Looking at Parker, who was sitting opposite me, I tried to work out his expression.
‘What?’ I asked indignantly.
But he gave me no reply. His eyes widened and with an outstretched finger he pointed for me to turn around.
Thinking they must have organized a surprise for me like a strippergram I spun round on my chair with a big smile on my face.
But oh, how wrong could I be.
Instead of some greasy bodybuilder in a dirty fireman outfit I found an angry David Barron standing in front of me with overtly aggressive body language.
Shocked, I did what any three-year-old trapped in a thirty-year-old’s body would have done and spun back round on my chair.
If I couldn’t see him he wasn’t there.
Or maybe he’d take the hint that I wasn’t up for a chat and walk off?
No such luck.
‘Have you any shame?’ bellowed the voice behind me. I didn’t reply. I just sat rigid on the stool.
‘We can have this out right here or we can do it outside. Which would you prefer?’ I could hear the anger in his voice as it quivered when he spoke.
‘Listen, there’s no place for that kind of talk,’ said Neil, sizing him up. ‘I think you should leave.’
‘Well I think I should stay, as I’ve a few things I want to say to this bitch here who broke up my marriage.’
‘Steady on there, pal.’
‘I’m not your pal. Now get the fuck out of my way.’
‘Right, that’s it, you’re outta here.’ Neil signalled to his doormen to remove Barron, who had now started to grab at me and had managed to pull my hair.
‘I’m not going anywhere. Now get out of my face. I’m not leaving till I speak to that bitch.’
By now several of Neil’s security guys had pushed their way through the busy Saturday night throng and had grabbed hold of David’s shoulders.
‘We can do this the easy way, or the hard way,’ explained one of the extremely wide men.
‘Sorry, lads, there’s just been a misunderstanding. There’s no problem.’ David switched his tone immediately. The shock of seeing the bouncers reminded him of his manners.
‘Get him out of here,’ demanded Neil.
‘Who gives you the right?’ squealed David. ‘Somebody get me a manager?’
Neil didn’t bother explaining his title. His hired help had removed David from our reserved area and they were now halfway across the bar with him, heading in the direction of the door.
Extremely shaken, I was huddled in Parker’s arms, each of us as frazzled as the other.
‘It’s OK, he’s gone now,’ Parker tried to calm me with his powers of observation.
But I was unimpressed by his lack of support.
‘Minister for the obvious!’ I screamed back.
‘I’m sorry pet … I’m not very—’
‘What? Good in a crisis?’ I wasn’t taking any prisoners. I needed someone to vent my anger at.
‘I’m sorry …’
‘So you said.’ I shook Parker’s arm off my shoulder. ‘I was about to be attacked and you just remained glued to your seat. Thanks a million.’
With that I picked up my bag and stormed off to the loo, with Lisa and Anna trailing behind me.
‘You sure pissed him off,’ quipped a clearly delighted Anna. ‘Ha! I wonder did anyone get his rant on a videophone. We could send it in to TV3 news. I can see the story now: Publisher gone mad.’
I hadn’t the energy to scold her for trivializing David’s attack. He had really scared me. When Neil started to push him back I was almost sure he was trying to hit me.
I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t allow myself. Not with Anna still in the Ladies with us. She’d be sure to out me as a cry-baby. Not that she hung around long enough to see any tears. When she realized I wasn’t going to flip out and start bitching about him, she got bored and said she’d see us back at the table.
‘It’s your party and so you’re allowed to cry.’ Lisa could see the emotion in my eyes as she wrapped her arms around me and cuddled me in close.
‘Thank you,’ I snivelled, before weeping uncontrollably for the next ten minutes.
As I climbed to the top of the stairs on the way back from the loo, I saw what looked like Parker snogging … Wait, it couldn’t be … Was that Parker kissing Robert?
Furious, I stormed over and pulled the two of them apart.
‘What the hell is going on here?’ It felt like my head was about to explode.
Strangely cocky, Robert explained, ‘Well if it’s OK for you to kiss other girls, why isn’t it OK for me to kiss other guys?’
