25. Present Day – New Year’s Eve
25
PRESENT DAY – NEW YEAR’S EVE
SCOTT
T he clock says it’s twenty to midnight and, credit to Nate and my faithful locals, the vibe is great.
The pub hasn’t been this busy for a while. If ever, actually. And everyone seems to be having a great time, probably thanks to Chunk winning the darts competition and celebrating with vodka shots for everyone, bar staff included. Jamie took it upon himself to fill that order. Then, Enzo’s wife, Lucia, set up an area for dancing. I’m grateful the Bull is getting a night it deserves, and perhaps I’ve started to rebuild some bridges with the Clarkes — well, Janet at least. This isn’t the New Year I expected, but maybe it’s the one I needed.
I head to the storeroom to restock the fridges, partly because I don’t want to run out of Prosecco, and partly to stop myself creeping on Josie as she dances. Honestly, it’s a relief to see her back to her usually vibrant, snarky, playful self after her subdued entrance.
Once her parents left, she went from zero to one hundred. Never have I been so grateful to see Jamie as when he saved me from a conversation-most-awkward about her joining a fucking dating app. Help her choose a hot photo? What the actual fuck?
One, they’re all hot.
And two, no, I don’t want to help you sell yourself to some other guy that doesn’t deserve you either.
It’s what friends do, isn’t it? she’d said. Or taunted.
The noise from the party dims as the storeroom door shuts behind me. The fluorescent light whirs on and I take a breath. Then I force another one.
Her art is beautiful. As I’d scrolled through, I saw photos she must have taken for the Etsy store Ella mentioned. Her skill is incredible. My thumbs move of their own accord and I find myself googling her. Stalking her online was not in the spirit of us just being friends before now.
Jeez! Eighteen thousand followers on Instagram. That sounds like a lot. Her page is a patchwork of reels of her working, and shots of her work. Seems so brave to lay it all out in the open like that.
Over a thousand likes for some very red creations. I can almost feel the passion radiating through the screen. There’s a link to her Etsy store and, fuck, I’m blown away by what she’s done. What she’s achieved.
She has so much variety. It’s eclectic. Unique. She seems to organise her paintings in groups or series. Recently, it’s been red and black — almost abstract work. Before that, yellows, oranges, flowers … I tilt my head. At least, I think they’re flowers. They seem more inviting somehow. Sexual. I keep scrolling. A series of different birds before that. A hummingbird looks familiar and I realise she probably designed her own tattoo. Unh, that tattoo. Fuck, she’s amazing.
I take one last look at a candid photo of her flecked with paint, and then shut the screen down.
Just friends. I’m fucking lucky to have been near her, let alone to try to call her a friend.
Why am I here?
Bottles.
I grab a box of Prosecco and take it back into the chaos that is New Year’s Eve.
Jamie grabs me as I walk through the bar.
‘Midnight shots?’ he asks, waggling a bottle of tequila at me.
‘Why not?’ I shrug, a smile pulling at my lips from his excitement. ‘You better start cutting some more lemons; I’ll grab the salt.’
I peek across the bar. Josie’s been on the dancefloor with Ella, Nate and Chunk for an hour now, laughing and singing along, all the while seductively swaying her hips. She’s in her element. Glowing. And I feel sick that I’m not there with her.
Grateful for the distraction of pouring shots when the ten second countdown to the New Year begins, I specifically don’t watch what Josie does when it gets to the count of one.
And if anyone asks, that’s lemon juice in my eye, stinging like a bitch.
‘Where’s Jamie?’ Josie’s voice wraps around me as I hang up some glasses in the wire rack, making my blood fizz. Until I realise that she sounds worried.
‘What?’ I spin to face her, alert.
‘I haven’t seen Jamie for ages. Do you know where he is?’
I glance at my watch. Half-two.
‘I haven’t seen him for—’ Panic courses through me. I haven’t seen him for an hour, and after promising his parents he was safe with me, guilt lurches in my guts. I should have been more responsible. ‘Enzo, can you hold the fort?’
‘Sure thing, boss,’ Enzo says with a salute, a tired and somewhat tipsy smile on his face.
