Authors: Clare Lydon
Her attention shifted back to Darren and Stu who were having a mutely animated conversation and looking down into their laps. She fixed her focus, then saw Darren get up and go to the loo while giving Stu a conspiratorial wink. He returned, sat down next to Stu and like a professional tag-team, Stu seamlessly made his trip to the bathroom look routine and anything but a cocaine-run.
Stu motioned to Kat as he passed her and she nodded. He gave her a wink and sauntered towards the loo, his long legs encased in jeans, his blue T-shirt sitting just-so on his torso. Within a minute Stu was out and approached Kat at the bar.
“Not coming to sit back down with us?” Stu’s eyes never left Kat’s face as their hands grazed each other’s and Kat took the tiny package.
Kat’s heart raced a little faster as it always did when she was carrying Class A drugs.
“Will do after this,” she told Stu, licking her lips.
“Same again?” he asked as she walked past him, brushing his shoulder.
“Why not?”
Kat pushed open the door to the ladies which she imagined had once been a brilliant shade of white but now had peeling paint with a mass of smudged grey fingerprints. The toilets were strip-lit and all three were empty – Kat chose the cubicle on the right.
She rolled a note, shook out some powder onto the top of the cistern, flushed the toilet and with the noise of the flush in her ears, snorted her line, chasing the runaway flecks to finish. She stood, performed a final power-sniff and flushed the toilet again before stepping back into the light as if nothing ever happened. Whoever perpetuated the myth that drugs were glamorous had clearly never done them off the top of toilets like most people Kat knew.
She stepped up to the sink and washed her hands, studying her face in the mirror. She had lines where there were none three months ago, she was sure of it.
The door opened and Stevie walked in. She was dressed in denim dungarees but, strangely, she managed to pull it off. It wasn’t a trick that everyone could manage.
Stevie smiled widely but Kat’s response was too slow.
“You okay, lovely?” Stevie asked, putting an arm around Kat’s waist.
“Just looking at my wrinkles – this is what nearly 40 looks like.”
Stevie kissed her shoulder. “All in the mind – you look gorgeous.” She jigged from foot to foot. “Gotta go, I’m bursting.” Stevie pushed into the middle cubicle.
Kat heard Stevie unclick her buckles, so turned on the tap to mingle the sounds. She felt the coke sinking down from her nostrils to her throat, felt her front teeth going numb, was comforted by the familiar sensation. Cocaine was what had kept her going at her former job – that and the energy drinks. To use it now as a recreational drug rather than a means to stay awake seemed almost decadent.
Kat added some more lipstick, air-kissed herself in the mirror and then, with chemical confidence beginning to thump through her veins, strode back into the pub.
Eyes Wide Shut
Vic could tell that Kat was close to the edge when she saw her parading across the pub on her way back from the toilets. Her eyes looked wider, her stride longer, her smirk firmly in place.
Stu was getting more drinks at the bar and she chatted to him briefly as she passed. Kat sank a half pint of cider in the blink of an eye, then immediately grasped another full one. Kat turned to Abby to see if she’d registered the scene, but for the first time this weekend her girlfriend seemed to have dropped the reins and was in deep conversation with Darren.
Or rather, Darren was talking at Abby.
Kat walked back and plonked herself down next to Abby, putting her arm around her and giving her a sloppy kiss on the cheek as she did.
Darren grinned at Kat, his cheeks all Chablis splotch, his eyes alight with cocaine glitter.
“The mystery solved!” Abby told Kat, kissing her on the lips.
Kat wobbled slightly on her stool, then
grinned.
“Mystery?” Kat tried to raise an eyebrow, but only succeeding in grimacing slightly.
“The mystery of the missing girlfriend.”
“Just been at the bar chatting to Stu, shooting the breeze.” Kat smiled through her eyes, slid one way and nearly fell off her stool.
Abby held out an arm to steady her. “You okay?” she asked, bringing her head level with Kat.
Kat nodded obediently.
It was plain to see she was anything but.
***
Stevie and Stu arrived back at the table together, handing out drinks to everyone and then taking up their positions. Drinks refreshed meant another round of cheers for the group and then, with everyone sitting down, conversation went retro.
