‘Bloody beer drinkers,’ Gemma muttered. ‘Destroys the taste buds, that’s why I can never get Sunil on the wine. Well, cheers, ladies.’ She held up her glass. ‘Here’s to a good night.’
*
Two jugs of minty-limey rum later, Clarrie was approaching the level of drunkenness that made the world her best mate and the club’s pink neon lighting her blurry, eye-stinging worst enemy.
‘Wonder what the lads are up to tonight,’ she said, woozily topping up her glass.
‘Si’s probably reading those bloody trivia books,’ Gemma said. ‘Sunil’s round at Dave’s playing video games.’
‘You reckon they’re talking about orgasms and our fear of commitment?’
Gemma scoffed. ‘No, I reckon they’re drinking beer and talking about our tits. This is Dave we’re on about.’
Lyndsey frowned at her. ‘Oi. That’s my boyfriend.’
‘That just means he can describe yours in more detail than ours,’ Gemma said with a shrug.
‘Yeah, he’s probably drawn Sonny a picture by now,’ Clarrie said. ‘Si reckons Davy only did A-Level Art so he could perfect his tit-sketching technique.’
‘Heh. Probably true,’ Lyndsey said. ‘So either of you guys ever… y’know?’ She waggled her eyebrows.
‘Sorry?’ Gem said, blinking.
‘Y’know.’ Lyndsey waggled her eyebrows again.
Clarrie squinted at her through the mojito haze. ‘Have you got a facial tick, Lyns, or is that just a symptom of your sex addiction?’
‘Ah, come on, thickoes. I mean, you ever sleep with any of them? You know, your mates. What with them being lads and everything.’
Clarrie and Gemma looked at each other. ‘Sonny,’ they said in unison.
‘What, both of you?’
Gemma shrugged. ‘Well it wasn’t at the same time or anything.’
‘It was only the once with me and him,’ Clarrie said. ‘We were kids. First time and all that.’
‘Any good?’ Lyndsey asked.
She laughed. ‘Dire. It lasted about two minutes and we spent the rest of the night going through an essay for A-Level English. I think we both felt the sex thing had been a bit over-hyped, to be honest.’
Gemma shot her a look. ‘Could you not disparage my boyfriend’s shagging technique in front of the newbie, Midwinter? Don’t want to have to deck you.’
‘As if you could, Shirley Temple.’
‘I’ll have you know Sunil’s great in bed. Perfectly capable of producing multiple organismisms every time. At least…’ Gem counted on her fingers. ‘… six. In a row. Good ones, not like them little half ones that don’t count.’
‘Pfffft. Bollocks, darling.’
‘You two’re funny when you’re pissed,’ Lyndsey said, giggling. She topped up her mojito from the jug. ‘So what about my Dave then?’
‘What about him?’ Clarrie said.
‘You guys ever… y’know?’
Clarrie lifted her eyes to the ceiling. ‘Enough with the y’knows, Lyns. Pretty coy for a nympho, aren’t you?’
‘Hey. I’m not a nympho.’
‘Not what Davy said.’
Lyndsey shrugged. ‘It’s not my fault he’s so sexy.’
Clarrie tried her best not to scoff. ‘Really? Dave?’
‘Yeah, Dave’s hot. So have you?’
Gemma laughed. ‘With Dave? No, love, you’re safe.’
Lyndsey looked affronted. ‘Why, what’s up with Dave?’
‘Nothing,’ Clarrie said. ‘He’s just… Dave. It’d be weird.’
‘But not with Sonny?’
‘No, that’d be weird too, now,’ she said. ‘You get older, things… change… Look, let’s talk about something else. I don’t want to get into which of my mates I’d shag first if the opportunity came up.’
Gemma scoffed. ‘Yeah, coz we all know the answer to that.’
‘Don’t flatter yourself, princess,’ Clarrie said, topping up her and Gem’s mojitos.
‘You know who I mean.’
Lyndsey shot Clarrie a knowing smile. ‘Si, right? What is it with you and him?’
‘So I totally shagged Dave in sixth form,’ Clarrie said.
‘No you didn’t,’ Gemma said. She took a slurp of fresh mojito through her straw. ‘You’re just trying to change the subject. Everyone knows Davy didn’t – ow!’ She stopped as Clarrie took a well-aimed kick at her ankle.
‘Er, everyone knows Dave lost it with Laura Tindall when he was eighteen,’ she finished, smiling weakly at Lyndsey.
Lyndsey frowned. ‘Really, eighteen? Late starter.’
‘You have no idea,’ Gemma said, wincing when she got another kick from Clarrie under the table.
‘So, you and Si,’ Lyndsey said to Clarrie. ‘Go on, fill me in. Everyone else seems to know.’
‘I can manage the abirdge… abrudge… er, short version for you,’ Gemma said, stifling a hiccup. ‘She loves him, he loves her, she’s mental, it’s weird, the end.’
Lyndsey frowned. ‘But I’m guessing there’s more to it than that, yeah?’
‘Er, no. That’s about it actually,’ Clarrie said.
‘So how did this daft bet of yours come about then?’
Clarrie sighed. ‘Oh, he’s forever betting me something or other, ever since he promised me his best kinger marble if I could eat a whole packet of jaffa cakes in one go. This is just the grown-up version of games we’ve been playing since we were bloody four years old.’ She blinked into her drink. ‘I mean, I thought it was. Before.’
‘But it isn’t,’ Lyndsey said.
‘No. Especially not since I realised something.’
‘What did you realise?’
