The Hostess with the Mostess

‘Richard, I told you I wanted to leave half an hour ago,’ she snapped, her angry eyes screamed at him.

‘It’s too rude, we can’t just leave,’ he hissed through gritted teeth. God, she was selfish.

‘They’ll be back in a minute, let’s just make an excuse and go,’ she pleaded, her voice whiny and nagging like a toddler on the edge of a tantrum. He hated that. He rolled his eyes. She was causing problems. Again.

‘Look, I’m bored of Adele fawning over you and I’m fed up of Martin’s apologetic eyes. And I am bloody sick of you happily lapping it all up and not having the balls to leave,’she practically spat out the last few words. She caught her breath, shocked at just how irate she had become. Smoothing down her black silk dress, she looked at Richard.

‘I’m not doing this again Naomi. Not the Adele thing. It’s all in your head. I’ve known her for, what, fourteen years? I am not apologising for having a conversation. Grow up!’ He knew he was in for it now.

Naomi felt her head spinning and her enraged heart thumped in her chest.
‘Don’t you dare twist all this back on me!’ She sneered. ‘We both know you’ve slept with her,’ she struggled to contain the volume of her voice.

His body jerked as though she had slapped him. ‘What the Hell are you talking about? You’re mad!’ His voice a low, rumbling growl, his eyes wide in disbelief.

‘You’ve known her fourteen years? How many of those have you spent between her legs?’ Oh God, her mouth just kept opening and words fired out at will like a machine gun. She’d actually surprised herself at that attack. Is that what she genuinely believed or were the several gins adding their skewed opinion?

His eyes seared her flesh, his hands trembling with pent up rage. He looked as though he wished to harm her but then the door opened. In came Adele and Martin, all hustle and bustle, faux cheer and homemade wine.

‘Anyone still hungry?’ Adele’s voice chimed, smiling with her whiter than white teeth.

An awkward silence filled the air as Naomi and Richard lost the will to continue the charade.

‘We’re going to have to leave I’m afraid,’ he cleared his throat. ‘Naomi’s a little ..... sick,’ his smile fooled nobody. They all picked up on his vicious connotation.

‘Oh I’m sorry to hear that Naomi. Of course, if you’re unwell you must get yourself home,’ Adele twinkled, shimmered and shined, the perfect hostess.
Coats were collected, apologies made. Richard called a taxi. Pointless pretence ensued for a further ten minutes. They were almost home when Richard sent his text.

Adele, I think she knows. Obviously I’ve denied everything. See you Monday xxx