It was 3pm on Friday, and I had that real Friday feeling just rushing through my veins. The weekend I’d been planning for months had arrived, and I only had two hours to wait then I was on my way to see my ladies. Three of my best friends were travelling all the way from good ol’ Welsh Wales to the Big Smoke for a visit. It wasn’t only the first time they were visiting me in my three years in Londinium but the first time we were going to be together for as long as I can remember, I couldn’t wait!
With the speed of a child at the school bell I ran out the doors of my pub, where I’m Assistant Manager, bid the guys a good night with a smug look on my face as the pub busied up, and I was off. I got to my sisters where we were meeting and waited for their imminent arrival! What I didn’t realise, my friend Leah was driving. To someone who doesn’t know Leah this can be confusing. You’ve heard of the phrase “You’ll be late for your own funeral”. This was written with Leah in mind. We have been Bezzies for 15 years, and in all that time she has not only never been on time for anything, but never been less than two hours late for anything! So once again me and my sister Gemma waited. The
majority of the bloody night we waited!
Busying ourselves with Gemma’s new baby, wine and fake bake, eventually they arrived. We squealed, delighted, reminisced about the good old days like good old friends do, and drunk champagne and wine. Like Welsh girls do! Before we knew it we were girlied out, and it was time for bed. Little did we know another guest had decided to join the party!
From downstairs I heard Hayley and Leah scream and scarper across the landing into mine and Nicola’s bedroom. I ran tearing up the stairs and straight into their room. I ran into the room where I was smacked in the face by a bat! I couldn’t have been more surprised if Tony Montana stood there with a baseball bat in his hand to beat me to death. This was a real, living breathing, nocturnal, what the hell are you doing in my sister’s house, BAT!
Like I said there were four girls. So like any girls in a high adrenaline situation we let our instincts take over and did what came naturally to defend ourselves from this creature of the night. We screamed. Then we screamed some more. Then Gemma came running and she screamed. Then the baby screamed. We turned to Steve my sister’s husband to come and save the day. He came bounding up the stairs, ready to defend us like any Alpha Male when his home is threatened, and opened the door where the fanged beast was, and you guessed it. He screamed! Hope was lost.
So the situation was, he was in there and we were in the hall.
No one dared open the door. Time ticked on, and for all we knew the little shit could have been redecorating in there. It was obvious that none of us were willing to take the plunge and take that bastard out. Someone had to do something. I don’t know if it was our friends in peril, my nephew in danger, or just the buzz of the wine and champagne but before I knew it me and Hayley were dressed top to toe in hoodies and jogging bottoms. Ready for battle. With baseball hats on, and jumpers tied around our faces to protect us (not looking too far from the riot photos on the news!) we were ready to go in. All we needed was a game plan. Go in covertly and take him out peacefully. Or actual plan, run in, throw something at it then shoo it out the window. We knew it was going to be a team effort!
We flew in threw the towel, and it darted around the room. Heading right for us. We dove and ducked as it flapped around our heads. Hayley dove onto the bed screaming “Faye please don’t leave me”! I knew then I was on my own. Through my tears, sweat, and I’m not gonna lie, I probably crapped myself a little, I whipped the towel with all my might and sent that daemon straight back to hell. Or through the closest window. As quick as it had begun it was over. We left the room heroes. A little warmer, wired, and with a great story to begin our weekend.
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