by Lindsey Kelk
Carefully, he padded over to the check-in desk, pointing back at me and Lucy as he turned his sleepy smile on the girl behind the counter.
‘What’s he doing?’ I wondered aloud as she nodded eagerly and disappeared into the little room where they kept all the skates.
‘Maybe he’s asking if they’ve got kneepads for you,’ she replied. ‘Or a nice helmet.’
I narrowed my eyes and slurped through the straw until her carton was empty.
‘Here we are.’ John returned to our spot with a proud look on his face and an ancient wheelchair in his hands. ‘Let’s go.’
‘I fell on my bum,’ I said, shifting in my seat to test said body part. Nope, too sore to sit on. ‘I don’t think I need a wheelchair.’
‘It’s not for you,’ he replied pointedly before nodding at Lucy. ‘It’s for you. Hop in and I’ll take you round.’
Lucy clapped gleefully, transferring herself into the other chair and cheering as John pushed her onto the rink. Propping my chin up in my hand, elbow on the table, I watched them circle the floor, Sumi, Jemima, Adrian and the rest hooking onto John’s waist in a long conga line of skating-rink goodness.
‘Ros!’ Sumi wailed. ‘Get your fucking arse back out here.’
‘It’s my fucking arse I’m worried about!’ I shouted back, blanching as a woman and her young daughter walked by. The little girl’s eyes bulged and she grinned. ‘Sorry,’ I said, apologizing profusely to the mother and forcing myself to my feet. ‘Very sorry.’
With an awkward limp, I shuffled back onto the rink and waited for them to circle back around.
‘Watch out!’ yelled Adrian at the back of the train. ‘Here we come!’
I reached out my arms and grabbed hold of him around the waist, squealing with laughter as I was pulled along by my friends.
‘Feels like we were just here yesterday,’ Adrian shouted over his shoulder.
‘I know,’ I replied, happily clutching his belt loops and ignoring the throbbing pain in my left hip as we whirled around, more and more people joining the back of the chain until everyone in the rink was part of it, all of us skating together. ‘Isn’t it brilliant?’
Sumi’s birthday party was officially a success.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
‘Another round?’
John stood up, nodding at the assenting murmurs that passed around the table. Roller skating was thirsty work and, according to all the empty plates that covered our table, hungry work on top of that.
While my roller rink plan had turned out to be a resounding success, my plan to eat at the American diner next door was less of a winner. We had literally walked in, taken one look at the place and walked back out. It wasn’t my fault, Sumi assured me as we jumped on the tube back to Good Luck Bar. How could I have known the supposed retro restaurant hadn’t seen so much as a Dettol wipe since the turn of the century? It had a very fancy Instagram that didn’t once mention the rats running around outside by the bins.
And so, we were tucked away in an upstairs room at Good Luck Bar I hadn’t known existed until tonight and, credit where credit’s due, it was utterly gorgeous. Exposed concrete walls, huge windows and soft pink velvet chairs to match the booths downstairs. Even with my broken bottom, they were so comfy, if I could have got one in my handbag, I would have. Hanging overhead at either end of the room were two beautiful chandeliers and, at the very, very back, I saw two huge double doors that led to a cluttered, closed-off roof terrace beyond.
‘This is the best birthday ever,’ Sumi cried, waving her still very full glass high above her head and splashing the contents in her hair. ‘I love you, John.’
‘Don’t let your grandmother hear that,’ Adrian accessorized his warning with a hiccup. ‘It’s not fair to get her hopes up at her age.’
‘He’s so good though,’ she slurred as our host let himself behind the bar and began mixing drinks. ‘I’m so grateful for you, John. It’s so hard to make new friends when you get older. Ones that aren’t shit, I mean. And you’re not shit at all. We’re all so grateful for you.’
He looked up from the bar, just long enough to show off an awkward, faux-embarrassed grin. I rolled my eyes and emptied my glass at the same time.
‘Everyone go around the table and tell me what they’re grateful for,’ Sumi demanded, banging her hand on the table. ‘Ade, you go first.’
‘Remember that time we got so drunk on her birthday that we woke up in France?’ I whispered to Lucy.
