You were once just normal.
Can you spare a fiftypound note? Im broke and the petrol gauge is dead, the voice memo from a mate ended.
Diana opened her banking app in silence, tapped the transfer button. Five pounds zoomed to Liam in an instant, faster than she could finish the irritated thought.
Thanks, sunshine, youre the best! a reply pinged a minute later.
She set the phone down and stared at the ceiling of her bedroom. The best, she thought. Of course. Who else would send money at eleven at night without asking any questions? Who else would forget the threepound loan from two weeks ago?
Half a year earlier everything had been different. She, Liam, Molly and Craig earned roughly the same give or take five hundred pounds, a joke. They split pizza equally, divided the café bill four ways, no one kept track of each others cash. Then Diana finished her thesis, got a promotion, and moved to a new department.
Her salary quadrupled.
Not oneandahalf, not double, but four times.
She didnt notice the change right away. For the first couple of months she lived as before, tucking away a rainyday fund, buying food on sale, counting every purchase as if it cost more than a hundred pounds. A habit. Her friends, however, saw it immediately, as if a neon sign had lit up on her forehead: Im a millionaire now, bring it on.
Diana sat on the bed, pulling her knees to her chest. She remembered that evening the first gettogether after her promotion. Molly trotted in with a cheap fizzy drink, Craig with a bag of crisps. Liam arrived emptyhanded but with a wide grin.
Diana ordered sushi, bought decent drinks, cheese, fruit. As usual, she split the total by four and posted the amount in the group chat. No one transferred. She waited a day, two, a week. Finally she sent a reminder, polite, with a smiling emoji.
Darling, whats the point? Youve got money to burn now, Molly replied.
Dont worry, well chip in next time, Craig added.
The next time never came. Well, it did, but the pattern repeated. Diana set the table, friends arrived, ate, left, and the bill was again hers alone.
Then Diana asked directly. They were sitting in her kitchen, polishing the pasta shed been simmering for two hours.
Guys, she began, how are we going to split the costs? Ive spent about five hundred pounds on everything.
Liam choked on his wine. Molly widened her eyes. Craig pretended to study the pattern on the tablecloth.
Darling, Molly said in that patronising tone used with a petulant child, youre rich now. Five hundred pounds is like five pounds to us.
Exactly, Liam chimed. You wont go broke, and were already strapped.
Dont be stingy, love, Craig patted her shoulder. Were friends.
Friends. Diana nodded, smiled, and let the uncomfortable subject drop. She didnt want a fight, didnt want to be the miser counting pennies on a sixfigure salary. But after that night she called them over less and less, citing work, fatigue, plans. Sometimes she even lied, just to avoid feeling used.
Shopping trips with them turned into a kind of torture. Each time someone forgot their wallet, couldnt get cash out, left their card at home. Two pounds here, three pounds there. Diana bailed them out, because refusing felt rude with a queue snaking behind.
But the money never came back. Never.
Then New Years Eve arrived. December thirtyfirst. Diana stood in the middle of her living room, surveying the spread: a bowl of salad, pickled herring, roast chicken, assorted platters, a mound of mandarins in a crystal vase. All beautiful, all on her tab.
She hadnt planned to spend the holiday with them. She wanted to be alone, watch a cheesy New Years film, crawl to bed by two. But they kept pressing.
Darling, how will you be alone on New Years? Well come, itll be fun!
Your flats big enough for everyone!
You wont ditch us, will you?
She agreed, still hoping. Maybe theyd changed. Maybe theyd bring something, chip in, at least say thank you.
The TV murmured in the background. Diana adjusted the glittering bauble on the artificial tree in the corner and glanced at the clock. Eleven. Soon theyd be here.
The intercom rang at a quarter to twelve. Molly burst in first, a cloud of cloying perfume and glitter.
Darling! Happy New Year! Ive got a present for you!
Liam and Craig followed, tumbling in.
Wow, the table looks great! Craig flopped onto the sofa and reached for the salad. Darling, youve outdone yourself. I havent eaten since morning.