“What would our university selves say about us if they could see us now?” Stevie ran her hand through her short blonde hair.
“I think they’d be impressed we were out when we’re
this old
,” Vic laughed, stroking her wife’s back.
“They’d be impressed we could afford it, too – dinner and drinks. We forgot to drink a bottle of Martini before we left the house, though,” Stevie added.
“You used to do that?” Tash asked, eyes wide. Not having been to university, she wasn’t as up to speed with their previous drinking antics, although she’d heard tale of a few.
“Oh my God, I’d completely forgotten about the Martini!” Laura screwed up her face. “How on earth did our livers survive? We’re all walking miracles of modern science to be here today.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Stevie beamed round the table. “If you’d shown me this picture 20 years ago, I’d have been ecstatic.”
Tash laughed and not for the first time, she wished she’d known this group earlier in her life – not only to stop her marrying Simon, but also to understand who she was in such a supportive environment. She was glad she’d met them all eventually, though – she counted them all as her friends after five years with Laura and, she hoped, many more to come. In fact, she was even thinking about proposing to Laura now it was legal.
“Never mind 20 years ago. If the stories I’ve heard about ten years ago are correct, then we need to get this party started!” Darren clapped his hands together.
Tash couldn’t wait to hear more stories, but clocked the look of alarm on Stu’s face.
“Babe…” Stu began.
Darren talked over him. “I mean, Vic and Stevie shag for the first time, Kat and Laura shag – who’s going to be the naughty one tonight? I vote for either me or perhaps Geri if they have to be single.” Darren glanced at Stu, grinning.
Stu simply stared, then put his drink down on the table as quietly as he could. He was trying to stay calm but panic was seeping into his facial features.
Tash frowned. Hang on, what had Darren just said? Kat and Laura?
Her
Laura? Tash looked around the table and saw minds whirring, foreheads frowning, heads twisting, daggers flashing.
Vic was the first to speak, clearly going for the damage limitation option. “I remember ten years ago very well and yes, it was the start of something amazing for both of us. I hope this weekend is too.” Vic didn’t dare look to her right where Laura, Tash, Kat and Abby were sitting.
“Darren, you’re a complete fuckwit.” Laura’s tone could cut slate.
“Yeah – that was well out of order,” Kat slurred.
Tash was looking confused. “Did he just say what I think he said?” She looked from Darren, to Laura and then back to Kat. Once, twice, three times. Tash furrowed her brow and focused her attention on Laura.
“
You and Kat?”
Tash moved her index finger between the two, pendulum-like. “Since when, you and Kat?”
Laura raised her eyebrows to the ceiling. “It was a drunken mistake.
Ten
years ago. It was
nothing
.”
Kat looked disgruntled at this description, but said nothing.
Darren, with exquisite timing, chose this moment to wade back in. “Oh come on, lesbians, let’s not get dramatic – it was ten years ago! Ten years! You’re all happily married now, so who cares?” Darren put his palms on his thighs and looked around the table. Still grinning.
Stu took the opportunity to back him up. “Exactly! Who cares what happened ten years ago? We’re all adults now in happy, healthy relationships after all.” His voice was sing-song. It was a long shot to style this one out, but he had to give it a try.
“I can’t fucking believe this,” Tash said, massaging the bridge of her nose, her brain now flooding with images she didn’t want to entertain. Perhaps hearing more stories was a bad idea after all. If Tash had a headache before, it’d just quadrupled in size. A marching band was tap-dancing on her brain, a team of builders hammering behind her eyes. “
Kat? You fucked Kat
?”
Tash glared at Laura. She needed some air, to get out of this group. She needed to breathe. She scraped her chair back and her head nearly exploded with the movement. She heard Laura say her name as she left but she didn’t look back. She passed the group of power couples, passed a couple having a steak and the risotto with a bottle of wine, passed the group of upmarket pensioners by the door enjoying their Saturday night.
As she reached the door she felt a presence behind her and turned around. Laura was standing not three inches from her, looking freaked. Part of Tash wanted to cup Laura’s face, to tell her it would all be fine – and she really hoped it would be. But right now, Tash didn’t want to look at her, didn’t want to be the only one not in on the secret. She put a hand on Laura’s chest and pushed firmly.