‘Paris is beautiful this time of year,’ she nodded with a nostalgic sigh.
‘All right, what am I grateful for?’ Adrian said, missing his glass when he reached out for it. ‘I’m grateful for a roof over my head and food in my belly and my wonderful friends. Also tits.’
‘Tits!’ Sumi clapped her approval. ‘I’m grateful for Adrian’s beautiful honesty. Lucy, what about you?’
‘I’m grateful for my new best friend,’ she said, gazing down at her stomach. ‘Whom I can’t wait to meet.’
‘What are you going to do if it turns out to be a serial killer?’ Adrian asked while Sumi booed Lucy’s answer. ‘Or even worse, what if it’s ugly?’
‘How is ugly worse than a serial killer?’ John asked. He returned to the table with a pitcher of fresh margaritas, holding it aloft to rapturous applause.
‘Serial killers charismatic are at least.’ Adrian held out his glass for a top-up. ‘If the baby is ugly, there’s nothing we can do. Until it’s old enough for surgery.’
‘He is joking, isn’t he?’ Jemima asked me.
‘It’s easier to assume he is,’ I replied. ‘I know he’s not ideal but we just don’t have the energy to interview for a replacement and you’ve got to have a boy in your group so someone can answer the sports questions at the pub quiz.’
‘I will love my baby even if it’s an ugly serial killer,’ Lucy announced before knitting her eyebrows together. ‘Which it won’t be.’
‘And what about you, Ros?’ John reached his arm across my face to fill my glass. ‘What are you grateful for?’
Sumi leaned forward to stare at me with unfocused eyes, her face and her hair falling into the remains of her Barnsley chop as she did so.
‘I’m grateful for a lot of things,’ I replied, pursing my lips as John took the empty seat to my left that I was still saving for Patrick. Two hours after he was supposed to meet us. ‘Mostly, I’m grateful for old friends.’
‘To old friends and new ones,’ John said, raising his glass into the air.
‘To friends!’ Sumi repeated, throwing the contents of her glass up into the air so that it splashed down on her friends in a light, sugary margarita rain. ‘Wait, didn’t I already say friends? You can’t say something I already said, go again.’
I thought hard for a moment, fully aware that Adrian was filming me on his phone. If he was posting this to Instagram, I would kill him.
‘Then I’m grateful for second chances,’ I said.
‘Bleurgh,’ Sumi stuck her fingers down her throat and I responded in kind with a finger of my own.
‘Didn’t I hear your boyfriend was coming tonight?’ John asked, leaning his head over to one side while Jemima brushed Sumi’s hair back from her face and dodged her sloppy, drunken kisses.
‘Yes,’ I replied without correcting his terminology. It was perfectly all right for other people to call Patrick my boyfriend, even if it was a bit early to be claiming it myself. ‘He is. He will be here very soon.’
I glanced down at my phone. No reply to my last three messages, the one letting him know we were ordering dinner or the two I’d sent to make sure he was OK.
‘Sweet Ros,’ Sumi sighed, resting her head on a pile of jackets and jumpers she had pulled onto the table. ‘Sweet, naïve Ros.’
‘He’s coming,’ I insisted. He’d said he was coming, he had no reason to lie. ‘He’s just caught up with his writing.’
‘Or he’s been abducted by aliens,’ Adrian suggested. ‘Or he’s run off t
o join the circus.’
‘I do hope he’s all right,’ Lucy said, rubbing her stomach. ‘The circus isn’t as safe as people think.’
‘He’s not coming,’ Sumi whispered to the coats, pressing a finger to her lips as she shushed them.
‘He’s fine and he is coming,’ I repeated. ‘I didn’t know there was a time limit on when people could celebrate Sumi’s birthday?’
‘I’d say usually before midnight,’ John suggested, taking a sip of his drink. ‘But that’s just me. I’m old-fashioned like that.’
‘And preferably before the birthday girl passes out,’ Adrian added, nodding down the table, where Sumi was resting her head on her hands, eyes closed, mouth open.
‘I’m not passed out,’ she replied without moving. ‘I want to go dancing.’
