Stealing the Limelight

'The problem with me an Aperol spritz is the first time I ever drank it it was in Italy and it was the best spritz on the planet, ever since then I just can’t find one as good, even in Britain they don't do it as well.' Lucy said. 

Kayleigh rolled her eyes, she couldn't say anything without Lucy comparing it to the best version available which of course she had had somewhere at sometime. Kayleigh bought new shoes, Lucy had a better version, Kayleigh heard a new song, Lucy had heard the demo of it, Kayleigh booked a holiday, Lucy had been there, seen it, got the t-shirt. Kayleigh thought that if she’d announced she’d had a shit that morning, Lucy would say she’d had two. Lucy was a limelight stealer, an attention thief, a classic two shits and it was getting right on Kayleigh’s tits. The problem wasn’t that Kayleigh wanted the limelight, she didn’t mind lurking in the shadows, but somehow Lucy’s bragging managed to take the gloss off anything Kayleigh did, making her things just slightly disappointing. It wasn’t like Lucy had earned her success, she’d married for money and milked it for every drop; ostentatious became her middle name, pretentious was her trademark, she was the I in team.

Kayleigh sipped at her bright orange drink slightly disappointed that it wasn’t as good as it could have been. She was listening to Lucy droning on about someone who had not treated her with the respect she’d deserved.

‘I mean, I can’t believe it, she didn’t even ask me where I bought my shoes from. She just said a quick hello and then moved on. I mean I wouldn’t mind if she was like that with everyone but I saw her later in the evening laughing with Maria Todd. Why would she prefer talking to Maria over me?’

Kayleigh zoned out and began thinking of her trip to Spain with Greg, she had the feeling he was going to propose and when he did, she knew exactly what the answer would be.

Two weeks later Kayleigh was smiling from ear to ear, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this happy on a Monday. Who said romance was dead? Greg had taken her on a weekend trip to San Sebastian, where they’d eaten and drunk like royalty and as the sun was setting across the bay, Greg had indeed popped the question. With the backdrop of orange streaked clouds and the background of waves crashing into the rocks she’d said yes, yes, yes and he’d slipped a beautiful diamond on to her finger.

She couldn’t wait to tell the girls down the pub, even Lucy would have to take a back seat and listen for once. But the mood in the pub couldn’t have been more at odds with the dopey great smile on Kayleigh’s face. Tear-filled tissues lay strewn on the tables, sniffs and snivels filled the air, heads were in hands and disbelief was etched on faces. It was a grotesque picture of woe and it wasn’t the time for Kayleigh’s good news.

‘What’s wrong?’ she said.

‘It’s Lucy,’ Jemima sniffed, ‘haven’t you heard?’

It had to be bloody Lucy.

‘I’ve been away’ Kayleigh said, trying not to betray her anger.

‘She’s dead!’ Jemima wailed.  A new round of tears started and noses were blown in unison.

‘She’d been sleeping with John McDee, her husband caught them in bed together, he shot the both of them and then turned his gun on himself.’ Shayla managed to say through the sobs.

Kayleigh sat down and put her head in her hands, she managed to fool her friends she was stricken with grief but she was cursing the two shits, even in death Lucy had managed to steal Kayleigh’s thunder.  But then Kayleigh smiled, at least she wouldn’t have to invite Lucy to the wedding.