twenty-eight
There was a rainbow arching its colourful trails above them as they left the hotel. They skipped in fresh puddles, soaking their feet and lower legs. A car slowed down at the kerbside, the driver asking where they were going.
“You want to come to a party?” The spiky-haired man had an accent and a Dutch football t-shirt to match.
“No thanks!” Shelly shouted, stretching her arms wide. “This is my hen night. I’m getting married in two days’ time.”
“Lucky guy,” the man replied, before winking and zooming away in a cloud of smoke.
“We need to eat,” said Marian, tucking her arm through the crook of her sister’s. “I’ve booked us a lovely table and you might get a surprise or three.”
“Huh?” Shelly looked at her with suspicious eyes. “What have you done?”
“Wait and see,” M
