Yesterday I did something terrible. I tried to make a good impression, believe me I did. I pulled out my most conservative Sunday outfit; the only top I own with no profanities printed across the chest and a pair of brand spanking new black leggings. Rich told me I wasn't dressed right for the occasion. 

“It’s thirty degrees out, you’ll be far too hot,” he’d said. 

Snug, I’d thought as I tried to wiggle my size twenty-eight thighs into them, but there wasn't enough time to change. His mother frowns upon tardiness, he had mentioned this at least five times that morning. 

So, at one o’clock sharp, we arrived as planned, even if a little perspired. Rich had insisted on parking two streets away, so his parents didn't see the clapped out old banger he drives around in. His mother thinks he has a well paid job in the city. He does work in London, that much is true, but as a Cashier for that little Tesco Metro in Bethnal Green. Not quite the high-flying bankers job she thinks her precious son scored when he moved to the big city. 

His mother answered the door after only one knock, dressed in a pink tweed two-piece. The bow tied around the silk collar of her crisp white blouse was tight up against her neck. I presumed, to stop the sixty-some years of piled up wrinkles from rolling out like a battered old carpet.

“Richard, darling.” She said, welcoming him with a warm smile.

As she stepped forward onto the porch a pint-sized, yapping Chihuahua bolted out of the front door. It headed straight for me and started snapping at my ankles. I lifted my leg to try and shake the vicious little thing off. His mother bent down. 

“Careful with my Eddie! … Come here my little angel.” She said, scooping him up into her arms. She made kissing noises in the air and continued to talk to him like a baby. “My precious little boy, oh yes you are, mummy loves you!” 

She let the dog slobber all over her face, not flinching when his tongue flicked inside her mouth. I swallowed back a little bit of sick as she turned her gaze to me. The warmth she’d greeted Rich with immediately drained from her eyes, casting a blizzard up my spine. I froze as she looked me up and back down again, pausing when she reached my chest. Eddie bared his teeth, growling in my direction. 

“Charmed, I’m sure.” She finally said, to my chest, before turning on her heel and disappearing inside the house. 

I could only guess she didn’t care much for the ‘Jason Mask and Chainsaw’ motif sprawled across my T-shirt. 

Inside, it didn't take long for things to go from bad to worse. The compulsory double vodka dutch-courage I downed before hopping into the car had gone straight through me. Rich pointed to the top of the stairs and told me to hurry. I hadn’t met his dad yet who was busy in the kitchen, and his mother didn’t want me to hold up the serving of lunch. 

The washroom was poky and the toilet itself seemed smaller than your average. Strange I thought, for such an extravagant house. Perhaps it was just the guest bathroom, and the real deal was hidden away solely for his parents’ luxury. A big girl like me has trouble sitting down on a toilet wedged in a tight gap between a sink and a wall. 

I was about ready to burst at this point, so I yanked at my leggings as I danced from foot to foot on the spot. Still sweating, the lycra stuck to my skin. I started to peel them off inch by inch, the same way I peel my Drumstick lollies; careful not to rip the wrapping, but it was taking too long. 

I felt a slight trickle between my legs. Luckily, I’ve been practising my pelvic floor exercises and managed to squeeze back the full flow. I held it there just long enough to get my leggings down to my ankles. I glanced again at the small space my backside needed to fit. It wasn’t going to happen. Looking around I panicked, my thighs quivering from the clench, I could see only one option...

As I relieved myself, I heard the horrifying crack. Dismounting the sink, I took the whole immaculate white porcelain basin with me. Together, with an almighty crash, we hit the floor. Water fountained out of the exposed pipes where the sink had ripped off the wall. The taps were mocking me, their tears of laughter leaving me in a soggy puddle, my leggings still around my ankles. 

Of course, someone came running. Thank God it was only Rich! I don’t know what I would’ve done if it had been his mother. Panicked by the unavoidable confession to his parents, I lied about how it happened. I told him I’d slipped and grabbed onto the sink to stop myself from falling. He’s a bit dense my Rich, bless him. He was sweet about it, and told me he’d take the brunt. 

After a less than dignified struggle to pull my leggings back up over my sticky legs, I skulked back down the stairs using Rich as a shield. His mother stood waiting for us at the bottom, rigid as an old police ma’am. I could feel her stony eyes pierce my every move.

“What on earth was that ruckus?” she said through pursed lips, folding her arms and craning her neck in my direction. “And why does your ‘friend’ look like she’s just swam the English Channel?” 

I opened my mouth to speak, but she’d terrified me into silence. I gave Rich a discreet shove in the back of the ribs prompting him to talk. 

“Erm … You better come up, there’s been a slight incident” he said. 

Rich and his mother hurried upstairs as I made my way into the living room, feet squelching with every step. I fell backwards, allowing the sofa to take the full weight of my embarrassment. A second later I heard a shriek: 

“Michael, get the wrench!” 

I watched as his dad skid passed the doorway with an apron around his waist and a red toolbox in his hand. Listening to the sound of his footsteps disappear up the stairs, I thought about making my escape, but I couldn’t do that to Rich. Instead I just sat there, conscious of the wet pools that were forming in the carpet at my feet. 

After what felt like forever, the three of them came back downstairs and entered the living room.  

“Right,” his mother said, “now that disaster is averted, for now at least.” She cast her pebble eyes at me. “Let’s hope lunch isn’t ruined!” 

His dad threw a kind-hearted smile in my direction and nodded before retreating back into the safety of the kitchen. 

“Now, where’s my little Eddie? ... Eddie? … Edd-ieeeee?” 

Funny I thought, I hadn’t seen him since I’d come back downstairs. I stood up to help search for him. Casting her eyes to the crater I’d left, his mother gasped in horror. I turned around to see what the problem was, and then I saw it. His tiny, brown, lifeless paw sticking out from behind the cushion I’d just been sat on. 

Yesterday was the unfortunate end of Eddie, and of my six-month relationship with Rich. 

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