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pottery lunatic hour arms tar barrel bread crown
It should have been such a great day but now here I was striding along this road, the heat of the day making the tar on the road stick to my shoes. These high heels would be the death of me yet, they were pulling on my feet but there was no way I could take them off and walk on this rough road with more miles of countryside to go. It will take me at least another hour to get home.
It all started last week when my lunatic best friend, Angela, decided to throw me a party in honour of me opening my first exhibition in a few weeks’ time. I’d been so busy getting everything ready, making sure all my pottery pieces were exactly right, the firing had gone well, the glazing wasn’t crazed and all the hand-painted artwork was going really well.
Then Angela turned up on my doorstep Friday night and gaily informed me she was taking me to her house where a few friends would gather to honour my success as an artist.
I tried all the tricks in the book not to go but she had me over a barrel. I’d arranged a similar surprise event for her a few years ago and she’d waited this long to get her revenge on me, well that’s what it felt like.
‘Come on, Natalie, you know you’ll enjoy it when you get there.’ Angela’s pleading face was enough, so despite all my protestations and foreboding about the event I agreed to go.
Angela picked me up and we drove to her house in the country, the next thing I knew she’d invited all of our friends and it seems their friends as well. The house was bursting at the seams and then he walked in. I hadn’t seen Nigel for a year so I was so surprised when my heart started to thump with excitement and my tummy had butterflies in it.
Nigel wrapped me in his arms, ‘God I’ve missed you Natalie!’
I just snapped. I picked up the first thing that I could grab, luckily I was standing by the buffet table and a loaf of bread, as yet uncut, smashed it across the crown of his head.
His swearing and cussing could be heard across the whole of the house. I picked up a bouquet of balloons and, with my head held high, made a hasty exit out of the front door.
He had a nerve. What a cheek! My indignation took me striding a mile up the road before I ran out of steam. Then my tears started to flow. What on earth was Angela thinking invited my ex to my party? It should have been a celebration and she should have known better.
My mobile had been pinging with text messages and phone calls as I strode along but I ignored it. I certainly don’t need friends like these, not now and never again would I be hurt like this.
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