Debut or The EWOC

This piece of flash fiction was inspired by a wedding reception I went to in the City of London. It was a very 'fish out of water' situation, I am a far cry from the city types I was mingling with. I was only on the very edge of that world and now that situation feels a very long way away from me. I'm glad I have this small piece of writing to remind me of that 'unreal' time in my life. I still find myself wondering about those people and the kind of life they lead. I couldn't keep up that level of pretence and 'I just had to let it go,' as John Lennon once sang; 'Watching the Wheels' indeed.

Debut by LJ Finnigan

'The wedding party arrived by double decker bus. Christine was one of the last to step outside into the late afternoon sun, onto the hard grey city of London pavement, before stepping foot into the Merchant Taylors grand hall.

Inside the hall was cool and dim, Christine’s black heeled shoes clattered on the hard stone floor and she found herself fascinated by the echo that was produced. It was then that she became acutely aware of her difference.

Despite her expensive haircut and her elegant clothes, she didn’t quite gel with her surroundings. The others seemed to carry on as they normally did, they were at home. But to Christine, this was odd.

‘Max,’ Christine called to her date, her boyfriend of two years.

A little ahead of her a shaggy haired, rugby-playing, ex-public school type lowered his eyebrows at her and gave her a crooked sort of smile. He was standing amidst a group of Greek Goddesses and their mother, apparently. Christine felt her face heat up and knew that she must be going red.

‘I’m an embarrassment,’ she thought.

It was then that she became aware that her time in this world and with this man would be short lived. He was already tiring of her. Soon she would be banished; back to her shabby house on the edge of the council estate where she had lived all her life, back to buses, lonely nights in front of the TV, her mediocre family, her ‘just getting by’ existence. Back to the land of the EWOCs, the vanishing English Working Class tribe that she belonged to.

‘OK Christine, I’m just catching up with some old friends from university. Help yourself. There’s plenty to eat and drink,’ said Steven, obviously itching to get away.

‘I’m fine, don’t worry about me,’ said Christine, humbly.

The couple were edging away from each other even now; Steven towards a new group of ex-University students and Christine towards the long white table-clothed table full of Champagne and canapés.

Christine stood alone sipping her glass of champagne and studying the assortment of wedding party guests until her gaze settled on a particularly pleasing specimen of city boyhood; tall, blond, athletic. His handsome face returned her lustful look with a particularly manly one of his own. Christine felt the exquisite sensation that she would be the instrument of her own destruction.'