Chapter 20 #2
Their art instructor, Pablo, who was equally hunky, but who was wearing more clothes, began the chant of ‘Off, off, off’, and they all joined in gleefully, cackling with laughter when Harry treated them to flashes of bare chest and thighs.
After a few moments’ teasing, Harry had disrobed and had arranged himself on the small podium that dominated Mike’s back room.
He’d been wearing a skimpy red jockstrap and after a little more encouragement he deigned to remove this too.
It could have been embarrassing but to Jade’s surprise it wasn’t. Partly because Harry kept up a running commentary about art, the dangers of getting too cold on the job, or spending too long in the wrong position and getting cramp.
‘Once I got cramp when I’d been lying on my left leg too long and I had a bad case of pins and needles.
I had to move and quick.’ He paused for dramatic effect.
‘I leapt off the podium at exactly the same time as this sweet old lady was getting up to go to the ladies’.
I swear she thought I was about to pounce on her.
I’ve never seen an octogenarian run so fast.’
‘Are you sure she was running from you – and wasn’t chasing after you?’ Bridie quipped, and everyone laughed some more.
Pablo was equally as entertaining, and surprisingly educational.
‘The art of life drawing, if you’ll excuse the pun, is to study the details of your subject’s anatomy closely,’ he’d said at the beginning. ‘So go on, ladies, get up there and have a good look. Go on, don’t be shy. Harry’s a professional. Only one rule. You can look, but don’t touch.’
They’d all done as he’d said, and it had felt a bit weird at first, but actually, Harry was a pro and it wasn’t long before everyone was totally at their ease and drawing sketches like they’d been doing it all their lives.
Pablo had come round to each of them as they’d worked, making various comments, many of which were loaded with inuendo. He had a brilliant way of making outrageous remarks in a serious voice and with a deadpan expression.
‘Come on, Jade, it needs to be a lot bigger than that. We’re obviously not looking at the same thing here, are we?
’ He cleared his throat as a couple of the hens sitting closest sniggered.
‘I’m talking about Harry’s left bicep. Ladies, really.
Please contain yourselves. This is a serious session. No laughing.’
And of course the more he said ‘No laughing’ the more they laughed.
At one point Mike popped in, ostensibly to top up the nibbles, and he got terribly flustered when he spotted Harry in all his naked glory posing on the podium.
‘Oh, good lord. Sorry, um, just bringing you some extra nipples, I mean nibbles. Blimey. Good heavens. I’ll, um, leave you all to it. Shout if you need me.’
‘You can’t come back unless you’re naked,’ Dorrie shouted, and there was a series of cat calls and laughter that sent Mike scuttling away at top speed.
By the time they were halfway through the forty-minute session, Jade’s sides ached from laughing.
Finn and the stags were on their fourth pub when Finn began to feel drunk, which was very peculiar considering the fact that apart from the first pub where he’d had a proper pint, he’d stuck to Guinness 0.0. He couldn’t understand it.
The others, with the exception of Ray, had been drinking shots with every pint. Finn had shaken his head to them. He couldn’t do shots at the best of times, but he should have been OK on one Guinness, so why was he feeling so lightheaded?
When he got the chance he leaned in to speak to Ray, who was perched beside him on a bar stool at their latest venue, a pub with a big screen and a pool table, and chatting to the landlord about table football.
‘Dad, you haven’t noticed anyone slipping anything extra into my glass, have you?’
Ray turned to look at him. ‘No, lad. Although I did notice Declan’s been close to your drink a few times. And I think he might have put a shot in at the last place when he got a round in.’
‘What shot? When?’
‘He said you’d ordered it. Double vodka? He tipped it in your drink when you were in the gents’.’
‘You mean he spiked my drink.’ Finn felt a surge of anger. ‘I didn’t order any vodka.’ He glanced across at Declan, who was looking their way with a faint smile on his face.
‘You all right, bruv? Having a good time?’
Finn got off his bar stool too quickly and felt his head spin in the process.
There must have been more than one double vodka.
Shit! He couldn’t remember feeling this drunk for years.
He took a few steps across the bar, intending to give Declan a piece of his mind, but somehow he missed his footing and ended up stumbling before he got there.
Declan, aware of Finn’s intent and clearly a lot more sober than him, nipped smartly off his stool and melted away into the crowd.
To Finn’s alarm, he’d begun to see two images instead of one and he grabbed hold of the bar in an effort to haul himself up.
But somehow he missed and in the next instant he was on the floor of the bar, staring at a forest of boots and dust and trainers.
How humiliating. He closed his eyes briefly and the room spun. Bloody Declan. This was exactly why he’d chosen to stay sober this evening. He had absolutely no tolerance for any kind of spirits.