Any remnants of the two shots I’ve had in the last six hours entirely burns away as I wrench my gaze from Josie’s wide eyes and scour the pub, looking for a sign of him. ‘Where did you see him last?’
Josie flinches, and I realise that may have come out as a bark.
‘I … I don’t know. Why? You don’t know where he is?’
I shake my head as I move through the pub, her following me.
‘I’ll check the men’s.’ I move into the corridor, but a quick in and out of the bathroom proves he’s not there.
Josie bites her lip as visible panic starts to set in. ‘I’ll check outside.’ She’s out of the fire exit in an instant, inviting an icy blast through the open door.
‘Wait.’ It’s freezing out there.
I grab my jacket off a hook and catch up with her, swaddling it around her shoulders as she shouts out, ‘Jamie!’
‘I’m probably being silly,’ she sniffs. ‘But I feel responsible for him, even if he is eighteen now. I told my mum I’d get him home safe.’
‘I get it.’ I’d told her he wouldn’t get into any bother, and now he’s AWOL. Fuck, if any more Clarke’s get hurt on my watch.
We turn our phone torches on and scour the shady corners of the smokers area, then follow the building round, through the overgrown beer garden, which wraps around the side.
‘He’s not here,’ she pants. She shines a beam across the back of the beer garden, lifting onto her toes to try to see further.
I’m somewhat embarrassed about the state of the place, but my increasing worry about Jamie prevents full-blown mortification. I tug on her hand and she doesn’t resist. As she laces her fingers through mine, I feel like I could choke, but this is no time for thinking about the way touching her makes my skin sing.
‘He’s not here. Let’s get back inside.’ I guide her the way we came. ‘Have you phoned him?’
‘I should have started with that.’ She chides herself, voice catching. ‘I just didn’t think.’
Rushing forwards, she drops my grasp to open the door, and I mourn the loss instantly.
Back in the corridor, a tune rings out over the low hubbub of the party and we follow the sound of a Drake ringtone to the storeroom, where Jamie is lying curled up by some boxes of crisps.
‘Fuck,’ Josie says, echoing exactly what I’m thinking.
She crouches down and presses a hand to his head. ‘Jamie?’ she whispers, giving him a shake.
He snores and says something incomprehensible.
‘He’s—’
‘Fucked.’ She finishes my sentence. ‘I can’t take him home like this. Mum will go apoplectic.’
‘He could stay here?’
‘No.’ She takes off the jacket and balls it up under his head. ‘I’ll take him back to mine and text Mum the change of plan so she doesn’t worry. I’ll say he saw me home safely and we had a nightcap, so thought it best not to drive.’
‘I’ll get Enzo to lock up.’
She stops tapping at his cheek to look at me. ‘Why?’
‘I’m helping you get him home, Josie.’
‘We’ll be fine.’ She starts to tug under his shoulders, but she can’t shift him. Even though I think of him as a kid, Jamie is at least five foot eleven and still growing. ‘Fuck. ’
‘Ffucked evyffing up,’ Jamie mumbles, a scowl crossing his face.
‘Jamie?’ Her hand smooths his jaw.
‘It’s shleepy time,’ Jamie slurs, smacking his lips together.
‘Just let me help you.’ I haul him up, then drape his arm around my neck as I grip on to his side.
Memories of staggering out of pubs with Marcus swirl through me but I don’t let them take root.
Josie leaps to her feet. ‘I’ll get the doors.’
Somehow, he takes a bit of weight through his feet, and I manage to wrestle him out, down the corridor, out of the pub, and into the car park.
Josie strides over to an old banger, a bright yellow Beetle, and opens the door. She folds the seat down, revealing a bench seat across the back.
‘We can’t just throw him in there, can we?’ I peer in. ‘He’ll end up on the floor.’
Jamie giggles, his eyes still shut, and he starts singing and swaying to his own tune. I rock with him, trying to keep a hold on him.
‘Good job you’re coming to help then,’ she quips, gesturing to the tiny back seat. ‘You can get in with him.’
Relieved she’s accepting my help, I duck him into the back and stoop to follow, ensuring we’re safe and clipped in.
‘Okay back there?’ Josie glances over her shoulder from the driver’s seat.
‘I preferred him when he was passed out,’ I call over Jamie’s caterwauling.