‘Yuck! You never told me you were gay.’
‘I’m not gay.’
‘I think you are,’ interrupted Parker, as he pointed to his pouted lips in his camp Austin Powers way.
‘No I’m not. I suppose you could say I’m bicurious,’ Robert rationalized as a smug grin rippled across his face.
‘Ha! I wonder how bi-curious your mother would be to find out your biblical habits? And as for you –’ I turned my hostility back to Parker. ‘What do you think you’re playing at?’
‘I was proving my point.’
‘What point?’ I demanded.
‘I told you I’d out Robert. I needed to prove it to you. Here’s the proof, voilà!’
‘Well thank you very much, Parker, aren’t you just a doll.’
‘Don’t get stroppy with me. You knew I was gay at the start of the night. I’m not the one lying to you, now am I?’
‘I’m not lying to you, Eva. I was merely getting into the spirit of things.’
I rolled my eyes at the absurdity of the situation.
‘Well I think this abuse is pretty rich coming from the girl who just had a full-on kiss with another bird,’ said Parker.
‘I had two, actually.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I’ve just had two full-on kisses with that “bird” and her name is Lucy.’
‘Lucy the lipstick lesbian, eh? She’s cute stuff. You don’t see many of them down the George.’ Parker did his best to ease the tension.
Realizing he couldn’t compete with another woman, let alone challenge her to a fight outside for my affections, Robert threw in the towel and left in a huff.
‘You’re both mental,’ I could hear him mutter to himself as he barged through a group of people who had been listening to the argument. By the looks on their faces, they were disappointed it was over.
‘My gaydar is never wrong,’ boasted Parker, chuffed at a job well done.
‘Ah Parker, how could you? I’ve never seen you kiss a bloke in public. Why did you have to do it with him, and on my birthday?’
‘I’ve done you a big favour, pet. I knew he was on my bus.’ He put his arm around me and started to walk me back in the direction of the others. ‘Now he’s out of the way, you can have loads more fun with your new VBF.’
Lost for words, I silently strode back to my friends. All of whom seemed to have visibly moved on from the drama and were back dancing on the couches.
Had I really been kissing a girl in public?
Did this mean I was gay?
I sat back down on my stool. There was no sign of Lucy or Neil.
Relief, I thought, taking a large mouthful of champagne. I was just reaching in my handbag for my mobile to text Maddie the scandal when a small hand slid around my waist.
‘I see your boyfriend has just left.’ I tilted my head to see Lucy smiling at me. ‘It looks like I have you all to myself,’ she whispered.
‘Listen, I’m not sure …’
‘Shhhh.’ Lucy placed her soft hand over my face to stop me from talking. ‘Relax,’ she purred. Her pride and confidence were overflowing.
Not sure how to react, I followed my gut instinct. ‘You’re dangerous,’ I told her.
‘Yes I am.’ She raised her glass of champers to toast the revelation. ‘And it’s gonna take you till tomorrow morning
to find out just how dangerous I can be …’
7
‘YOU BETTER BEHAVE yourself, or else I’m leaving the two of you at Malaga airport to be sold into white slavery,’ Parker barked at me and Maddie.
It had been a miserable Irish summer and he’d been desperate to get away to the sun. It was June and I was still out of work, which meant I was now completely broke apart from whatever odd jobs Parker threw my way.
The summer months were always considered silly season in print media circles because whenever you sent off e-mails to people looking for work, they’d bounce right back at you with the blunt message that they’d be out of the office for the next three weeks.
Thankfully my pauper status didn’t stop fun being had, as Parker kindly forked out the € 800 for my ticket. And although Maddie was one of the most successful models in the country, raking in a fortune with editorials and press work, he went and paid for her plane fare too, mumbling something like, ‘God forbid I show any favouritism.’
Of course that didn’t mean we were going to treat him any differently. Somehow we had been conditioned to expect such luxuries in life. I used to joke that every day was Valentine’s Day for me and that meant I deserved gifts all year round, but I can never recall when this spoilt behaviour began, since my mother was always such a controlling force.
