"I dont care how important it is." Celia yelled into the phone. "Its my birthday and you should be here." Aunt Celia was really pissed off with her husband Bill. It was her 45th birthday and he was still at work. "Its fucking six oclock on a Friday night and youre still at work. I bet youre screwing that secretary of yours arent you?" She took another swig from her cocktail and leant forward in her chair. Her breasts nearly spilt out of her sundress as she did so. "Tonight is going to be a big night whether youre here or not." She whispered loudly enough for everyone to hear down the line and then promptly hung up.
"He can be such a dickhead." Celia said.
Celia wasnt really my Aunty, she was just a friend of my Mum and Dad who Id known forever. Id been calling her Aunty Celia since time began. Celia was now on her fourth husband and theyd been married now for nearly two years. Bill was quite a nice, handsome man in his late forties who managed a stockbroking firm in Sydney. They were very well off and lived in a harbour side mansion in Vaucluse. Celia spent most of her time socialising with the rest of her wealthy friends and was very active.
Shed never had any children, was physically fit and had access to the best beauticians money could buy. At 45 she didnt look a day over 35. She was about 55" and had short brown hair. She was a typical Northern or Eastern suburbs rich bitch. She drove an Audi, lived in a three story harbour side home and was always dressed in the finest clothes. Shed never worked a day in her life although there was a rumour going around that shed met her first husband when she was working in a brothel. She always managed to land on her feet after breaking up with one of her husbands. Her second husband, a pig of a man, was her solicitor after shed divorced John, her first husband. Her second marriage lasted three years before she busted him picking up men on Oxford Street. He didnt have a leg to stand on and ended up giving her a mi... Læs hele novellen
