metal. Growing up, I had lots of practice at sneaking into houses – non-burglar-like – as I often stayed with my great aunt, who was strict about curfews (screw it, let’s call a spade a spade – the woman was a mean old cow), so I manage to slot the key into place almost silently, turning it ever so gently until the door starts to give. This is the easy bit done with. The hardest part is removing the key without alerting the occupant inside.
With one hand against the door, I ease the key from the lock, breath held and face scrunched up in concentration. I’m nearly there. The key is coming loose. A little bit more and it’ll be free. I’ll creep inside, closing the door with as little noise as possible, before slinking up the stairs. Once I’ve made it up there, I’m golden. If Alice finds me in bed, I’ll just pretend to be asleep.
The key slips from the lock and I give the door a gentle nudge, almost jumping out of my skin as I come face to face with Alice, looming on the doormat like Great Aunt Dorothy.
‘Holy humus, Alice!’ I’ve somehow managed to swallow the gasp of surprise as I take a step back, one hand pressed against my chest. ‘What are you doing? You scared the crap out of me.’
‘Ssh!’ Alice’s eyes are wide, a finger vertical across her lips. When she speaks, she’s whispering. ‘I thought you were Kevin.’
‘Do you usually hide behind the door to scare the living daylights out of your boyfriend?’ I, too, am whispering, though I’m not sure why.
‘No, of course not.’ Alice grabs me and pulls me inside, her finger going back up to her lips once my feet are firmly on the ground again. She nods towards the living room. ‘Francelia is here.’
‘What?’ I manage to groan while whispering. ‘Why? What have we done to deserve this?’
‘Something bad, obviously.’ Alice narrows her eyes at me. ‘Why are you home so early?’
I concentrate on shoving my keys into my handbag so I don’t have to look at Alice when I reply. ‘The date didn’t go too well.’
I sneak a peek up at Alice. She’s folded her arms across her chest and an eyebrow is quirked at me. ‘What do you mean? What happened?’
This is why I was so keen to avoid Alice tonight. She’s affronted every time a date goes awry, as though I’ve insulted her by not falling head over heels with the guy. I look down at the doormat beneath my feet. This really is like getting collared sneaking into Great Aunt Dorothy’s house and I’m lost for words as she awaits an explanation.
‘Emily…?’
I sneak another peek at her. Poor Alice. There is such hope in her eyes. It’s going to be such a shame to squish it.
‘I ended it.’
‘You ended it?’ Alice’s voice comes out all high and squeaky, and she clamps a hand to her mouth, her eyes swivelling towards the closed living room door. When she speaks again, the whisper is back. ‘What happened?’ Her eyebrow quirks again, as though adding ‘this time’ to the end of her question.
‘He wanted me to meet his parents.’ I wait for a reaction, but Alice doesn’t bat an eyelid. ‘His parents, Alice. We’ve been on three dates. That isn’t normal!’
Alice opens her mouth to argue, but closes it again with a sigh. ‘I suppose you’re right. It is a bit soon.’
‘A bit soon?’ I give a hoot, which earns me a death glare from Alice, who thrusts a thumb at the living room. I dutifully lower my voice even further. ‘Three dates, Alice. I’ve known the man for approximately six hours. You’ve been with Kevin for a year and…’ I yelp as Alice grabs me by the arm, her grip so tight it pinches.
‘Will you shush?’ Her eyes are back on the living room door again.
‘Sorry.’ I try to extricate myself from Alice’s grasp, but the woman’s fingers are like a vice. ‘But you know what I mean. Also, you’re really hurting me.’
‘What?’ Alice looks down, suddenly realising I’m trying to squirm from her grip. ‘Oh. Sorry.’ She releases my arm and I start to inch towards the stairs.
‘Anyway, I’m exhausted. I’m going to go up to bed.’
‘No, you are not.’ Alice’s fingers are clutching my arm again before I can make any attempt to shuffle off upstairs. ‘You are not leaving me with that woman. She’s been here for twenty minutes and I already feel like jumping off a very tall building. She’s mocked my career choice, my living arrangements, my so-called weight gain.’ Alice looks down at her tiny frame. ‘Pur-lease. Bitch knows I look smokin’ hot.’ She tightens her grip on my arm, and her eyebrows press down low. ‘Any minute now we’re going to start on my love life. I need you, Emily.’
‘Wouldn’t it be easier if you just told them about Kevin?’
Despite their one-year relationship, Alice hasn’t told her family about her boyfriend. They’ve never met him or even heard his name. As far as they’re aware, Alice is still very much single (and doesn’t Francelia like to goad Alice about that).
‘Are you kidding me?’ Alice jabs her free hand at the living room door. ‘That woman in there would make our relationship hell until she’d crushed it if she knew about me and Kevin. You’ve met her. She’s evil. There’s not a chance in hell she’d accept Kevin.’
‘Not even if she knew you were totally in lurve with him?’ I make a silly kissy face, but it doesn’t make Alice smile. In fact, it makes her face and shoulders droop.
‘Especially if she knew I was totally in love with him. She’s done it before and she’ll do it again. She doesn’t want me to be happy.’
‘You have to tell them the truth one day,’ I point out.
‘I know.’ Alice nods, though with little enthusiasm. ‘And I will. Just not now when Carolyn’s about to get married. The wedding is the only thing that’s put Francelia in a good mood – I don’t want to ruin it. Now isn’t a good time.’
‘Will there ever be a good time?’ I ask, but Alice doesn’t get the chance to answer as the living room door swings open. I almost recoil in horror as evil stepmother Francelia appears in the doorway. She’s actually beautiful (on the outside) – though this is more down to her highly paid surgeon than Mother Nature. Francelia is forty-seven (and not thirty-five as she tells everyone) but she doesn’t have a single crease on her face or grey hair in her glossy, chin-length bob.
‘What’s going on out here?’ she asks, eyes narrowed (no crow’s feet) and one hand planted on a slender hip. ‘And why have I been left to fend for myself? This is not how we treat guests, Alice. You are a very rude young lady at times. Your father would be shocked at your behaviour.’
‘Papa Monroe not here today then?’ I pop my head past Francelia into what I know will be an empty living room. Alice’s father hasn’t been to the house in the ten years I’ve lived here, and I think I’d die of shock if he rocked up now.
‘Mr Monroe is very busy this evening.’ Francelia has an icy glare when she’s irritated. It’s actually quite scary. It makes me wonder what would happen if I chanted ‘Francelia Monroe’ three times in front of a mirror.
‘He is a very busy man,’ I say, which is clear, as he never has time for his daughter. Alice flashes me a pleading look, silently begging me to leave it. Alice is a strong and feisty woman, but she wilts whenever she’s in Francelia’s presence.
‘He is indeed.’ The corners of Francelia’s mouth pull upwards, hinting at a smile. ‘Now, are we going to stand out here all evening?’
‘No. Of course not.’ Alice finally releases my arm and follows Francelia back into the living room. She glances over her shoulder, eyes wide and pleading. It’s been a very trying evening and I want nothing more than to drag myself up the