But even if I did, she would still have talked through it. She knows how fucked up I am.”“Maybe she didn’t know you were that fucked up.”“Sh... would have called me on my shit. And we would have gotten through it.”“Okay. Maybe it’s not that, but it’s still on you.”“Why?”“Because, at Nigella’s funeral, she really needed to talk to you. But instead you got so fucked up, you couldn’t talk.”“It was Nige’s funeral.”“So? Did she ask you to stay sober?”“I said I’d need a couple, but yeah.”“And when a. Elkie didn't bother with the dressing room, heading straight to the exit, where the limo would be waiting. She'd already planned her own after party fun. She slammed the side door open, the cold evening air chilling her. She shivered, waiting impatiently for the driver to open the door for her. She'd worked hard to get here, let the fucker do his job, I've done mine was her attitude. She slid into the car, taking a bottle of water from the mini-bar, gulping down the contents as the limo glided. More

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