Second Bite of the Apple

Chapter 28: The Morning After (The Night Before)

Chapter 28: The Morning After (The Night Before)

I woke up to the sound of a klaxon alarm, loud enough to be an air raid siren. My immediate reaction was to drag the pillow from beneath me and clamp it down over my head. Why wasn't the noise stopping? I could feel it boring into my skull like a drill. Somebody was shaking me, attempting to prise the pillow from my clutches. I tried to dislodge the hand from my shoulder and gave a disgruntled groan, indicating that I needed a good few more hours in bed before I could face the light of day.

"Sian, you need to get up! We're going to be late!" Laura's urgent tone pierced my eardrums.

"Get off me," I mumbled into the pillow, hoping she'd leave me alone.

No such luck. Laura's strong grip ripped the pillow from my hands, leaving me to be blinded by the sunlight streaming in through the window. I threw my hands over my face trying to shield myself from the burn like a vampire. Just those few words were painful. My throat felt like I had swallowed sandpaper, even breathing was a chore.

"Sian, for God's sake, will you please get out of bed!"

My eyelids felt as though somebody had glued them shut but eventually I managed to peel one eye open and peer at Laura. She was fully dressed in waistcoat and trouser combo, with a crisp white shirt. I noticed her make up was a little heavier than usual, especially around the eyes, presumably to hide the effects of last night. I managed to drag myself up on to my elbow and saw the clock read 7:45am. Why on earth was Laura up at this time? She couldn't seriously be thinking about going to work after last night?

"Come on!" she insisted, wrenching the duvet from my body.

I made a futile lunge for the sheets but Laura was too quick for me. She chucked a black pencil skirt at me and the black equivalent of her shirt, clearly she was planning to go to work and a day in bed wasn't an option for me either. I tossed the clothes off of me and sat up, my head still pounding. As I stood up a wave of nausea tore through me. I sprinted into the bathroom, and emptied the contents of my stomach into the toilet. I stayed on the cold stone floor for a few moments, trying to cool down a little and to make sure I wasn't going to be sick again. The faint taste of alcohol, mainly vodka, lingered on my tongue but I seemed to have thrown up the worst of it.

I dressed in silence, trying not to make any sharp or sudden movements. Everything ached from my head to my feet. I still wasn't convinced that the room wasn't spinning and had to keep sitting down on the edge of the bed every few minutes. How the hell did Laura look so perfect and refined whilst I looked like I'd been dragged to hell and back. My eyes were swollen and red, with smudgy black rims and my hair was matted and sticking up at odd angles. I don't think my head could tolerate me attempting to drag a brush through the knots so I settled for scraping my hair back and fixing it into a simple bun with a hair elastic.

Laura had already reached for her bag and was heading for the door, car keys in hand. Her eyes swept over my appearance, lingering slightly on my laddered tights, puffy eyes and half undone blouse, before she left the room. I quickly tucked a few loose strands of hair behind my ears and tried to sort my face out, without much luck. In the end, I had to admit defeat. I just looked like I hadn't slept for a few days and had been crying all night, a look guaranteed to go down well at school. I did up a few more buttons of my shirt, resulting in me now looking like I should be at a funeral.

When I got downstairs Laura was in the kitchen. The smell of coffee assaulted my senses, making me heave a little. Judging by the procession of mugs lined up along the counter, I could tell Laura was now finishing her third cup. I guess that explains how she can be so alert despite the fact she must have only had a few hours sleep and her blood must still be drowning in alcohol.