a guest and a plus one.
‘I will get you back for this,’ I say into his ear, nudging him. ‘When you least expect it, Jack Shurlock.’
‘Bring it on.’ He grins, and then his eyes stop scanning on the dancefloor. He gestures with a dip of his head. It’s Lin and she’s waving at me from the middle of a crowd, mouthing, ‘Come!’
‘Oh! I’m going to go over. Say hi.’
‘OK, but you’re not leaving the frame behind .?.?.’
‘But I’ve got to go to thedance floor,’ I protest.
‘Tough. We made a pact,’ says Jack, a hand reaching to pick up my frame. ‘Unbeknownst to you, when you put that frame on your head, you made a promise.’
‘What asentence.’
‘Next party, we can both come as a donkey.’ He moves so he’s opposite me, the frame between us. ‘I’ll let you choose if you want front or back.’
‘No way. The next party will be the Christmas party and that is alwayssuper wanky.I will be in a dress. The dress of my dreams.The opposite of whatever’ – I gesture to my body – ‘this is. And you – you can go full-blown tuxedo.’ I take the frame from him.
He smirks. ‘Well, lucky for me, I’ll have left by then. Which is good. I hate tuxedos.’
‘Shame,’ I say, sliding my frame onto my head. ‘Call me old-fashioned but a man in a tux. My favourite. Plus. Even Jack Dawson had a tux at some point. So, you know, it’sin character.Part of your arc.’
I turn and cross the dance floor – yes, with my frame on because I want everyone to know I haven’t come here, without reason, in what is essentially, a body sock – meander through strangers dancing, and, of course, pointing and laughing at my bloody costume. I nod, smile, say, ‘Ha-ha, yes, yes, I know!’ but wonder if tomorrow, I can gather Cate and Ralph and set the costume on fire in the garden for a ceremonial farewell to it.
A Dua Lipa song begins. Someone dances into me, their shoulder knocking me in the face, blocking me from Lin. And .?.?. oh.Oh.It’s Jess. Good Girl Espresso-in-the-tank Jess. She stops dancing, drink held high, oblivious apparently, to her shoulder hitting my face, and she moves to stand next to .?.?. ah. Chloe. Argh, why are they both here?
‘It’s our queen,’ says Lin. ‘And she’s dressed like a fucking portrait, of course she is. Ilove it.’
‘It’s .?.?. I’m a film scene?’ And I’m not entirely sure why I need to clarify this, standing inches from Owen’s fiancée who turns slowly, looking model-like, and glances at me, drink in hand, like I’ve just taken a shit on the dance floor.
‘Hi, Chloe,’ I say, and Chloe tips her head, just once, a jut of her chin. Jess gives a polite smile. A little more low-key than last time.
‘Hi, Millie.’
Chloe looks amazing. Svelte and elegant in a white strappy gown. Like Gigi Hadid or something.
Lin fiddles with the side of my frame, thick, feathery faux lashes batting. There are droplets of dried, crystalised glitter on them. ‘This is genius,’ she says. ‘Everything about you isgenius.’
‘And you look gorgeous,’ I say, and Lin curtseys. She’s wearing a sheer, floor-length black dress, a dark black bodysuit visible through the lace. There aren’t many people who can pull such a look off, but Lin – of course Lin pulls it off.
‘Why thank you, baby. And hey.’ She leans in, already smirking. Good Girl Jess and Chloe are talking between them, beside us on the dance floor, but both with one tentative eye on me, like I might suddenly strip off my clothes to reveal another confession, this time, scrawled on my body in lipstick. Another stunt. ‘What’s happening with you and Shurlock?’
Oh, God.I’m now on fire. A sausage of a woman in a cast-iron griddle. ‘Me and – Jack?’
‘Yeah,’ Lin says. ‘He’s a bit too pretty for me, but – he’s smoking hot, and he’s just sosmooth,you know?’
‘Is he?’ Why do I sound so high-pitched?
‘I mean, me? I like mygirlspretty, and my boys more cage fighters, you know? But fuck. You and him .?.?. there’s chemistry, no? He can’t take his eyes off you, and when you’re both together, you’re super smiley and glowy andsexy, I love it—’
‘Oh, God, no.’ Chloe and Jess are now both listening, oh, Christ. If it were just me and Lin, I might tell her that I like Jack a bit, that I have a (pretty big and getting bigger and bigger) crush on him, that the more I get to know him, the more I think he absolutely would mirror Dream Jack Shurlock of sexy push-against-wall passion – and I reallywantto, deep down. It’s so nice, feeling this little fizz in my belly,likingsomeone, that whole mystery dance, wondering if they’re flirting back, and Lin is such a cheerleader, she’s nothing but a delight to have in your corner. But I feel like a total dickhead flaunting my happy, flirty, little crush on Jack under newly-broken-up-because-of-me Chloe. Plus, Lin and Chloe are friends. They might gossip about me.‘Nice of her, hitting on your fiancé and meanwhile, flirting with Jack – who does she think she is?!’
‘Did you just say no?’ Lin’s eyebrows are now two confused wiggles. ‘Are you mad? He’s hooked, I reckon—’
