Read Coconuts and Wonderbras for Free Online Page A

see him looking at me with that arrogant smile on his face. He really manages to make me feel quite ridiculous, and feeling ridiculous is something I do very well without anyone helping me thank you.
        ‘That’s fattening,’ remarks Toby, snatching the dish from Alex.
    He is quite right of course. In fact, the whole dinner is full of sodding calories, but did he have to really make the point in front of everyone? I wish I could crawl home to my little cottage with a cheap bottle of wine and a box of Toblerone and not be a part of this debacle.
        ‘How about fifty quid,’ bellows Miles. There is silence and all eyes are on Miles. Well, it makes a change from all eyes on me.
        ‘In the shoebox, put fifty quid in each one. Surely dosh is the best thing. You can’t send over a shoebox of rice, what!’
    What, indeed.
        ‘Honestly, how naïve,’ mumbles Toby, but Alex Bryant, who evidently has bionic ears, hears him.
        ‘With all due respect, it is no more naïve than your article, which apart from the outstanding paragraph on the futility of war, was really very lame and lacked substance.’
        ‘Didn’t you write that bit Libby?’ chips in Issy gaily.
    Toby shoots me a murderous look.
        ‘She just tidied up some errors,’ snarls Toby.
    Alex squints at me. Oh dear, now my life will not be worth living.
        ‘I wasn’t aware you contributed to the article,’ says Bryant, studying me.
        ‘Why did you have to open your big mouth,’ Toby snaps at Issy.
    I feel quite inclined to ask Bryant the same question. It is at this point in the proceedings that I decide to take up smoking. Not literally you understand. I just need to make my escape and get out of the hall.
        ‘Just going out for a ciggie,’ I mumble, scraping back my chair.
        ‘What!’ Issy exclaims.
    Instead of fresh air, I find myself swallowed up in a whirlpool of blue haze as smokers indulge their habit by the French doors. Driving home for Christmas assaults my ears. I grab two Quality Street from the sweet dish at the doorway. This is turning into the Christmas from hell. How on earth can I propose to Toby in this atmosphere? I cough and splutter my way through the haze until I reach fresh air. I smooth down my dress and see to my horror that my tights have ripped. That’s about right. Why is Toby snapping at me so much? Is it my fault Alex sodding Bryant is on our table? I sit on the courtyard bench for a while and compose myself. I turn to head back and then I see them . How I didn’t hear them before is beyond me as she has a laugh like a foghorn. I am frozen to the spot and stare at them as if hypnotised. As if in slow motion, she turns, flicking her hair from her face and leans back so he has to hold her tighter. She throws herself forward and kisses him passionately on the lips before she sees me. It is Serena Lambert, the daughter of Toby’s boss, and she is kissing my boyfriend by the Christmas tree in his new starched shirt. Stop thinking about his starched shirt, you mad bitch. Jesus, this is the worst moment of my life and I’m worried about his new shirt. Christ. Serena’s shocked expression must reflect my own. If there had been a knife nearby I swear I don’t know who I would have stabbed first. Okay, I am probably hysterical, and don’t know what the hell I am thinking. Serena Lambert and my boyfriend kissing, surely I should stab him first. Oh damn it, it is probably easier to stab myself and be done with it.
        ‘Libby,’ squeals Serena pushing past the Christmas tree and plonking herself in front of me. Sparkly tinsel from the tree is now attached to her static lacquered hair making her look a bit like a Christmas Barbie doll. All the same, she is a slim Barbie doll. Compared to her I look like a fat Womble.
        ‘Isn’t it just a fantabulous party? I was just saying to Toby, isn’t it a fantabulous party.’ She squeaks much too shrilly while