Placing a pint of water on the bedside table, I murmur, ‘Can I get anything else?’
She looks up from where she’s curved next to Jamie, palming his brow and shakes her head. ‘I think he’s asleep now.’
Josie picks her way off the bed, and then turns back to survey the scene which is warmly lit by a table lamp.
‘Water, bucket, recovery position.’ She counts off her fingers. ‘I don’t think we can do much more. It’s so late, sorry.’
‘It’s fine.’
She wanders out of her bedroom, leaving the door open, and drops onto the sofa with a sigh. ‘Thanks for helping. I wouldn’t have got him up those stairs on my own.’
I follow and plop down next to her and she side-eyes me, surprised.
‘It’s really no trouble.’ I scratch my hand across my stubbled jaw and stifle a yawn. ‘I should have kept a better watch over him.’
‘It’s not your fault. I think the kid drank every shot that was left over.’
I wince. ‘ Definitely my fault. He’d have had all the ones I left.’
Josie’s head bobs slowly. ‘And I’m just as guilty. I gave him all mine.’ She leans her head to the side and looks back into the bedroom. ‘At least I can see him from here and don’t have to stay in that pit with him.’
She plucks a band from among the bracelets on her wrist and piles her hair into a messy knot on her head, before stretching and snuggling down into the cushions. I unfold a blanket that’s draped across the arm of the sofa, and fan it over her.
Josie starts to say thanks but it turns into a yawn. ‘How are you getting home?’ She mumbles sleepily.
‘I’ll walk.’
‘It’s too far. And it’s like, half three in the morning.’ She wriggles and tugs the blanket closer, shutting her eyes. ‘Get a taxi.’
‘In this sleepy town? I’d be lucky. Nah, I’ll walk in the morning.’
‘Oka— What?’ She sits bolt upright.
‘I’m not leaving you alone to deal with this.’
‘We’ll be fine.’ She rubs at her face. ‘He’s asleep now.’
‘And so are you, almost. One of us needs to keep an eye on him and,’ she tries to interrupt but I continue, ‘if there’s a problem, you’ll need a second pair of hands.’
‘But—’
‘It’s what friends do , isn’t it?’ I use her words back at her, half hating the sound of it. But would she even let me in here otherwise?
Resigned, she lays back down on her end of the couch and shuts her eyes. ‘Wake me up in ten minutes. I just need a quick nap.’
Within seconds, the tiniest purr-like snores sound out. I study her face, the dim light from the bedroom kissing her profile, highlighting the curve of her button nose, her freckles, her soft lips. I huff out a long breath and try to steady my thoughts.
I’m here for Jamie . I have to make sure he’s okay. Especially after I’d told his parents he was working at a quiet, countryside pub. Jamie won’t get into any bother , I’d promised. What a joke.
I’m a joke.
This midnight vigil reminds me of a couple nights with Marcus. Times when he’d been off his face so badly, I’d been too scared to go to sleep.
Moonlight reflects off the window pane. Now all is quiet and calm, I take in Josie’s space. It’s a cluttered mess, but I kind of love it. Another glimpse into a side of Josie that I don’t know.
I stand, smoothing the blanket over her where it’s rumpled. If I were to stay on that sofa, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from drawing her on to me, from feeling her curves press into me, from breathing in her coconut scent. We’d wake entwined together, and I wouldn’t be able to leave her.
Carefully, I move around her apartment. The floor is littered with canvases, some spread around and some stacked against walls and each other. A small dining table is laid out with paints and art equipment. One wall is entirely covered by a mural, and it reminds me of something, even though I can’t say exactly what I’m looking at. There seems to be birds, flames, and it echoes the unusual flower arrangements Ash put together at the play party. It’s so unapologetically loud, as if nothing is held back. And I love it.
It’s Josie to a tee. When she doesn’t hold back, when she’s completely herself, she shines.
My shoulders heave with a sigh. Watching her be so quiet, almost suppressing herself in front of her parents tonight was hard. It wasn’t right to see her like that, and I’m confused as to why she was so different. Where did my girl go?
She’s not my girl.
I scrub at my face again and drag my hair off my forehead, trying to clear my head. I have to make this friends thing work. I need her in my life.