the girl in the yellow dress - part 7

Clare was still up when Alice crept back to the flat, asleep on the sofa surrounded by an antique lace and tartan creation she was in the process of hemming.

“Oi sleeping beauty, don’t you have a bed to go to?” Alice said as she carefully removed the needle from Clare’s sleepy fingers.

“What?” Clare retorted dozily catching her arm on a pin as she stretched. “Ow!” The scratch brought her to her senses; she focused her bleary eyes on the girl in the yellow dress in front of her.

“The ball!” She screeched, “How was it?”

Alice had to laugh at her flatmate. “Shall I make us some cocoa, you can tidy up in here and I’ll tell you all about it.”

Clare lifted the dress off her lap, dropped it in a heap besides the sofa and followed Alice into the tiny kitchen.

Alice switched the kettle on and searched for some clean mugs, “Thought it was your turn to wash up! You said you’d do it tonight.”

“Got distracted, any way never mind that,” Clare cleared enough space on the counter top pushing dirty plates to the side and had hauled herself up ready to listen. “How was your evening?”

“Well Sebastian forgot to tell me it was a black and white ball.” Alice had her hands in the sink by this point.

“No! That’s unforgiveable. I told you he was no good for you. His type only thinks of themselves, but you’ve only just got home at, what is the time? 3 a.m. Can’t have all been bad.” A new thought occurred to her. “Did you meet someone else there? And does he have a friend?”

Alice turned around and flicked a large handful of washing up bubbles over Clare to shut her up for a minute and proceeded to make two mugs of cocoa.

.

She carried them back to the lounge, Clare followed grabbing the biscuit tin on the way.

“You’re being very coy. You did have a good time didn’t you?”

With her hands wrapped round her mug Alice suddenly wanted to keep all the good feelings from the evening inside. She nodded, in the end she had had an amazing time but Sebastian was still a bit of a mystery to her and she wasn’t quite ready to share him yet even with her best friend.

Clare knew not to push so asked her other burning question. “The yellow dress? Was it a hit? Maybe you should have worn something more conventional, a little back number instead?”

“Honestly the dress was the star of the evening.”

She put her mug on the table and from one end of their squashy sofa to the other she opened up and told Clare about the waiter comparing the colour of the dress to “champagne”, Melanie, just how haughty and annoying she was, the lovely Edgar and then answered endless questions about what everyone was wearing.

It was almost five in the morning by the time Alice was finally curled up in bed, she gazed at her dress, hung up on her wardrobe door and blissfully fell asleep.