I can honestly say that if I had been asked to make a list of the things I thought I would be doing the weekend of my best friendās birthday, the phrase āhiding in the cramped little closet under the stairs with her older brotherā would not have been on the list. Though, to be fair, I did a lot of things that weekend that I had never expected to do.
At first, finding myself stuck in there was nothing short of a nightmare and about as far from my idea of fun as it was possible to be.
For a start it was stupid. As a twenty-two-year-old woman I had long assumed that my āHide and Go Seekā days were behind me, but when Charlotteās new boyfriend had drunkenly suggested that we play, with a level of enthusiasm only usually seen in puppies, I was surprised to find that the others took him up on the idea. He kept insisting āItāll be funā and with all other voices in agreement it was impossible to say no. Or at least, it was impossible for Charlotte to say no. It was far more possible for me and I would happily have refused and remained as I was: wine in hand and comfortable on the sofa. Unfortunately, Charlotte, loved up and eager to impress, had herself been impressed by the nostalgia of the idea and had gone along with it as if it was the greatest suggestion ever made. Once she agreed there was no refusing, after all she was the Birthday Girl.
Still I did try. Before she could start to take my...
