Big Night Out [Paperback]

'A superb book, which lends you all the inspiration you need
to don those kitten heels, down some cocktails and party along to some top quality tunes.'

'The perfect dip in, dip out holiday read...brimming with fab short stories.'

'Whatever your taste in fiction, put your feet up - giving to charity has rarely been so entertaining.'

'If you pack one book this summer, make sure it's this.'

a special collection of short stories by some of the starriest names in the worlds of literature and fashion...

sparkly collection of short stories

An exciting new collection of over thirty short stories interspersed with illustrations, cocktail recipes and lists of songs for a guaranteed BIG NIGHT OUT and set to repeat the phenomenal success of Girls' Night In and Girls' Night Out/Boys' Night In.

Following on from the bestselling anthologies Girls' Night In and Girls' Night Out/Boys' Night In comes the biggest collection yet in aid of the international charity War Child.

The theme is literally a BIG NIGHT OUT – any time, any place.

The anthology will feature approximately 35 short stories and some special features to punctuate the stories – illustrations, lists of songs for a big night out and cocktail recipes. Those already lined up include Kathy Lette, Candace Bushnell, Nick Hornby, Glen Baxter, Boy George, Julian Clary, Helen Lederer, Jenny Eclair, Gordon Ramsay, Marian Keyes.

Once again, all the contributors involved will provide their story/recipe/illustration etc. gratis, and HarperCollins will donate a least £1 to War Child for every copy sold, continuing the amazing work for children in war zones whose lives have been torn apart by conflict.

The A-list of contemporary writers, performers and celebrities invite you on a 'Big Night Out' to remember…!

• Julian Clary
• Kate Moss
• Boy George
• Bob Geldof
• Tracey Cox
• Jenny Eclair
• Jeremy Dyson
• Jamie Oliver
• Steve Coogan
• Nick Earls
• Helen Lederer
• John Peel
• Clare Grogan
• Imogen Edwards-Jones
• Tyne O'Connell
• Rebecca Ray
• Scarlett Thomas
• Maggie Alderson
• Armstrong and Miller
• John Gordon Sinclair
• Lisa Armstrong
• Jessica Adams
• Joan Collins

This book contains everything you need to guarantee a starry, starry night, from brilliant short stories to secret recipes for cocktails (and hangover cures) and DJ's essential listening for a night on the town.

And while you laugh, cry and feel just a little bit star-struck, you'll also be raising funds for War Child, the charity set up to aid children around the world affected by war. As if you needed any more encouragement to rub shoulders with the rich and famous…

The editors, authors and contributors will be well known in the British market, many of them as big bestsellers. Many will want to be involved in the publicity.

Be careful what you wish for they say. So when Siobhan came back from Australia with an Aboriginal dreaming bowl and invited us all to place a wish in it, I’m ashamed to say I wished for a fairy-tale romance. It wasn’t the kind of thing I would normally do but I was a bit wounded at the time. Even while I was folding up the note to put in the bowl, I hated Mark for turning me into the sort of person who made such pathetic wishes.

Naturally enough, I told everyone that I’d wished for peace in the Middle east. The only person I told the truth to was Siobhan – who confessed that she already knew, that after everyone had left she’d unfolded the notes and read them all. She was quick to reassure me that I wasn’t alone; the person who’d claimed he’d wished for his mother’s arthritis to improve had in fact wished for a silver SL320 Merc with many optional extras, including heated leather seats and a CD player.

‘It’s just a bit of fun,’ Siobhan said, but I was keen to have faith in the future, and hoped it would come true. In a way it did.
Would you believe it, less than a week later I met a man. Not just any man, but a fireman. The job alone was sexy, and he was gorgeous – arms the size of my thighs, huge barrel chest all the better to crush me against. The only thing was…he was shorter than I expected firemen to be but never mind, I was off tall men.

And he was a kind and caring person; only a kind a caring person would put their life at risk entering burning buildings to rescue sleeping children and climbing up trees to bring home beloved cats.

We hit it off, he asked me out, Siobhan smiled proudly from the sidelines as if it was all her doing and suddenly I was in great form. I embarked on the round of shopping and ablutions that a first date calls for and Saturday night couldn’t come fast enough.

But on Saturday afternoon my phone rang. It was my hero and he was yawning so hard his jaw cracked. ‘I’m sorry Kate, out on a job last night, just got back, need some sleep, on a shift again tomorrow.’

Another huge big yawn.

What could I say? Huffiness simply wasn’t an option – no sniping about freshly done nails, new sandals, having turned down four other invitations and now what was I supposed to do, spend my Saturday night cleaning the bathroom? (Like I’d done every previous Saturday for the past month.) Instead I had to sympathize, even praise and for the first time I saw the downside of having a boyfriend who saved lives for a living.
We rearranged for Thursday night and he promised he’d be wide awake and full of beans. I came to work on Thursday in my going-out clothes and Mark watched me click-clacking in my high sandals to the photocopier, but said nothing.

But that lunchtime – minutes after I’d got back from spending my lunch hour getting my hair blow-dried – my fireman rang. He’d just got home after a fifteen- hour stint dousing a huge conflagration in a rubber goods warehouse.

‘I’m sorry, Kate.’ A five second yodelly yawn followed. ‘I really need some zeds, I’m so sleepy.’

The disappointment was intense and as I thought of my good hair and my inappropriate clothes, I swallowed, braced myself – then went for it.

Brazenly, I said, ‘I could come over and keep you company.’

He was shocked. To the core. He made interfering with a fireman’s sleep sound like a criminal offence and as I hung up I suspected I wouldn’t be hearing from him again.
But there was no time to be miserable because within days, I’d met Charlie – at a party where he walked straight over to me, pointed a finger and said, ‘You babe, are the woman I’m going to marry.’

‘What a fool,’ Siobhan murmured and even while one part of my brain was agreeing with her, another part found his confidence strangely alluring.

‘The name’s Charlie,’ he said. ‘Remember it because you’ll be screaming it later.’

‘I don’t think so,’ I replied, and he just laughed and said he wouldn’t take no for an answer.
Over the next two weeks he pursued me rapaciously and he seemed so sure he’d win me over that in the end he managed to convince me of it too.

When I finally agreed to go out with him he promised he’d show me the best night of my life and I must admit I was intrigued.

First he took me to a party, but he made us leave after fifteen minutes because he was bored, then he took me to a bar, which I’d read about but hadn’t been to, but we were barely there half an hour before he wanted to be off again. Two more parties and a club followed – he had the shortest attention span of anyone I’d ever met and in a way all that variety was exciting.

There were three or four nights like that and at the time I thought of myself as glamorous but now what I remember most is the number of times I had to gulp back the drink which had just arrived, while Charlie eyed the exit and tapped his foot impatiently.

So convincing was Charlie’s wide-boy swagger that it took me some time to notice that he was shorter than me. A lot shorter when I wore my boots. And when he couldn’t sit through a film – and we’re not talking Dances With Wolves or Heaven’s Gate here, only a normal ninety-minute one – his attention deficit disorder began to annoy me.
Worse still he always seemed to have a cold and his constant sniffing was driving me mad. Mad.