FESTIVE FAYRE

Gabrielle and Katrina arrived at Madeline’s front door simultaneously.

“Hope she’s OK,” Gabrielle murmured.
“She really liked him,” Katrina whispered.
“What was he this time?  A stockbroker?  A venture capitalist?”
“An investment banker.”
The door opened and both women chorused; “Merry Christmas!”
Madeline looked lovely in her dress; “Dinner’s nearly ready!” she grinned, as if forcing herself into the spirit of it all.
“Dinner first, then presents, like last year,” Katrina suggested.
“Champagne first!” they all said together.

The women gathered in the kitchen and champagne was poured.

“Who wants to carve?” asked Madeline.
Katrina and Gabrielle looked at her imploringly.
“I’ve just had my nails done,” Gabrielle said.
“You cut meat so beautifully,” Katrina gushed.

Madeline sighed and took the meat from the oven.  A scent similar to pork filled the room.  Katrina and Gabrielle made appreciative noises.  While Madeline cut and divided the meat onto plates, they put vegetables into bowls, carried them through to the elaborately laid table and made sure glasses were refilled.

In the dining room, the women toasted the year that had been, then Gabrielle asked; “Do you miss him?”

Katrina shot her a look.
“Course I do,” Madeline replied, “it’s one of those things, isn’t it?  I met him in the New Year, he was new and love was new; but we all know that can’t last.” she sighed, putting a forkful of meat in her mouth, chewing thoughtfully.
“They go off don’t they?”  Katrina stated.
“Start neglecting their bodies,” Gabrielle said, “nice and fit when you meet them, then the gym visits stop and they sit in front of the TV, drink beer and eat doner kebabs ...”
“They start wearing jogging bottoms.  Then they fart on the upholstery and belch.” Katrina wrinkled her nose.
“They expect us to keep our figures,” Gabrielle continued, cutting meat off bone and skewering it on her fork.
“And they get irritable with you just for being alive.”
"You forget what you saw in them.”  They stopped, realising that Madeline hadn’t said anything.  She was staring nostalgically at her plate.
She looked up; “It’s better this way.  Why not feed them up?  Accelerate the inevitable decline?”
Gabrielle’s face softened, “You did seem to like him ...”
“He’d have turned out like the others,” Madeline’s eyes narrowed, “got mean, taken me for granted, spent all his time at work, forgotten my birthday.  Little by little with these City men the love ebbs away.  No, let it stay new forever and then we three get something out of it, this lovely party, this delicious meat.”
“They don’t all taste the same,” Gabrielle said, “this one is the best so far.”
“Yes, he was,” Madeline said sadly.
“We can’t wait to give you your present,” Gabrielle handed Madeline a parcel, “go on!”
Madeline opened it.
“Careful!” Katrina giggled.
Madeline stared at the sharp, bejewlled dagger in her hand; “Thanks ladies, you shouldn’t have!”
Katrina grinned, raising her glass; “Here’s to January ...”
“And hunting in Canary Wharf!” cried Madeline and Gabrielle.