But today Maddie and I were giddy with excitement, and had combined our efforts to tease Parker. As a double act we could be dangerous, but it was taking very little to wind up Parker today. He was currently having a mini diva strop because Maddie had told him his belt didn’t match his shoes and then I’d pointed out that his salmon shirt complemented the broken veins in his cheeks.
He was never comfortable out of his black uniform, bless, but every summer he made the effort to ‘Marbella-rize’ his wardrobe.
‘I don’t think there’s much of a slave trade in the south of Spain, dear,’ pressed Maddie. But seeing that Parker was about to throw another wobbler, I calmed the situation by saying, ‘Yes, but there’s hundreds of dangerous pimps’ and signalled to her to shut up.
As we boarded the 3.30p.m. Aer Lingus flight to Malaga, there were plenty of familiar faces also going out for some sun, sand, sea and sex.
To me, Marbella and Puerto Banus always felt like an extra suburb of Dublin, as there were so many Irish with property there. Sadly, many of them couldn’t give away the apartments and villas that they had invested in in the nineties – even if they threw in lifetime golf club membership or an around the clock live-in hooker, but, either way, it was still considered flash.
There were so many recognizable faces there that it was impossible to book a spray tan or a hair appointment without bumping into half the regulars of the Haven.
Normally I would have been there already to hang out and flirt with the rich Type2 boys from Dublin, who tell their girlfriends and wives that they’re just away on golfing trips. But since I had been out of work for ever, this June bank holiday weekend was my first chance at summer lovin’.
By now, Maddie was four months pregnant, but being such a skinny bitch she was defying nature and still had no signs of a baby bump. She also hadn’t suffered any nausea. I was the one who had started to feel sick – at the fact that she was still slimmer than me.
But today we were looking for devilment as we took our seats on the plane and scanned for possible playmates. Things were looking miserable as the seats filled up with couples, but then four Hulk-like fellas bounced their way through the aisle, knocking against passengers with their large carry-on rucksacks, and banging into lockers with their bulky shoulders and cauliflower ears.
‘Check out the rugby players,’ squealed Maddie, totally forgetful of her mumsie state and how unacceptable it is to consider sex with a bloke while pregnant with another man’s baby.
‘They’re farmers,’ moaned Parker. ‘Redneck, culchie hick farmers.’
Now, usually Parker would have been horny looking at such a posse, but since he was ‘in love’ with Jeff, he was very much the devoted boyfriend.
Although ‘Hairy hole’, as Maddie had renamed him, wasn’t coming with us to Parker’s family villa, he would be joining us in seven days, which gave us one week to listen to Parker complaining.
Whilst the fact that Parker had become a one-man man and was utterly faithful to Jeff was wonderful, there was nothing fabulous about his mood when his boy was out of town. Think Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction and you’d be able to imagine what sort of nightmare Parker had become when he couldn’t be with his lover. Obsessing about Jeff had become a constant hobby.
‘Jeff would never eat avocado – they’re far too fattening.’ Or, ‘Jeff prefers Liquid Silk to KY Jelly because it’s not as sticky’ or, ‘Jeff hates Victoria Beckham because she reminds him of an old trannie he used to secretly date!’
His prattling was as endless as it was pointless. But we were his friends and he was allowed to be annoying occasionally. And the fact that he was bankrolling my social life was another good reason to humour him. Yes, just as Lisa had cleared up her bout of verbal Wildean diarrhoea, Parker started spewing the Jeff Alexander guide to a perfect life.
On reflection, I supposed I had bored everyone long enough about my phantom photographer boyfriend, so it was my turn to be patient. But just because Parker wasn’t in the mood to be mischievous didn’t mean that Maddie and I had to play vestal virgins.
She was single – although secretly knocked-up – while my love life was complex, to say the least. Although Robert and I had made up after our little tête-à-tête at my birthday, things had never been the same. Occasionally we’d ring each other for a bootie call, but although it would act as the perfect stress relief as required, our partnership was never to progress further than the purely functional.
