A Disastrous Hen Night

by | Jan 19, 2013 | Creative Writing, Flash Fiction | 0 comments

Maggie was having a lie in, listening to Steve Wright’s Sunday Love Songs on Radio 2, when she suddenly remembered that she had promised to ring her fiancé to let him know that she had got home safely after her hen night. She heaved herself lazily out of her cosy bed and looked for her handbag. She remembered she had been very drunk when she got home when she found her bag hanging on the banister where she had obviously put it when she staggered through the front door after the taxi dropped her off.

Groping about in the bag for her phone, Maggie started to worry. Surely she hadn’t lost it? She hadn’t used it at all last night while she was out, and she knew she had it with her when she left home. Maggie tipped the contents of her bag out on to the bottom stair, but there was no phone. There was just her make up bag, a packet of tissues, her empty purse and a betting slip. That reminded her.

They had all gone into the bookies to place a bet on whether it would snow on her wedding day next weekend. Why on earth had she let Jenny convince her to waste her money on such a crazy bet? They had all placed their bets, then gone on to a night club.

The local “John Travolta” type was strutting his stuff, and he had grabbed her and pulled her on to the dance floor to dance with him as soon as she arrived. She had left her bag on the table where her friends were sitting, and had a good old bop, never noticing until much later that her friends had all gone to dance as well.

When Maggie sat down again, her friends had gone to the ladies, but her bag was still there on the table. She never thought of looking in it again, as the group of lads they had been dancing with had all bought the girls round after round of drinks. Then, after the fireman strippers came, the girls all had their minds on other things anyway. At the end of a hysterical night out, the pre-booked taxi came for them at 1pm, so there had been no need for her to use her phone, or the money she had in her purse.

That was a lesson well learned. Her bag had obviously been raided while she was dancing with “Jonn Revolta.” Had her phone and the contents of her purse been stolen by one of his mates? How was she going to explain that to her fiancé?


A ten minute tale at January Creative Writing Meeting – A story using the prompts “Love Song”, “Stolen Phone” and “Bet”.