The Bucket List to Mend a Broken Heart Read Online Free Page B

completely different Abi from the tear-stained mess I left on Thursday night,’ she says, shaking her head, her mouth still hanging open. ‘You look bloody amazing.’
    ‘Thanks. It’s nicenot to be told I look like shit.’
    She’s been saying that to me so much lately that it has almost become her catchphrase.
    ‘You know I only told you that because I love you and I wanted you to crawl out from the rock you were hiding under, and see, now you have.’
    I smile with a little bit of pride.
    ‘So shall we go for a coffee?’ I say.
    ‘Oh no, we’re going shopping. Hair like that deserves newclothes.’
    ‘I don’t know . . .’ I say, prodding my belly. I wanted to lose the extra break-up pounds before I bought any new clothes.
    ‘Nonsense. Come on.’
    Sian turns and walks straight into the department store and makes a beeline for Womenswear. She’s like a woman on a mission as she flicks through the rails of clothes, holding up dresses here and there in my direction, before wrinkling hernose and returning them to the rack.
    ‘So what happened?’ she asks as she starts piling items over her arm. ‘I’ve been trying for weeks to get you to leave the house, and not only do you agree to meet me in town, but you also turn up looking like a model.’
    ‘Ha, a model in need of a lot of airbrushing,’ I say, shuddering at the thought of yesterday’s photo shoot. Sian looks back at me expectantlyas if I haven’t answered her question. ‘I was feeling pretty crap as I’d had my photo taken at work and I looked awful. Then I walked into my flat and saw how gross it had become. And then it hit me that my flat was a reflection of me. So I felt like I needed to take matters into my own hands and I chopped my hair and spent the rest of the night cleaning.’
    ‘Wow, so you don’t need a biohazardsymbol on your door any more?’
    ‘Very funny.’
    I’d love to protest that it wasn’t that bad, but it really was.
    ‘Well,’ she says, ‘I’m glad as I was going to don my Marigolds and head over with a bottle of Cillit Bang.’
    Blimey, that would have been proof of true friendship. I wouldn’t have wished last night’s cleaning on my worst enemy.
    I watch as she throws a dress that is breaching the TradeDescriptions Act as it’s short enough to be a top over her arm.
    ‘Try these on,’ she says, thrusting the pile of garments at me.
    I take them and walk towards the fitting room, managing to lose the top masquerading as a dress along the way. There’s no way that even Sian’s persuasive skills would have been able to get me and my tree trunk thighs to wear that.
    I try the first dress on and standback to look at myself for a moment before opening the curtain and allowing her to see.
    ‘That looks all right,’ she says. ‘But try one of the others on.’
    I do as I’m told, and after putting a metallic body-con dress to one side – that ain’t ever going to happen – I settle on an electric-blue skater dress instead. At least it covers my bum and the skirt juts out, hiding my thighs.
    ‘That’s theone,’ says Sian, before I’ve barely made it out of the cubicle. ‘That’ll be perfect for going out for a few drinks tonight.’
    ‘Tonight? I’m still not sure I’m ready to go out,’ I say as I shut the curtain and slip the dress off.
    ‘With that dress, your new haircut and a bottle of wine, you’ll feel differently. We’ll go back to yours and shove some tunes on to get you in the mood.’
    I slip my jeansand baggy jumper back on, and wonder if I could face going out.
    I pay for the dress and we leave the shop, walking in the direction of my flat.
    ‘Look at the difference forty-eight hours makes,’ says Sian as we walk away from the High Street, and the shops give way to letting agents and restaurants.
    ‘I know. I’m beginning to feel a bit more like the old me.’
    ‘That’s good, I’ve missed her.’
    The closer we get to the flat, the closer we are to the seafront and