‘Yes, brilliant idea!’ I exclaimed, jumping up too quickly and forgetting about my roller rink injury. It wasn’t half going to hurt in the morning. ‘Let’s go dancing. Where’s the best place to go around here?’
‘Dancing, yeah,’ Sumi cheered quietly, face planted on the table, waving her arms from side to side.
‘We could go dancing,’ Lucy suggested, pulling at her tights. ‘Or I could go home to a nice elasticated waistband and my pregnancy pillow.’
‘Pregnancy pillow, yeah,’ Sumi cheered quietly, face planted on the table, waving her arms from side to side.
‘We should get her home,’ Adrian said. ‘If she falls asleep, we’ll have to carry her.’
‘Again,’ John added.
‘But it’s so early!’ I protested, even though I already knew the party was as good as over. All around the table, people were folding up their napkins and ferreting around in handbags. ‘And look, we’ve got a fresh round of drinks, we can’t go yet. Adrian, it’s Saturday night and it’s only just eleven. There’s no way you’re going home.’
I grabbed the jug of margaritas and began pouring them into everyone’s glasses, ignoring their protests.
‘Sorry, chuck,’ he said, ruffling a hand through his gingery blond hair. ‘I’m afraid I’m tapping out. I’ve signed up for CrossFit in the morning so I need to be fresh-ish at the very least.’
‘CrossFit?’ I was dubious at best. ‘But you hate exercise. And you’re always the last one to call it a night. Don’t let me down, Adrian.’
‘What can I say?’ he said with a shrug. ‘I’ve turned over a new leaf.’
I glared at him with narrowed eyes.
‘You’re trying to crack on to a girl at CrossFit.’
He shook his head, no. ‘I’m trying to crack on to the girl that teaches CrossFit.’
‘It’s Sumi’s birthday,’ I reminded everyone as I saw the Uber app open on one phone after another. ‘This is supposed to be the wildest night of the year and you’re all going home before midnight?’
‘It’s been a really long week,’ one of Sumi’s friends commented.
‘It’s been a long year,’ added another.
‘And roller skating really took it out of me,’ Jemima added to a chorus of agreement. ‘Sorry, Ros, but I’m really old.’
‘You’re thirty-four,’ I wailed. ‘You’re a baby!’
‘This was a really fun night,’ Lucy declared, officially calling an end to proceedings. ‘Thank you so much for saving the day, John.’
‘Ah, no worries,’ he said, waving away her appreciation with a smile. ‘We don’t get to use this room often enough anyway and you know chef is always looking for guinea pigs to test new recipes on.’
‘You must let us pay for drinks,’ she said, fishing around in her handbag for her wallet. ‘It’s the least we can do.’
‘Not at all,’ John said. ‘My treat. What’s the point in running a bar if you can’t get your friends pissed on their birthday?’
Slowly, Sumi was raised from the table, her arms draped around Jemima and Adrian’s shoulders, and carefully led downstairs as everyone buzzed around one another with kisses on cheeks and vague promises of getting together ‘sometime soon’. At the back of the pack, I waved them all off, making sure everyone was in their taxi, their Uber, setting off for the right bus stop, before I checked my phone one last time.
Still no word from Patrick.
‘Not in a rush to get home then?’ John asked as I lingered in the doorway.
‘Not really,’ I admitted, my stomach sinking further with every passing second. The thought of returning the shed and its dripping roof did absolutely nothing to soothe my mood.
‘Want to finish off those margaritas?’
I crossed my arms over my chest and considered my options. Drink very strong cocktails with a man I was less than keen on or get back on the bus to my pimped-out shed and wonder endlessly why Patrick hadn’t bothered to turn up?
‘It would be terrible to let them go to waste,’ I said, resignedly following him back upstairs.
John placed an exceptionally large margarita in front of me and took a seat on the opposite side of the table. Sitting face to face as he quietly savoured his drink, I couldn’t help but be impressed by how shiny his longish black hair was, lit by the chandeliers overhead. There was no denying it was good hair, the way it curled against the nape of his neck and messily pushed back away from his face. I wondered what it would look like if he let it grow longer. Would it be as curly as mine? His eyes were deep brown and his complexion had a warm olive tone, although he looked as though he could stand to see the sun a little bit more often. Objectively a fox, I decided, kicking my shoes off underneath the table. I was out of practice in heels, definitely needed to build up my tolerance. Unlike my tolerance to tequila, which seemed to be doing just fine.
