Chapter 28
28
TRAINERS, SLIPPERS AND CROCS, OH MY!
‘I am absolutely pooped,’ Laura says, flopping down on the sofa bed. ‘Between the sea air and all this activity my body doesn’t know what’s hit it.’
I know exactly what she means. I ache in places I forgot I had. My skin feels scrubbed raw by the salty sea water. My soul feels scrubbed raw by all the introspection. My face is windblown. My arms ache from all the scarf waving and goddess finding. I could lie down right now on this bed and be asleep within seconds. I don’t even think I’d have to close my eyes before unconsciousness took over. In fact, I’m that tired I’m not actually sure if I’m awake at all right now and not just dreaming all of this.
‘Well, you girls better get a Red Bull or something down your neck because the night is young and you absolutely cannot nope out of the silent disco,’ Niamh says, searching through her weekend bag until she finds her ‘All Panic, No Disco’ T-shirt. ‘I’ve been looking forward to this in the way you complete madzers had been looking forward to the sea swimming and the goddess hunting, and if I had to do those for you, then you have to do this for me.’
I groan. My feet cramp in protest. ‘Really? But I’m tired! Surely you can just pop in your earbuds and dance here? Laura and I will sleep and you can go for your life.’
It’s always worth testing the waters with Niamh. There’s always the chance she’ll surprise you. For example, she could just as easily turn around now and say, ‘You know what? I never thought of that! By jiminy, I think I’ll give that a go and have a jolly good time!’
Of course, that’s not what she says. ‘You owe me. You made me worry about whether or not I was going to have to flash my fandango…’
‘Vulva!’ Laura says, in her best teasing voice, hoisting Niamh by her own petard. ‘Mrs Cassidy, you’re a science teacher, you should be using the proper anatomical terms!’
‘You’re absolutely right,’ Niamh replies. ‘I’m sorry. I should be using the correct anatomical terms and I will do so going forward. So when I tell you that you are risking a kick up the rectum, you’ll know exactly what I mean!’ She sticks her tongue out, thankfully proving she is only teasing too and I’m not going to have pull them apart from a cat fight in the very near future.
‘But that aside – girls, come on!’ Niamh pleads. ‘It’s Saturday night. I have my disco T-shirt. There are no children nearby. No adult responsibilities. There’s just the chance to let our hair down a little and enjoy the silent disco. I’ve always wanted to try one!’
The concept is fun, I suppose. Everyone wearing earphones, simultaneously listening to the same music and having a boogie. Or if the playlist isn’t to your liking, you press a button and move on to something else. They could be breaking it down to ‘Bootylicious’ while you are enjoying the Nolan Sisters sing about being in the mood for dancing, and nobody needs to know.
Everyone’s happy. The neighbours – in this case the sheep in the nearby field – aren’t troubled by noise pollution and you get to dance without judgement. What could be better than that?
Except some sleep, I suppose.
‘Can I wear my trainers though?’ I ask. ‘Because there’s no way I’m putting on my heels.’
‘I’m wearing my Crocs,’ Niamh says. ‘And I don’t give a damn what anyone says, because they’re comfy.’
‘Do you think I could wear my slippers?’ Laura asks, glancing down to her feet where she is already wearing her pink fluffy mules.
‘I think you can wear whatever you want. Whatever makes you comfortable. Peggy said she doesn’t care if we land in our pyjamas if that’s what floats our boats.’
Oooh… the thought of having a dance in my slippers and jammies does sound appealing. A quick boogie then back home and straight to bed. Perfect!
‘Grand so,’ Laura says. ‘I’ll wear my slippers and my joggers.’
‘Good woman!’ Niamh says, turning her gaze towards me. ‘And you? Becs? Come on! Say you will! Even for a couple of songs? We don’t have to go crazy but we’d be raging if we missed it altogether.’
She has a point. This is our last night here – and even though we have packed as much as possible into the day, it does feel as if we would be letting the side down to disappear.
‘Okay then,’ I tell Niamh, to a whoop of delight.
‘Comfy shoes to the ready! Write that in your column for Northern People . Let’s normalise comfy footwear! Heels are gorgeous and all, but dear God, life is tough enough without feeling as if the balls of your feet are ablaze by the end of the night. Not to mention I’m pretty sure the heels I wore in my twenties are the reason my knee is absolutely fecked now.’
‘Noted,’ I say with a smile. ‘I’m on it! Comfy shoes and elasticated waists for the win!’
‘You get my vote,’ Laura says, as she hauls herself back to a sitting position and raises an imaginary glass to us both. ‘That and celebrating the beauty of a good cardigan.’
‘I do love a cardigan,’ I agree, as I start looking through my limited selection of clothes to decide what to wear.