Chapter 5: Bad Timing

Taking yet another glance at the clock on the kitchen wall, I drummed my fingers on the breakfast bar. This was torture. It'd be another twenty minutes before Drew came to collect me. Why had it only taken half an hour to get ready?

Of course, I knew why. Afraid I'd get held up at the shop at closing time, I'd set my alarm for stupid o'clock this morning so that I could spend an hour and a half in my tiny bathroom, bathing, shaving, trimming and plucking. Despite being absolutely certain nothing was going to happen, I still had this niggling feeling I should be, well... Prepared. Just in case.

But nothing was going to happen. Although Drew and I had spoken by phone a couple of times since Sunday evening, neither one of us had alluded to doing anything other than drinking champagne and watching pay-per-view movies. Which suited me just fine. Besides, it was a good idea to pamper yourself once in a while, wasn't it? Especially on your birthday. So why the hell did I feel so nervous? I'd been alone with Drew countless times before, spent many a pleasant evening in his company. This would surely be no different, just a change of venue.

"Oh, for God's sake..." I muttered, irritated by my own restlessness. And sliding off my stool, I strode purposefully into the living room, pausing to grimace at my reflection in the mirror above the fireplace. "Get a grip!"

There wasn't anything to be nervous about. I even looked reasonably okay, I thought, offering up a thank you to the goddess of good hair days. My dark, shoulder-length waves were curling in the right direction for once, and that new mascara I'd bought had actually delivered on its promise to lengthen my lashes. And further bucking the trend, I'd managed to iron the collar on my favourite white shirt so that it fitted against my neck and wasn't trying to crawl off down my back like it usually did. No, so far as outward appearances went, not bad at all. The rest, well...

The girl in the mirror grimaced back at me. For heaven's sake, Drew wasn't going to see the rest, so why worry? Everything was going to be fine. And for a moment, I was almost convinced—until the sound of a car pulling up outside made my heart skip a beat...

Though that was nothing compared to what it did when I hurried to the window to discover it wasn't Drew. It was my parents, already climbing out of their Volvo estate, the street lamp illuminating the small gift-wrapped parcel in my mother's hand.

"Oh shit!" I breathed, appalled by their spectacularly bad timing.

When Mum had called me on Wednesday to say they'd returned home safely from their cruise, I'd decided to say nothing about the fact that I'd be staying in a hotel on the night of my birthday. Worse still, I hadn't said anything at all about going out with Drew. I'd meant to send Dad a text message saying I was meeting up with some friends in town so that he wouldn't feel the need to pop over. How could I have forgotten?

Not much I could do about that now. But Drew wasn't due to arrive yet, not for another quarter of an hour. And already praying he'd be late, I hurried out to the hall. If he didn't turn up bang on time, there was still a chance Mum and Dad would be gone by the time he arrived.

"Happy Birthday!" Mum said brightly the moment the door swung open, wearing that slightly odd half-smile I'd come to dread. I could still remember how she used to smile, her whole face crumpling with pleasure. It felt like light years ago now. "Ah." The smile, such as it was, faded abruptly as she took in my appearance. "You look... smart." That too seemed to be about as much of a compliment as she could pay me these days. "On your way out?"

"Actually, yes," I said, feeling ridiculously guilty considering I wasn't lying. "I'm so sorry—I meant to let you know. And now you've come all the way over here..."

By now, Dad had joined her on the doorstep, his smile rather warmer. "Doesn't matter," he said cheerfully. "We only came to bring your pressie. June—" He gave my mother a meaningful nudge. "Give her the present, then."

"Oh." Looking flustered, she glanced down at the neatly-wrapped parcel she clutched against the lapel of her coat. "Happy birthday," she said again, holding it out to me. "It's just a little something we picked up in Barbados."

"Thank you," I said automatically, at the same time wondering whether there was any way I could get out of opening the package in their presence. "You shouldn't have."

You're our daughter," Mum snapped back at once, her tone so brittle I cringed. "Of course we should."

I swallowed hard. Amazing—we'd arrived at a painfully awkward moment in record time. Maybe next year I should just cancel my birthday. "Do you want to come in a minute?" I mumbled helplessly. "It's chilly out here." In more ways than one.

"Just for a moment, then," Dad said, his cheeriness noticeably forced now. "Don't want to hold you up."

Defeated, I stepped to the side then followed them in, not bothering to check my watch again. It was a vain hope, anyway.

Drew was never late.