“Not now,” she said. “Just… leave me. Go back, reminisce some more and work out if there are any other secrets you need to get off your chest.”
Tash knew it was harsh, she knew it was in the past, but if it meant nothing, then why not tell her? That was the question playing on her mind.
***
Laura stood back and watched the pub door slam in her face. Were her eyes spinning in their sockets? It seemed possible right now. She was floating up and outside of her body, looking down on the wreckage of this situation, assessing the damage. She looked down to her arms, her legs, her torso, her feet – all still there. She was 50% giddy, 50% disbelief. This must be happening to someone else.
Laura focused on getting herself back into the present. Her spirit fused back into her body and then the music was turned back up and blood flowed through her system, crashing into her ears. Colours that had been on 10% now slid up to full hue, edges sharpened, as objects whizzed back into their three-dimensional realm.
Voices and laughter flooded her reality – apparently it was only her world that had just stopped. She picked up her feet which turned out to be not as leaden as she believed and twisted back to her group, who’d already lost interest and were chatting among themselves.
Pulp’s Misfits was playing. Tash disliked Pulp – said that all 90s Britpop was overrated rubbish. It was an argument they’d had many times and had now agreed to disagree. But Tash wasn’t here right now. She’d run off into the night TV drama-style, so Laura could enjoy Pulp in this instant without any sly looks or justification. All around her the volume got louder with laughter piercing the air, glass banging against wood, lights burning.
Stevie was first to react, seeing her approach. She got up and gave her a hug. “You okay, sweetie?”
The table looked up at Laura expectantly.
Darren couldn’t quite hold Laura’s gaze.
Kat couldn’t either but that was because she was drunk already.
“Peachy,” Laura said.
“Has she left?” Stevie asked.
“Yep. Told me not to come after her. Well done, Darren, good work.” Laura spat the final few words Darren’s way.
In a game display of chivalry, Stu rode to his man’s rescue. “Leave it out,” he said. “I know he shouldn’t have said it, but he didn’t know it was being kept under wraps.”
Stu paused as Stevie put a consolatory arm around Laura’s shoulders. “Sit down, babe, have a drink and then we can all go and find Tash. Just give her a bit of time to cool off first. Agreed?”
Laura’s face ran through a gamut of emotions: punch, kick, slap, concede. She went with the last option seeing as it was the most pub- and friendship-friendly, letting Stevie guide her body to her seat and handing her a drink.
“Did she say where she was going?” Stu asked.
“She wasn’t really in the mood to chat,” Laura snapped. She still wanted to punch Darren but he’d slipped off somewhere, already departed the scene of the crime.
Stu was sitting with a smile on his face, jigging his knee up and down, drumming his fingers on the table top.
“Well, it’s either the house or the beach. If I was feeling particularly dramatic I’d choose the beach. Did she seem dramatic?” Stu asked.
Laura ignored him for now and took another swig of her beer.
Darren returned from the toilet and touched Kat’s hand.
She wobbled as she got up, drained her pint and headed to the toilet. When Kat returned, Abby chastised her for buying more cider.
However, Kat simply grinned loosely, as if the wires in her face had been cut and then restrung by a team of cowboy builders, lop-sided and off-kilter.
Kat was high and drunk, the exact combination she and Laura had managed ten years previously when they’d ended the night fucking each other at odd angles. It was the last time Laura had taken drugs. She was sure neither of them came, that they probably fell asleep before that happened. If the awkwardness of the morning after was anything to go by, Laura was sure the sex had been a disaster.
Right now, though, Kat was headed for the same outcome she always got, performing the same circus routine they’d all come to know. Ten years ago it still seemed funny because to some extent, they were all still at it. Now, it just seemed a bit tired, faded, sepia.
Now, it made Laura want to punch her.
***
Geri propped herself on a stool at the bar, her trainer slipping off the foot-rail as she steadied herself, catching the side of her ankle. A hot stab of pain shot up her body and she grasped the bar’s shiny golden handrail, wincing.
“Everything okay?” TJ was refilling glasses from the dishwasher.
Geri gave TJ her best Gallic shrug. “Yeah – just some lesbian dramas.”