As for Luscious Lucy, as she was now named in my phone, well, I still didn’t understand where we stood.
I had apparently snogged her several times in as many months, but had only vague recollections of each encounter. Copious amounts of alcohol was always part of our mating ritual.
It turned out the doe-eyed beauty had a young prince of her own, and although he’d once said that he thought it was arousing that she liked to kiss other girls, in reality it just made him jealous, which was very understandable.
Through a drunken haze I remember the last time she placed her lips on mine, as it resulted in a rapturous round of applause …
* * *
It was on the dance floor of Sophie’s Choice and Lucy had been dancing with her equally cute boyfriend when Parker and I cosied up next to them as bold as brass.
A complete minx herself, her naughty switch flicked on the second she saw us, as she promptly started shaking her ass with some sexy Shakira moves to tease me.
I can still picture her leaning over her boyfriend’s shoulder and whispering, ‘You look hot’, while giving me a wink.
Brazen was the only way you could describe this chick. And it was hard not to adore her, which I did tremendously.
As far as I could recall, her fella took the hump with her not-too-subtle flirting, and marched off the dance floor leaving the three of us happy to compete in an erotic dance-off.
Thrilled with ourselves we strutted and gyrated like we were Rihanna dancing under her ‘Um-ber-ella!’ But after some over-amorous twists from Lucy and myself Parker declared, ‘Gooseberry ain’t my colour’ and went off to find devilment with Jeff.
As soon as we were left to play on our own, we became sandwiched together like magnets. Spinning in circles and performing like contestants on Dancing with the Stars, we owned the room and no one else existed. Despite being petite Lucy’s grasps were firm, and with her arms snugly around my waist I felt bulletproof.
Laughing and flirting, grooving and swirling, we ripped up the dance floor and refused anyone else space in our drink-induced fantasy. Unable to control ourselves we started to kiss right in the middle of the dance floor … passionately.
We shared
a magical moment, as her sweet tongue rolled around in my mouth and her hands gave my hips a tight squeeze.
All I was aware of was her strawberry lip-balm and the hint of coconut that left her long flowing hair as I fingered it.
When the song changed to a more hardcore dance track, we pulled back from our kiss and stared straight into each other’s eyes, smiling like Cheshire cats. I was just about to tell her how much I’d like to get naked with her when a large cheer came from the direction of the bar. Automatically we turned, to see a gang of six lads cheering and clapping at us.
‘Great show,’ one of them shouted. ‘Don’t stop now,’ cheered another.
If we’d been sober we probably would have been mortified, but we weren’t, so we fell about laughing and cheekily took a bow.
The next thing I remember was Lucy’s boyfriend taking her by the hand and manhandling her down the stairs of the club with her jacket and handbag over his shoulder. That was a couple of weeks ago, and I haven’t seen her since.
Although she still very much occupies my thoughts I’ve thought it best to leave well alone. I wanted and needed a boyfriend and a protector. As much fun as Lucy was, no man would ever consider taking me on if I spent my Saturday nights kissing girls. Well, except a pervy one, and I didn’t want to end up with a swinger. The city was full of them, but that was not the type of life I had dreamt about as a young or grown-up girl.
After waking up with the fear of what I’d done, I’d stayed away from clubs in case I was recognized for my lesbian exhibition.
Today, I was sitting on a plane, which officially meant I was on holiday. It was a break away from guilt and the harsh reality of my failure in life. And now that I had locked four eligible hunks in my radar and had smuggled several snipes of Moët in my hand luggage for myself, it was time to let the party games begin.
Clearly up for a bit of boldness we received several loud, ‘How-si-goin?’ before the hunks finished shoving their bags into the overhead lockers.
Maddie was just about to go down and introduce herself to the lads when a very matron-like hostess told everyone to take their seats. So instead she did what she always did on planes: took out some paper and started to write a note.
Champagne Kisses Page 16
