Read Online Out Late with Friends and Regrets by Suzanne Egerton - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Suzanne Egerton
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delicious, and helped soak up the next bottle. Both women were now experiencing that delightful sense of reduced responsibility that follows tipsy but precedes plastered; and when Ellie took Fin’s hand and suggested they go down to the disco, it seemed like a really good idea.
Desiree was playing delightful old cheesy pops, in between newer indie and club tracks, and the two danced indiscriminately to everything, both the hip-shakers and the cheek-to-cheekers. There was some minor scuffling in determining who should lead during the latter, and consequently several random changes of direction, resulting in unexpected collisions. The other dancers were a pick ‘n’ mix of male and female, and sexual frontiers appeared to be fairly fluid. Ellie bought mineral water at the bar, and they drank and sweated liberally by turns, in between their exertions on the dance floor. Then the karaoke book came round, and Ellie scribbled on one of the slips without examining the selection.
The coloured splinters and spots of light strobing the darkness in great sweeps were just beginning to make Fin’s eyes twitch, when Desiree announced:
“OK, folks, it’s karaoke time! Kickin’ us aff the night, are two delectable divas ah know yir jist gonnae love. Wi’ a crackin’ rendition o’ ‘Sisters are daein’ it fer themsels’ – an’ in’t that the truth, gairls, ye dairty wee things – puh-leese pit yer hauns thegither f’ the newsome twosome, Ellie and Fin, YEAHHHH!”
They stumbled towards the dais, laughing and cursing as the applause and catcalls rolled around them, and took the twin mikes. It was Fin’s first karaoke, and she stood grinning into the shifting mass, wondering when to start, until Ellie took hold of her shoulders and turned her round bodily to see the screen. She actually had a powerful voice which could hold a tune, but found even a familiar number could have tricky bits that memory failed to anticipate. However, her small inaccuracies were overcome by sheer, uninhibited enthusiasm not unconnected with alcohol intake, and by Ellie’s impassioned but tuneless bellow.
They left the stage clutching each other and almost incontinent with laughter, and with the audience roaring approval.
If ever a night should last forever, thought Fin with the few unaffected brain cells still functioning, this was it.
CHAPTER 6
The rest of the night could indeed have lasted for ever, for all Fin could remember of it. Blips of colour, snatches of conversation, a particularly abandoned ‘Dancing Queen’… The breathtaking rush of air outside the bar, dazzling patches of reflected orange on parked cars, the sensation of gritty concrete against her chin as she knelt against a low wall, vomiting over it, God knows where… Ellie urging, “Come on, babe, stay with it Fin,” in her ear… A pavement that seemed to heave upwards under her feet…
And now, the feel of cool linen on her naked limbs. She was in bed, a big bed, lying on her back. And alone. Clearly nobody else in the bed, as she gingerly reached for its edges with hands and feet. She risked opening one eye. White ceiling, grey metal light fitting, unlit. She opened the other eye, only to see the ceiling make a slow, anti-clockwise revolution.
“Morning!”
Ellie’s voice.
“It’s OK,” it continued, “you’ve not been violated, I slept on the sofa.”
“Hello, is it me?” enquired Fin, trying to regain focus.
“Yep, ‘fraid so,” replied Ellie, “and if I may say so, you look quite foul. What we both need is a damned good breakfast and a game of squash.”
Fin felt that, on the whole, she would rather curl up cosily in the path of a number seven bus; but nevertheless heroically levered herself into a sitting position, accompanied by an extended, involuntary moan.
“Come on, you great wooss,” urged Ellie, a good deal too heartily, “d’you think you’re the only dyke in the history of
Desiree was playing delightful old cheesy pops, in between newer indie and club tracks, and the two danced indiscriminately to everything, both the hip-shakers and the cheek-to-cheekers. There was some minor scuffling in determining who should lead during the latter, and consequently several random changes of direction, resulting in unexpected collisions. The other dancers were a pick ‘n’ mix of male and female, and sexual frontiers appeared to be fairly fluid. Ellie bought mineral water at the bar, and they drank and sweated liberally by turns, in between their exertions on the dance floor. Then the karaoke book came round, and Ellie scribbled on one of the slips without examining the selection.
The coloured splinters and spots of light strobing the darkness in great sweeps were just beginning to make Fin’s eyes twitch, when Desiree announced:
“OK, folks, it’s karaoke time! Kickin’ us aff the night, are two delectable divas ah know yir jist gonnae love. Wi’ a crackin’ rendition o’ ‘Sisters are daein’ it fer themsels’ – an’ in’t that the truth, gairls, ye dairty wee things – puh-leese pit yer hauns thegither f’ the newsome twosome, Ellie and Fin, YEAHHHH!”
They stumbled towards the dais, laughing and cursing as the applause and catcalls rolled around them, and took the twin mikes. It was Fin’s first karaoke, and she stood grinning into the shifting mass, wondering when to start, until Ellie took hold of her shoulders and turned her round bodily to see the screen. She actually had a powerful voice which could hold a tune, but found even a familiar number could have tricky bits that memory failed to anticipate. However, her small inaccuracies were overcome by sheer, uninhibited enthusiasm not unconnected with alcohol intake, and by Ellie’s impassioned but tuneless bellow.
They left the stage clutching each other and almost incontinent with laughter, and with the audience roaring approval.
If ever a night should last forever, thought Fin with the few unaffected brain cells still functioning, this was it.
CHAPTER 6
The rest of the night could indeed have lasted for ever, for all Fin could remember of it. Blips of colour, snatches of conversation, a particularly abandoned ‘Dancing Queen’… The breathtaking rush of air outside the bar, dazzling patches of reflected orange on parked cars, the sensation of gritty concrete against her chin as she knelt against a low wall, vomiting over it, God knows where… Ellie urging, “Come on, babe, stay with it Fin,” in her ear… A pavement that seemed to heave upwards under her feet…
And now, the feel of cool linen on her naked limbs. She was in bed, a big bed, lying on her back. And alone. Clearly nobody else in the bed, as she gingerly reached for its edges with hands and feet. She risked opening one eye. White ceiling, grey metal light fitting, unlit. She opened the other eye, only to see the ceiling make a slow, anti-clockwise revolution.
“Morning!”
Ellie’s voice.
“It’s OK,” it continued, “you’ve not been violated, I slept on the sofa.”
“Hello, is it me?” enquired Fin, trying to regain focus.
“Yep, ‘fraid so,” replied Ellie, “and if I may say so, you look quite foul. What we both need is a damned good breakfast and a game of squash.”
Fin felt that, on the whole, she would rather curl up cosily in the path of a number seven bus; but nevertheless heroically levered herself into a sitting position, accompanied by an extended, involuntary moan.
“Come on, you great wooss,” urged Ellie, a good deal too heartily, “d’you think you’re the only dyke in the history of
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