Diana fetched glasses, poured drinks. They clinked, toasted the past year, the new one, friendship. She smiled, said the right things. Inside something gnawed, scraped, but she kept it hidden. Not now. Not ten minutes before midnight.
When the clock struck, Diana made a wish: that the next year would be fairer.
Presents! Molly squealed. Lets open them!
Diana handed the parcels to her friends.
Here you go, love! Molly thrust a bag into her hands.
Inside was a watermelonscented shower gel.
Oh, thank you, Diana said, turning the gel over. Watermelon. Nice.
From me! Craig handed his bag.
Red socks with reindeers. The price tag still attached £1.20.
Cool, she set the socks aside.
And from me! Liam solemnly presented a tiny box.
Three cheap plastic baubles, paint peeling.
Diana looked at her haul: gel, socks, baubles. Total cost about £3. She nodded to herself. Right. Everything in order.
Now open mine, she said.
Molly ripped hers first. Inside a diary, some sweets, and another pair of reindeer socks, but prettier.
Craig got a shaving kit and candy. Liam a thermos mug and a scarf.
All threes faces stretched in unison, as if rehearsed.
Um is that it? Molly asked, holding up the diary. Thats the whole gift?
What do you mean?
Well she waved the diary, just a diary? Thats it?
Diana reclined, crossed her legs.
Yes. Anything wrong?
Darling, Liam interjected, we thought youd you know, splurge a bit. You can afford it.
Im giving you what you gave me, roughly the same price range. Thats fair, she said evenly. Is that unfair?
Its unfair! Molly flared. You earn a hundred times more than us!
Four times, Diana corrected. That doesnt mean I have to spend more on you than you do on me.
You have to! Molly jumped up. Friends share!
Diana looked up at her, at the flushed cheeks, the glitter in her hair, the trembling lips.
Share? she repeated. Ive been paying for everything for six months. Every meetup is on my tab. You never repay debts. You show up emptyhanded and eat my food, then tell me I owe you?
Youre stingy, Craig threw in. Just stingy. Youve got cash, but act like a pauper.
Im acting like someone fed up with being used, Diana rose. You owe me a lot this year. Not a penny returned. Tonights feast cost me fifteen hundred pounds. Did you chip in? No. Did you even offer? No. You just sat and ate.
Because youre rich! Molly shouted. Its peanuts to you!
Whether peanuts or millions, its my money. My money. I earned it. I dont have to spend it on people who treat me like a walking wallet.
Silence fell. Craig exhaled loudly. Liam turned toward the window. Molly stood, cheeks still pink, diary still dangling.
Youve changed, she said softly. You used to be normal.
Molly flung the diary onto the sofa.
Lets go, guys. Nothing for us here.
They gathered in silence, pulling on jackets, shoes, not looking at her. Liam finally turned at the door.
Dont be like this, Darryl. Weve been friends for years.
Friends, she agreed. Then you decided I should fund you.
The door slammed. Footsteps on the stairs faded. Diana was left alone in the flat, the scent of salad and burnt sparklers lingering.
She went back to the table, filled a glass, ate a spoonful of salad surprisingly tasty with homemade mayo. Picked up a mandarin, then another. The TV played The Irony of Fate. She smirked, pulled out her phone, blocked Molly first, then Liam, then Craig. Deleted them from all socials, cleared the chats.
This friendship hadnt survived the money test. Shed thought friends would stay friends no matter how many zeros appeared on her pay slip. But money turned out to be litmus paper, showing who was there for you and who was after your wallet.
She finished the salad, wrapped herself in a blanket, changed the channel.
Outside, fireworks burst. Colourful flashes lit the night sky above the rooftops. She watched, smiling not a forced grin, a genuine one.
It wasnt the end. Shed find other people, those who value her for herself, with or without cash. Those who wont tally her salary and calculate how much they can squeeze out of her.
The mandarins smelled of holidays and childhood. Diana peeled another, split it, slipped it into her mouth. Sweet, juicy, perfect.
Happy New Year, Darryl. Happy new life, she whispered to herself.
