Sasha told her brother Sonny over the phone that she really wasn't in the mood for Christmas this year.
"I'm just not celebrating," Sasha wasn't even in the mood to talk to him. He was off in London with his own life. He hadn't been home in ages and she suspect he wouldn't since it was best not to discuss his living arrangement with some actor he hooked up with. Sasha knew about it, but she really didn't want to know about it, either.
"Lauren has a girlfriend," Sasha wanted to bite her tongue. She didn't want to talk about that, either. Least of all, she didn't want to mention her engagement to Rhys either. It was all becoming so disappointing. She crumbled in tears but tried to remain calm as she listened to her brother's plans. Things were looking up for him. She knew she had to be happy for him.
"Well, have a good time in Greece, will you," she managed to spit out. "No, I'm just fine. I don't need your help. I can managed." But she wasn't sure she could. She had no idea where Rhys was, nor even if he knew where home was. She'd spent most of the day washing dishes down at the pub. It was her first day and there was nothing for her to do but to clean up. She was tired and little out of it. She hadn't felt like eating, and there was nothing much but the cookies from the housewarming present from Simon and Josh. Really, it was quite pitiful, but it didn't seem to matter at the moment. Sasha finally said her goodbyes and told him she was glad he'd called and that she missed him. She supposed it would be sometime before she saw him again.
She laid down her cell on the kitchen counter then and looked back at the livingroom. Alone again. How had she done this to herself? Gone off with the wrong one, again. Always, her luck. First Fletch and the drugs and everything that went with it. She supposed she could look back and think of Gaspard as quite perfect. Perhaps too perfect, in fact. He was just a faded memory now. Almost.
Sasha picked up her cell again and looked through her contacts. She'd deleted him out complete of her life, yet she still had his sister phone number. She thought might take a chance. They had been friends only through Gaspard. Perhaps she could wish them both a Merry Christmas if nothing else.
"Hullo," Francisca sounded so foreign with her French accent, "Is it really you, Sasha?"
"I've been looking for you." Francisca then said. "I'm here in the village, even."
"You are?" Sasha was surprised. Suddenly she was in a better mood.
"I had no luck at the Dog, I'm here at the Black Cat."
"Brilliant!" Sasha was excited. "I have a flat just above the Black Cat." Sasha smiled. Maybe things weren't so bad after all.