Damaged Memories

Part 16

"So how long did it take you to get over your hangover on Sunday?" Emma asked. She and Grace were strolling through the prestigious outdoor shopping precinct, Grosvenor Lane, as the winter sun beamed down like it was the height of summer, in search of a new outfit for Grace who was due to be attending an upcoming charity event with Patrick. He was an avid supporter of environmental activism and was the ambassador for the Green Light charity who dedicated their time and money to researching better ways to live sustainably, so he'd been called upon for the charity evening to be a guest speaker and of course Grace was to attend with him. And although she had insisted that she had plenty of dresses to choose from at home, Emma never missed the opportunity to drag her sister out for a spot of shopping, living vicariously through Grace as much as she possibly could.

"Oh god it was awful," Grace said. "Probably one of the worst hangovers I've ever had."

"Really? Worse than the hangovers you used to have at Uni?"

"Oh yeah, far worse."

There had been twelve of them out celebrating Sam's birthday and initially it was meant to be a casual dinner, but after someone stupidly suggested they all do tequila shots at 9pm it spiralled into a drunken celebration, and before long they'd found themselves in a seedy karaoke bar in downtown LA, ordering rounds of nauseating shots and singing obtrusively to old songs from their teenage years. Grace recalled Patrick collecting her from the bar at 3am after work, helping her out to the car as she stumbled in her heels. She'd crashed in her bed in a drunken stupor, waking up the following morning with the worst headache she'd ever experienced, like someone had been pounding on her temples with a sledgehammer. "I didn't get out of bed until 3pm," Grace continued. "Thank goodness Patrick was home – I couldn't move for most of the day, so he waited on me hand and foot."

"It was a shame he couldn't come."

"Yeah it was, but you know what his schedule is like. He couldn't miss their night shoot – it'd been planned for weeks. Did Sam enjoy himself though?"

"He did," Emma said with a light laugh. "Although turning forty didn't agree with him either. He was so unwell. I guess none of us are quite as young as we wished we were. But hey, I couldn't help but notice that you and Charlie were getting on well again."

Grace nodded. "Yeah. He was a bit standoffish initially, but by the end of the night he seemed a lot happier. I spoke to him about that text he sent me while I was in New York too. He was drunk, like I thought."

Emma rolled her eyes. "I knew it Grace! God, what is he up to?"

"Nothing I hope. He assured me that he didn't mean anything by it and I hope that's the truth."

"And what did Patrick have to say about it all?"

"I haven't brought it up again since New York. He has this theory that Charlie wants to be more than just friends and I know he's a bit jealous, so I'm keen to stay away from that subject at the moment."

"Fair enough. Ooh, hey, what about this one Grace?" Emma said, pointing to a teal-green lace dress sitting elegantly on a mannequin in the boutique shop window.

"Yeah right, look at the price," Grace said, stopping to take a closer look at the four figure price tag.

Emma yanked her arm and led her into the shop. "Come on. You're trying it on."

Once inside they were greeted suspiciously by a young sales assistant. She looked about thirty years old and was dressed impeccably, looking Grace and Emma over from head to toe, perhaps trying to determine if they had enough money to even breathe the air within her shop.