self-satisfied look from her side of the table, confirming Dan’s suspicions about what she was up to.
‘I see you’re ready for another!’ Steve grabbed Dan’s glass and had dived into the crowd before he could protest.
This night was shaping up to be a very long one.
Friday Night, 11 pm
Several hours later, Dan sat fuzzy-headed over a Jalfrezi, trying to persuade some of it onto a keema nan. It was proving extremely hard.
He gave up on that for a moment and took a sip of his beer. Cobra. At least he could taste it, it was built for curry.
Alongside him Martin was arguing about football with Steve, the former being on the Blue side of the city, the latter the Red. Martin was teasing Steve about his team’s American owners and the mountain of debt they had brought with them whilst Steve was taunting City about being a Sheik’s plaything that he would soon tire of. Dan had heard it all before, countless times and neither argument had got more or less convincing with age.
They had lost Craig somewhere on route to here. No one seemed to know where or how.
Meanwhile Hannah and Grieg had argued about something at some point in between leaving the last bar and arriving at the Indian and, even through his alcoholic glow, Dan could feel the frost his colleague was giving off.
On Dan’s right was Jenny. She had reached a stage of drunkenness that was rambling, slurring and very, very friendly.
‘You’re a really lovely guy, you know that Dan, really lovely,’ she said running her hand up and down his thigh under the table, so high up indeed that his knee jerked and made the plates jump off the tablecloth. ‘You know I think you’re really, really so lovely. Han…HAN!’
She banged her other hand on the table to get Hannah’s attention.
‘Dan’s a lovely guy isn’t he?’ She was more demanding an agreement rather than asking a question.
‘Yes, Jen, he’s gorgeous,’ said Hannah giving Dan a slightly sympathetic smile.
Jenny banged the table more angrily, making a knife jump onto the floor. ‘Wha’ you say that for? You keep your eyes off him!’ she pointed a finger threateningly at her friend who raised her hands in mock surrender.
‘Take him, he’s yours. I’ve got my own pain in the ass to deal with, thanks.’ She said.
‘Good, you remember that,’ said Jenny, burping loudly, ‘scuse me,’ she said, ‘he’s mine.’
‘Don’t I get a say in this?’ Dan protested.
‘No,’ said Jenny, ‘Hannah’s right, you need someone to make your mind up for you.’ She threw her arm around his neck and pulled him towards her lips. He found himself being kissed fiercely amidst the cheers of Martin and Steve. Jenny broke off for air, smiled, then said loudly, ‘I really need shagging now,’ before closing her eyes and sliding surprisingly gracefully under the table.
‘Oh dear, poor Jen,’ sighed Hannah, ‘She has this funny thing with drink. One below her limit and she’s fine and sweet, one over she’s briefly a slut and then it’s over and out. We’d better get our bill and get her home. Won’t we Greg?’ she added in a tone that brooked no argument.
Ten minutes later they were out in the street. Jenny, propped up between Greg and Hannah was looking extremely white. They said their goodbyes, Dan easily resisting Martin and Boris’s urging to go onto a club.
The cool of the night air cleared Dan’s head a little, so much so that he decided not to take a taxi but to walk back to his flat instead. It was a nice night and it would only take him about 40 minutes. He could definitely do with the exercise.
He had been going perhaps ten of those minutes when he began to feel uneasy. He noticed a prickly feeling on the back of his neck. He became certain that there was someone following him. Involuntarily he found himself checking his wallet even though he remembered being told that this was something that you shouldn’t do; it showed any mugger that you had cash and just
‘I see you’re ready for another!’ Steve grabbed Dan’s glass and had dived into the crowd before he could protest.
This night was shaping up to be a very long one.
Friday Night, 11 pm
Several hours later, Dan sat fuzzy-headed over a Jalfrezi, trying to persuade some of it onto a keema nan. It was proving extremely hard.
He gave up on that for a moment and took a sip of his beer. Cobra. At least he could taste it, it was built for curry.
Alongside him Martin was arguing about football with Steve, the former being on the Blue side of the city, the latter the Red. Martin was teasing Steve about his team’s American owners and the mountain of debt they had brought with them whilst Steve was taunting City about being a Sheik’s plaything that he would soon tire of. Dan had heard it all before, countless times and neither argument had got more or less convincing with age.
They had lost Craig somewhere on route to here. No one seemed to know where or how.
Meanwhile Hannah and Grieg had argued about something at some point in between leaving the last bar and arriving at the Indian and, even through his alcoholic glow, Dan could feel the frost his colleague was giving off.
On Dan’s right was Jenny. She had reached a stage of drunkenness that was rambling, slurring and very, very friendly.
‘You’re a really lovely guy, you know that Dan, really lovely,’ she said running her hand up and down his thigh under the table, so high up indeed that his knee jerked and made the plates jump off the tablecloth. ‘You know I think you’re really, really so lovely. Han…HAN!’
She banged her other hand on the table to get Hannah’s attention.
‘Dan’s a lovely guy isn’t he?’ She was more demanding an agreement rather than asking a question.
‘Yes, Jen, he’s gorgeous,’ said Hannah giving Dan a slightly sympathetic smile.
Jenny banged the table more angrily, making a knife jump onto the floor. ‘Wha’ you say that for? You keep your eyes off him!’ she pointed a finger threateningly at her friend who raised her hands in mock surrender.
‘Take him, he’s yours. I’ve got my own pain in the ass to deal with, thanks.’ She said.
‘Good, you remember that,’ said Jenny, burping loudly, ‘scuse me,’ she said, ‘he’s mine.’
‘Don’t I get a say in this?’ Dan protested.
‘No,’ said Jenny, ‘Hannah’s right, you need someone to make your mind up for you.’ She threw her arm around his neck and pulled him towards her lips. He found himself being kissed fiercely amidst the cheers of Martin and Steve. Jenny broke off for air, smiled, then said loudly, ‘I really need shagging now,’ before closing her eyes and sliding surprisingly gracefully under the table.
‘Oh dear, poor Jen,’ sighed Hannah, ‘She has this funny thing with drink. One below her limit and she’s fine and sweet, one over she’s briefly a slut and then it’s over and out. We’d better get our bill and get her home. Won’t we Greg?’ she added in a tone that brooked no argument.
Ten minutes later they were out in the street. Jenny, propped up between Greg and Hannah was looking extremely white. They said their goodbyes, Dan easily resisting Martin and Boris’s urging to go onto a club.
The cool of the night air cleared Dan’s head a little, so much so that he decided not to take a taxi but to walk back to his flat instead. It was a nice night and it would only take him about 40 minutes. He could definitely do with the exercise.
He had been going perhaps ten of those minutes when he began to feel uneasy. He noticed a prickly feeling on the back of his neck. He became certain that there was someone following him. Involuntarily he found himself checking his wallet even though he remembered being told that this was something that you shouldn’t do; it showed any mugger that you had cash and just
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