.....useless, completely useless. How was I going to get any sense out of this lot? Bunch of pissed-up harpies with more Pimms on board than was legal. A usual state of affairs for the Gin Co-op, I have to say, but one that I was reluctant to join in with. I had something on my mind.
"So what's up Minx?" Demanda cackled, spilling her dregs into the tub and fishing around for the escaping lemon slices. She came up with Demoana's bikini top which elicited another round of coven cackling.
"Yeah wassup babe, you're quiet" Dementia asked with the careful speech of one who is trying to appear less pissed than she is. It wasn't working, she was newtish and unlikely to recover until well past midnight, if at all. She was well known for kipping anywhere the fancy took, even the odd bath.
I should have put it to them sooner, before the alcohol and hot water had mushed their brains into an irretrievable cell-less soup. I should have pinned them down before they could hardly put two words together and before Dementia had turned the water temperature up to near boiling point with a mis-placed hip.
"You know you can tell us, have another drink" Delilah slurred. She had only finished work the day before and was making up for lost holiday time by downing half a jug in less than ten minutes. She had mint leaves stuck on her cheek and her hair was held up in a 'hot tub bun' with a couple of plastic pegs. How could I take her seriously, any of them?
I have known most of these women for nearly half a century. We have shared births, deaths, marriage breakdowns, mental breakdowns and all the crap that life has thrown at us. They are my drinking buddies, my miserable bitches, my laugh-till-you-pee-your-pants gang, my soul sisters. They are friends above and beyond the call of duty, but today they were too slaughtered to do more than drown in a very expensive spa.
They are intelligent women as well, professional, witty and clever but now they were breaking open the Cava and Cassis. I was doomed.
"So, what is it? Demoana asked, slurping a hefty dose of fizzy wine into my already half-full Pimms glass "you are not quite your Minxy self are you. Oh my God, you're not pregnant are you?"
This brought forth a horrified silence that lasted for about two seconds until they remembered that we had all been neutered at around the same time. This sobering break seemed like a good time to ask them.
" No, well, I, umm, wondered what you thought about...."
I told them my dilemma then sat back and refilled my glass. They looked at one another through a haze of steam as the bubbles died away, leaving an awkward silence that no one knew how to fill.
"I've asked some other people but they have all said make your own mind up Minx, it's your choice"
"Well, I see it like this Minx" Dementia said with a lewd wink" if you want to 'pee ohh dee' with a Skint Welshman then I think you should go ahead and do it, we won't tell anyone, we're your friends and we should all try something new once in our lives" they all nodded "what is podding anyway, does it hurt?"
So I'm sorry Skint, me girls have sort of given their approval. I shall hand over one of me babies for your perusal - after all what have I got to lose? Obviously not me pride!!