‘So, you’ve been back how long now?’ he asked, in between sips.
‘Two weeks.’
‘And how are you enjoying being home?’
‘It’s fine.’
‘Work’s going well?’
‘Not really.’
He laughed unexpectedly as he licked the salt from the rim of his glass.
‘I love how talkative you are,’ he said. ‘This really is a thrilling conversation.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I said with a big sigh. ‘This time it’s not actually you.’
‘Didn’t think it was.’ John raised his glass across the table. ‘Cheers.’
‘I wanted tonight to be perfect,’ I explained, lifting my glass in his direction. ‘Sumi’s birthday always used the biggest party of the year and I didn’t want to let her down. Tonight was fine but it wasn’t that extra, was it? No wacky adventures, no shenanigans to speak of. Just a perfectly ordinary Saturday night.’
‘With roller skating,’ John added.
‘Once on Sumi’s birthday, she ended up on stage during a touring production of Cats in Reading,’ I replied.
He looked equally impressed and afraid. ‘My worst nightmare. How did you organize that?’
‘Oh, we didn’t organize it,’ I said. ‘It’s surprisingly easy to get backstage in a lot of regional theatres. And Sumi does a very good Rum Tum Tugger.’
‘I bet she does,’ he laughed. ‘But you’re worrying about nothing. She seemed pleased with the evening as far as I could tell, and now she’s drunk, happy and home safe. As someone who has worked in bars for most of their life, trust me when I tell you, things could have gone a lot worse.’
‘But it used to be different,’ I said, staring out the window at the dusky sky. I had always loved a British summer and the late light nights. ‘When we all lived together, we used to go out every weekend and we didn’t come home until the sun was up, you know?’
‘Things change,’ John replied simply, wrapping long, strong fingers around his glass. ‘Just be grateful you’re not going to wake up on the night bus with someone drooling on your shoulder at three o’clock tomorrow morning.’
‘But when did they change?’ I wondered aloud. ‘One minute, things were one way and now they’re another. It feels as though it all happened at once. Lucy’s pregnant, Sumi’s asleep at th
e table and Adrian is going to CrossFit on a Sunday morning. Was there a meeting? Did I miss a memo?’
He grabbed a wedge of lime from a plate in the middle of the table and squeezed it into his drink, mixing it with a tiny metal straw. His hands were massive, I noticed. Long fingers, short nails, a strong forearm resting on the table and just a hint of an equally impressive bicep hidden by the sleeve of his grey T-shirt.
‘I just wish everything was the same as it used to be,’ I said, closing my eyes on it all.
‘I’ve got to say,’ John tapped the metal straw against the rim of his glass. ‘You’re not at all how I’d imagined you to be.’
I opened my eyes and looked at him across the table.
‘When were you imagining me to be anything?’
As his face broke out into a smile that still turned down at the edges, I noticed a dimple in his left cheek that I hadn’t seen before. Probably because I hadn’t seen him smile all that much.
‘I was curious,’ he replied. ‘They would talk about you all the time, Sumi and the others. It’s only natural to wonder.’
Leaning my elbows on the long table, I considered him with more interest. It was a strange feeling, to find out there had been a complete stranger walking around, forming an opinion about you without your having any say in the matter.
‘What is it about me that isn’t what you expected?’
‘I don’t know,’ John said slowly, his brown eyes lightly scanning my face. ‘They all talked you up so much.’
‘And the real-life me is nothing but a disappointment?’ I asked with a deprecating laugh he didn’t return. Instead he raised his glass to his lips and held it there for a moment before taking a sip.
‘Not in the slightest.’
I felt a flush in my cheeks that had nothing to do with the amount of tequila in my drink. Well, maybe a little bit to do with the amount of tequila in my drink.
‘I’m very good at reading people,’ he said, holding my eyes with a steady gaze. ‘But I can’t read you at all. It’s like trying to do a crossword puzzle, only the clues I’ve been given aren’t quite right.’
