“Talk soon,” he agreed. “Tell your boyfriend I said hi.”

“Tell him yourself, you big perv.” Eden hung up, laughing at the two of them. She was right. She and Francis weren’t a match. She needed a big, Scottish ginger with hands like sandpaper and the world’s most talented tongue. Francis needed a woman to put him in a dog collar and march him around a German sex club. Her phone buzzed. Looking down, the smile melted from her face.

Eden, you’re being rude even by your standards. Thank your sister for including you in her wedding party then call to discuss details.

Eden stared at that message for a very long time. Then she called Cheryl. “Hi, are you free?”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“Can you please take me to my parents’ place?”

“Right now?”

“Yeah, if you can. I’ll pay for petrol.”

Cheryl laughed. “Don’t be stupid, I’ll come get you. Did you sign the contract?”

“I did.”

“Excellent!”

“Yeah, I’m glad it’s done. Also, I’m getting my driver’s licence. When we’re done with the tour, I’ll buy a car. That’ll force me to follow through.”

Cheryl paused. “What’s got into you, George?”

“Life. I’ll see you soon, Bernie.”

Eden put on her pink pleather pants and a sequinned bra top. She did her make up like she was going on stage: frosted shadow and thick black lashes. Cheryl was at her apartment in fifteen minutes. When she came downstairs, Cheryl whistled. “Looking good, Georgie. But aren’t we going to see your folks?”

“We sure are.” Eden climbed into her car and hugged Cheryl tightly. “Thank you for everything.”

Cheryl frowned. “Again, what’s got into you?”

“Just realising how much I love the people in my life and wanting to show them.”

“Right. I can live with that.”

Eden settled into the passenger seat, pulling the strap across her chest. “Let’s go, Bernie. I have scores to settle.”

Cheryl pointed to her speakers. “Then you know what needs to go on.”

Eden connected to her Bluetooth and hit play on Taylor Swift’s ‘Reputation.’ It was the most criticised, least commercially successful  of all T-Swizzle’s albums, but she and Cheryl loved it. ‘End Game’ blasted out and despite her sickening nerves, Eden smiled. “Ready, bestie?”

“Let’s go.”

Cheryl pulled away from her apartment and they sang the whole way to her parents’ house. As they pulled up to the gate, Cheryl turned down the volume on ‘Delicate.’ “Should I drop you off and come back?”

Eden shook her head. “Could you wait? I promise it won’t take long.”

Cheryl looked at her, secretive and beautiful. She wasn’t the kind of friend who asked for details, but she was always there. She reached into her dash and pulled out another cigarette. “Are you sure you want to do this, George?”

“I am. Wish me luck?”