The girl who would take me down to the pub that weekend, Elsie, worked in my grandmother’s kitchen. I’d met her once or twice and she seemed nice enough, if a little more buttoned up than I was used to. So I was quite surprised when she asked me if I wanted to come to her flat after dinner on Friday to get ready and meet some of the girls.

But what else did I have to do? So after supper on Friday, I let her come up to my room and sit on my bed while I picked out some clothes.

Fortunately, in this instance, despite my three large suitcases, I had relatively few clothes in my wardrobe here in England as compared to my entire wardrobe currently housed in a residence that I had no access to without contacting a stuffy lawyer and obtaining Nora’s permission.

I pulled out a deep green mini dress that was one of my favourites back home. “This?” I held it up to my body and did a little twirl for her to see it from a few angles. A little pang shot through my chest. This is Kat’s job.

“Maybe a little tight?” she suggested.

I pulled out dress after dress, all of which she turned her nose up at as ‘too something.’ Finally, exasperated, I threw my hands in the air. “What on earth is wrong with all my clothes?”

“Perhaps they’re a tad…” she paused to think, “formal.”

“Formal?” I looked down at the floral strapless dress in my arms. Nothing about it screamed formal. “Well, then, what do you suggest? Pants?”

She giggled. “Denim could work, or maybe just a less fancy dress. Did you bring anything like that with you? You look about Zoe’s size if you want to borrow something.”

I shook my head. “No, I’m sure I have something.” She scrolled on her phone while I searched my wardrobe for a pair of dark wash jeans and a looser top.

“This?” I said when I finally found the blouse I was looking for. “With maybe a belt?”

“I have just the one, if you want to use it. Or we can look through yours?” Why is making friends so hard as an adult?

“No, I’ve spent enough time searching my clothes. I’d love to borrow it.” This is how you make friends, right?

I had to admit the outfit looked alright when laid out on the bed. It wasn’t what I would have picked, obviously. I wasn’t entirely sure if my clothes weren’t fitting in because I wasn’t fitting in, or if it was cultural differences or something, but either way I decided to wear it. I mean, Elsie was the kind of person my grandmother found respectable or she wouldn’t be employed. And she was clearly from the area, so hopefully I would fit in alright.

“My flat’s about five minutes’ walk,” Elsie said while I threw my makeup into its case. “You might not want to wear those shoes.”

I froze in the middle of putting some red pumps into the bag I was planning to take over to Elsie’s flat. “Why not?”

“You might have noticed it rains. Often. Those will be covered in mud before we leave the garden.”

Right. I held up a pair of slightly heeled ankle boots. “How about this?”

She nodded. “Much better. I’m going to get the other girls from downstairs and we’ll meet you out front by the door?”

“Yeah, sure.” For some reason, I was feeling really awkward and out of place. Which shouldn’t have been the case. I was in my element tonight. Make up, hair, and outfits were my thing. Dancing was my thing. Why was this group of girls I’d never met making me so nervous?

Kat’s voice from our call earlier that day rang in my ears. ’You have to give them a chance, A. I mean, you’re going to be there for a while and I’m going to come see you but I can’t be there all the time. You don’t want to be stuck in a house by yourself with your grandma.’

I hadn’t yet told her about Ezrah, because she’d surely read too much into it. But she had a point about everything else, so I took a deep breath, shook my hands to stop them from shaking, and picked up my bag to head down to the front door.

The girls all chatted about work and their boyfriends as we made the five-minute walk down the path toward what I would later find out were the employee quarters. While my grandmother didn’t require anyone to live on site, she offered an apartment to every employee at just a high enough price to keep the building going. Maybe she wasn’t all salt after all.

“I’m up on the third floor and there’s no lift,” Elsie explained when she opened the front door of the building. “You need help carrying anything up?”

Did I look that fragile? She must have noticed my look because she added, “I’m just offering. You’re welcome to carry it all yourself if you want.”

“Thanks,” I said, shrugging off one of the bags. “I’d appreciate the help.” The smile I forced onto my face must have looked genuine enough to stop scaring her because she smiled and slung my bag over her shoulder.

“Let’s get upstairs, then. I have snacks!”

Saying she had snacks was an understatement. Her third-floor apartment had me breathing somewhat heavily when we pushed open the heavy wooden door, but I think I might have actually stopped breathing all together when I saw the pile of food on her table.

“How many people are you feeding?” I asked, the bag I carried sliding off my shoulder as I did. “The girls downstairs?”

“And you, of course. Plus, I have some to heat up and some drinks! We’re not meeting the guys for a couple hours, so plenty of time to snack.”

If this is the English idea of what a snack is, I can get behind this.

We were all made up, stuffed full of food, and working on at least our third drinks when there was a knock on the door.

“That’ll be the boys!” one girl cooed, sloshing a bit of her drink out of her glass on her way. When she finally got the door open, she drawled a long “heeeeeeeey” and backed up to let them in.

“We have a lot of food left if you all want to grab something while you’re waiting for us to be ready. We don’t wake up like this, you know?” Elsie seemed to appear out of nowhere, ever the efficient hostess.

“I do know, actually.” A taller man with blond hair kissed her. “But I like how you look when you wake up.”

She playfully swatted his arm. “I have to get ready. Help the guys while we primp, will you?” Elsie then strolled over to me and grabbed my hand. “Come on! We’re going to my room for finishing touches.”

She pulled quite hard, and I slid up off the sunken grey couch and stumbled forward a few times, only narrowly avoiding crashing into the very reason I was at this event at all: Ezrah Bellamy.

“You look good,” he said, laughing.

“She has to go, Ezrah,” Elsie sang, pulling my hand and dragging me along behind her. He looks good too, I had to admit.