dark in front of him, her with a stemmed glass of clear liquid with a sliver of lemon drowning beneath the surface.
‘You’re late,’ she said and squinted up at me, taking in my latest follicular disaster.
‘Sorry …’ I let my voice tail off. ‘Was someone with you?’
To the right of her sat an empty pint glass, the foam still mobile on the inside, suggesting that it’d recently been finished. Her own glass had trickles of condensation running down the outside, her sauv blanc still icy cold.
Her eyes flicked to the right and she blinked a couple of times. I could always tell when Claire was about to tell me a lie. We joked about it. Sang the Eagles song about the lying eyes. I didn’t feel like singing it then, though; I felt a strange uneasiness.
‘Jake was here. You just missed him.’
Who else .
‘Hmm. It’s almost as if you magic him away when I appear. How do you do that, Claire?’ I hadn’t meant for it to come out nastily, but when I played it back in my head, I realised it sounded bitter. As far as Claire was concerned, I had no interest in Jake, and the feeling was mutual. He was just the boy from across the road who, for some reason, she’d taken a shine to. Or maybe it was the other way round. Claire was good at collecting waifs and strays. Maybe I had more in common with Jake than I thought.
She opened her mouth to say something just as Gary the barman appeared. He slid a Belhaven Best mat towards me and placed my pint of Strongbow on top. Claire smiled at him and he walked off, stopping on his way past the teenagers to scoop up the ripped pile of beer mats they’d left at the edge of the table.
Claire took a sip of her wine.
I sat down. ‘What were you going to say?’
She sighed. ‘Doesn’t matter. How are you, Jo?’
I gazed at her and smiled. She looked lovely, as usual, her blonde hair twisted up neatly at the back of her head. She put her glass back down on her mat and the soft chiffon of her blouse rustled with the movement. I glanced down at my own scruffy outfit and felt grubby. I probably didn’t smell too fresh either, compared with Claire and her characteristic floral scent. She stared at me across the table and her eyes shone in that way that they did when she wasn’t really there.
When people met Claire for the first time they’d be forgiven for thinking there was nothing wrong with her. It was only occasionally, when it happened like this: when the light changed behind her eyes, like someone had flipped a switch. Then before you knew it, she’d blink, and she’d be back and her eyes would say silently, Now, where was I? I rarely noticed it any more.
‘So Scott dumped me,’ I said.
She blinked. Came back. ‘Yeah. God, that’s shitty, Jo. I thought things were going well. Didn’t you say you’d talked about getting engaged later this year?’
I picked up my pint and downed half of it in one. ‘Hmm. Yeah. I really don’t know, to be honest. I mean, he’d been a bit odd for a while, now that I think about it.’
‘Odd, how?’
‘Oh, you know. Distant. Like he had something to tell me but he didn’t know how to. I reckon there might be someone else …’
‘The prick! Who?’
‘Well, he didn’t actually say there was someone else, but … I don’t know. Really. I mean, what else could it be? I was still giving him BJs …’
Claire laughed. ‘So oral sex is the gauge of a relationship now, is it? Did you read that in Cosmo or something?’ She shook her head. ‘You’re priceless, you know.’
I stared at her. ‘I wasn’t joking. Don’t you do that with Jake? I mean, it’s probably one of the easiest things you can do, what with—’
She gave me a filthy look and I stopped talking. Fucking hell, Jo. You do say the most inappropriate things sometimes .
‘I’m going to the toilet,’ she said. ‘You should get yourself another drink. I’m fine with this one.’
She moved as she spoke, sliding her way along the wooden bench
‘You’re late,’ she said and squinted up at me, taking in my latest follicular disaster.
‘Sorry …’ I let my voice tail off. ‘Was someone with you?’
To the right of her sat an empty pint glass, the foam still mobile on the inside, suggesting that it’d recently been finished. Her own glass had trickles of condensation running down the outside, her sauv blanc still icy cold.
Her eyes flicked to the right and she blinked a couple of times. I could always tell when Claire was about to tell me a lie. We joked about it. Sang the Eagles song about the lying eyes. I didn’t feel like singing it then, though; I felt a strange uneasiness.
‘Jake was here. You just missed him.’
Who else .
‘Hmm. It’s almost as if you magic him away when I appear. How do you do that, Claire?’ I hadn’t meant for it to come out nastily, but when I played it back in my head, I realised it sounded bitter. As far as Claire was concerned, I had no interest in Jake, and the feeling was mutual. He was just the boy from across the road who, for some reason, she’d taken a shine to. Or maybe it was the other way round. Claire was good at collecting waifs and strays. Maybe I had more in common with Jake than I thought.
She opened her mouth to say something just as Gary the barman appeared. He slid a Belhaven Best mat towards me and placed my pint of Strongbow on top. Claire smiled at him and he walked off, stopping on his way past the teenagers to scoop up the ripped pile of beer mats they’d left at the edge of the table.
Claire took a sip of her wine.
I sat down. ‘What were you going to say?’
She sighed. ‘Doesn’t matter. How are you, Jo?’
I gazed at her and smiled. She looked lovely, as usual, her blonde hair twisted up neatly at the back of her head. She put her glass back down on her mat and the soft chiffon of her blouse rustled with the movement. I glanced down at my own scruffy outfit and felt grubby. I probably didn’t smell too fresh either, compared with Claire and her characteristic floral scent. She stared at me across the table and her eyes shone in that way that they did when she wasn’t really there.
When people met Claire for the first time they’d be forgiven for thinking there was nothing wrong with her. It was only occasionally, when it happened like this: when the light changed behind her eyes, like someone had flipped a switch. Then before you knew it, she’d blink, and she’d be back and her eyes would say silently, Now, where was I? I rarely noticed it any more.
‘So Scott dumped me,’ I said.
She blinked. Came back. ‘Yeah. God, that’s shitty, Jo. I thought things were going well. Didn’t you say you’d talked about getting engaged later this year?’
I picked up my pint and downed half of it in one. ‘Hmm. Yeah. I really don’t know, to be honest. I mean, he’d been a bit odd for a while, now that I think about it.’
‘Odd, how?’
‘Oh, you know. Distant. Like he had something to tell me but he didn’t know how to. I reckon there might be someone else …’
‘The prick! Who?’
‘Well, he didn’t actually say there was someone else, but … I don’t know. Really. I mean, what else could it be? I was still giving him BJs …’
Claire laughed. ‘So oral sex is the gauge of a relationship now, is it? Did you read that in Cosmo or something?’ She shook her head. ‘You’re priceless, you know.’
I stared at her. ‘I wasn’t joking. Don’t you do that with Jake? I mean, it’s probably one of the easiest things you can do, what with—’
She gave me a filthy look and I stopped talking. Fucking hell, Jo. You do say the most inappropriate things sometimes .
‘I’m going to the toilet,’ she said. ‘You should get yourself another drink. I’m fine with this one.’
She moved as she spoke, sliding her way along the wooden bench
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