Chapter 3 #2
My fingers tightened a fraction on the edge of the table, an uncomfortable weight pressing hard against my chest.
‘Better off.’ I repeated his words slowly. They felt strange and bitter in my mouth. Maybe it was the whole drinking on an empty stomach thing kicking in.
‘Shit, Jenny, I didn’t mean—’ but Jacob was interrupted before he could finish his sentence.
‘I’m here! I’m here!’ We heard Alice before we saw her.
All five foot two of her concealed by the jostling crowd until she eventually broke through a tiny gap and appeared by our table.
‘Sorry, I’m soooo late! Stentless heart valve implementation.
’ She threw Jacob and me a look that suggested she knew we’d understand, even though we both had zero clue what a stentless heart valve implementation was.
‘Oh my god, I can’t believe you’re actually here!
’ she squealed, dropping her coat and bag to the floor and wrapping her tiny arms around me.
She smelt of disinfectant and her favourite brand of dry shampoo.
‘I mean, Jacob texted me saying he managed to drag you here, but I didn’t believe it. ’
‘It’s really not been that long,’ I insisted, pretending I didn’t see the exchange between Jacob and Alice that said otherwise.
Alice nodded towards the glass-strewn table. ‘Looks like I’ve got some catching up to do.’
‘Another round,’ Matt announced as if on cue, appearing with a drink-laden tray balanced in one hand. ‘On the house, in honour of my sister gracing us with her presence this fine evening.’
‘Not you too,’ I mumbled sulkily, helping myself to the large glass of chilled Chardonnay.
‘Have I mentioned how much I love the fact that your mum owns a pub?’ Jacob grinned, his eyes lighting up at the sight of another garishly bright cocktail.
‘Only three times since we got here.’ I rolled my eyes.
‘And that she books sexy, tortured-looking musicians with very capable-looking hands.’
A gap had appeared in the crowd and I followed Jacob’s lustful gaze to where the singer was perched on one of the leather-studded bar stools in the corner.
His fingers were strumming the strings of his guitar, an unruly mass of jet-black curls concealing most of his face.
He was handsome in that obvious kind of way that meant, statistically, he was 90% likely to also be an asshole.
Broad shoulders. Chiselled jaw. An air of confidence that meant he could make eye contact with just about anyone – like he was with me right now, those impossibly dark eyes trained unashamedly on mine. Musicians.
‘Speaking of Mum, she asked me to ask you how you’re doing. Apparently, you’re not replying to her texts?’ Matt winced with the pained reluctance of someone passing along a message they really didn’t want to give.
‘I’m fine.’ The words, ready to go on the tip of my tongue, tumbled readily out of my mouth.
‘She texts me a million times a day; shoot me if I don’t respond to every single one.
’ I scowled, hating the sharp, overly defensive edge to my voice.
‘ Sorry ,’ I mouthed at Matt, who just placed a big, bear-like hand on my shoulder with unexpected tenderness, the briefest shake of his head that said don’t worry about it.
‘It’s good to see you,’ he whispered in my ear.
He was a man of few words, my brother, but the squeeze of my shoulder said so much.
It was only when Matt’s shirt started to blur as I watched him walk away, the colours bleeding into each other, that I realised my eyes were watering.
God, I wasn’t becoming that annoying person who cried every time she had a drink, was I?
‘Got to pee,’ I muttered, slipping quietly out from behind our table before either Alice or Jacob could see.
The bathroom was deserted and I braced my hands either side of the basin, the ceramic smooth and cool beneath my skin.
I leaned over, splashing cold water on the back of my neck as I tried to calm the blotchy red patch slowly spreading across my chest, creeping up my throat like an ink stain.
My face was paler than normal, dull even, with a greying undertone that matched the bags under my eyes. Maybe it was time to call it a night?
An image of Joe and I snuggled up in bed, watching old episodes of Friends as we passed a tub of Ben & Jerry’s back and forth between us swam into my mind.
It looked so perfect. I nodded decisively to myself in the mirror, spinning on my heel as I headed for the door.
But as I exited the bathroom, my left foot tripped over something (probably my right foot), sending me stumbling forwards.
‘Woah, easy there.’
A big, strong arm looped itself around my waist, body-slamming me against the torso it was attached to, to prevent my fall.
‘You OK?’
I looked up, coming nose to nose with the singer with the capable hands.
Jacob’s words, not mine, although seeing as they did just save me from going arse over tit, the evidence thus far seemed to support his hypothesis.
I was suddenly very conscious that said hands were still flat against the small of my back, the hem of my top riding up beneath his grip.
‘Fine, thanks,’ I said, clearing my throat a little too loudly as I took two steps backwards. His head tilted to one side as he started to push the door to the men’s bathroom open, eyes glinting in the dimly lit corridor.
‘Make sure you tie that shoelace now.’ I looked down, clocking the trailing shoelace responsible for my clumsiness.
Well, maybe the four glasses of wine had also had a little something to do with it.
‘Wouldn’t want you falling for anyone else.
’ He winked, an amused curl to his lips, before the door swung shut behind him.
I rolled my eyes, wondering how many women he’d used that one on.
As I made my way back through the crowd, my gaze fell on a young couple.
They were sat at a tiny table in the corner, edging towards each other like two magnets, him inching his stool closer, her ducking her head coquettishly as she leaned into him.
He reached out, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, a single finger caressing the side of her cheek.
They were sat at mine and Joe’s table. Our heart-enclosed initials, carved into the underside with my protractor 15 years ago, declared it so.
This way we’ll always be together. Me and you. Jenny and Joe. Always and forever.
An unwelcome heaviness pressed against the pit of my stomach, the wine threatening to make a reappearance. Yep, definitely time to go.