Chapter 2: January – There is no bottom
‘OH. GOD. NO. NO! NOOOOOO!!!’
As Hannah awoke to the sound of her own screams on New Year’s Day, all she wanted to do was to crawl up her own rectum and disappear. How on earth was it possible, or even allowed, to be so fucking stupid? Taking in her surroundings (she was not on the couch this time but had actually made it to bed for once); shoes, coat, bag scattered across the room, as well as a bloody traffic cone (what was she, 12?!), she shook her head in disbelief. The shaking of the head summoning an orchestra of bongo drums and crash cymbals in her head, adding to her agony. This ‘no drinking ever again’ schtick sure as hell hadn’t stuck this time either. ‘FAAAARK’, she groaned and pulled the duvet over her head in an attempt to go back to sleep.
Of course, last night’s festivities had been planned. She’d been invited to someone’s party for once, and due to the fact that the other attendees were all a decade younger than her, she’d opted to down an entire bottle of proseccobefore she left the house. Which was the best option, she’d decided, as she was starting to feel a bit fluey. Might as well kill off any bacteria before they started breeding. To add insult to injury, she’d used the bottle to break a 36-hour fast,after a 10-mile run – also taken in a fasted state – which she’d embarked on to decide whether or not she was too ill to go to the party. She’d survived the run, so now she had to woman up and go socialise like a functional human being. She should’ve consulted her magic eightball instead. She’d contemplated staying in and not drinking, keeping up the sober streak, but had decided she didn’t want to start the new year off with any booze in the house, so she might as well go. She’d already made enough enquiries to the host that she was absolutely certain she wouldn’t be the only single person there, so this could actually turn out to be a nice evening. She’d just take it easy on the drink. Tomorrow was a Monday, after all.
She arrived at the party just after five, and she found she was glad she did. Greeted at the door by her new pal Jen’s partner, Justin, she was relieved to see that, a) he – much like herself – didn’t seem too fussed about dressing up as some sort of Met Gala reject either and, b) he seemed to have been out of his nappies for just about as long as she had. And none of the people there were of the breeding kind, so all of that sort of inane small talk would be unnecessary, and they were all there because they had something in common, rather than their kids attending the same nursery, or some equivalent of the latter. It was really nice to not be the odd one out for a change! So, Hannah handed over a bottle of red for the hosts and began to relax. When she was offered a welcome drink, she accepted with a smile, forgetting she had yet to eat, and that dinner was at least an hour – i.e. at least three units – away. Needless to say, the party had been great. Until it wasn’t.
So, what actually happened last night? How did she get home? Had she been asked to leave? She vaguely recalled trying to pull one of Jen’s female friends – drunk Hannah wasn’t one to discriminate – after not getting anywhere with the boyfriend. Whether that had been before or after they had gone outside to