Clarrie snorted. ‘I realised that this is one bet I actually want him to win.’
‘You mean you’ve finally made up your mind to go out with him?’ Gemma nodded her approval. ‘About time too.’
Clarrie shook her head. ‘No, I mean I want him to win the bet. I want to be told it’s okay to go out with him. That I’m not doing something wrong or fucking both our lives up or all the other things I’ve been angsting about pretty much since the first time he asked me.’ She laughed bleakly. ‘I want to be… I want to be allowed.’ She looked up to meet their eyes. ‘Does that make sense?’
‘Nope,’ Gemma said. But Lyndsey nodded slowly.
‘Yeah, I get it,’ she said. ‘Helps you put a box around it, right? Makes it less scary.’
Clarrie pointed a finger at her. ‘Yes! That’s it exactly!’
‘You’ve spent a lot of time worrying about this, haven’t you?’
‘Years.’ Clarrie swallowed a sob. ‘I’ve spent years worrying about this, Lyns. And it was easy enough to pretend it didn’t matter, when I was convinced he was just amusing himself between one-night stands and fuck buddies, but now… everything’s different. Especially since his mum got ill.’
‘Why, what changed?’
‘Suddenly he’s just got this face on him, like it’s make or break and he’ll win the League or die trying, and now we’re in second place and I can’t help thinking… what if? What if he does win? And then that day at the barbecue, he asked if I was worried about losing and I realised that no, it was just the opposite. I really, really wanted to lose.’ She sighed and drained the dregs of her cocktail. ‘Look, girls, you mind if we talk about something else? I really don’t want to get into this.’
‘You need to get into it or you’ll never unmental yourself,’ Gemma said.
‘Not now. Not after this many drinks. God, I can’t even… with the…’ She stared into the crushed ice crystals in her glass, letting her fogged brain wander. ‘Hey Gem. You think you really were pregnant that time?’
‘Thanks, drunkface.’ Gemma flashed a wary glance at Lyndsey, who flushed.
‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘Probably didn’t want me to hear that, eh?’
‘No…’ Gem said. ‘No, I reckon you’re part of the gang now. I don’t mind. Just don’t tell the lads, �
��K?’
‘I also don’t mind,’ Clarrie said with a dizzy grin. ‘Glad you’re one of the girls, Lyns.’
Lyndsey shot them a grateful smile. ‘Thanks, guys.’
Gem smiled vaguely back. ‘What were we talking about?’
‘You being knocked up,’ Clarrie said, sucking on a chunk of ice. ‘Ow! Brain freeze…’
‘Oh yeah. Short answer: no idea. My period started like three days later. I mean, regular as clockwork till that point, then nearly twelve days late. Could’ve been…’ She winced. ‘Well, you know, that word. Let’s not say the word.’
‘What word?’ Clarrie said.
‘Begins with a em.’
‘Oh. That word.’
‘Anyway, it’s done with now, isn’t it? Me and Sunil are moving on, making a life together. We’re not kids any more.’ She glared at her empty glass, blinking with emotion and drink. ‘And I do love him.’
‘No need to sound so angry about it,’ Clarrie said. ‘Hey! I got this great idea. Let’s get s’more mintydrink.’
‘You get more drinks, drinkie. I’m going to ring Sunil.’ Gemma stood and tottered unsteadily off, fumbling her phone out of her bag as she weaved her way through the throng of drinkers and dancers.
Lyndsey caught Clarrie’s eye. ‘Aren’t we supposed to do something? There’s a rule about letting friends drunk dial, isn’t there?’
Clarrie snorted. ‘If we’d done that with Sonny they wouldn’t be back together. Drunk dialling rocks.’ She gazed thoughtfully into her glass. ‘Think I’ll ring Si.’
‘You sure that’s a good idea?’
‘Yep, it’s s’best. His voice is nice.’
‘Er, yeah.’
‘Sounds like… Christmas.’
‘And starlight and unicorns… hey, why don’t you give me your phone, Clarrie? I can ring him for you.’
Clarrie glared at Lyndsey, then broke into a grin. ‘Ahhhhhh. I know your game. Fancy him, don’t you? I seen you checking him out.’
‘Bloody hell, those last mojitos really went straight to your heads, didn’t they? All the booze must’ve been at the bottom of the jug.’
‘Nope. Sober as a… newt. I’m gonna ring Si.’ Clarrie stood up on wobbly legs and leaned over the table to clap Lyndsey on the arm. ‘No worries, nympho lady. Everyone fancies him. Won’t hold it against you.’
‘Um, cheers.’
A lightbulb dinged over Clarrie’s dizzy head. ‘Hey. You should ring Dave, tell him you love him. S’what all the cool kids are doing.’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘You do love sweet little Dave, don’t you? We all love Dave.’
Lyndsey sighed. ‘Yes, I love sweet little Dave. Think I might ring him actually, see if he can send his dad to pick us up.’
‘Yeah! Get Jeff. Jeff’s great. I mean, he’s rubbish, he hardly ever gets the questions. But he’s still great.’
‘What’ve I got myself into?’ Lyndsey muttered. Summoning a bright smile, she patted Clarrie on the shoulder in the same way someone might humour a toddler high on Haribo Starmix. ‘Okay, you go ring Si, sweety. S’pose you can’t do too much damage with that guy. I’ll sort us out a lift.’ She took Clarrie’s elbow and guided her, staggering, to the exit.
Outside, Clarrie stared blearily at her phone. She tapped at the glowing jumble of colours until she managed to bring up Simon’s number.
‘Si!’ she shouted when he answered.
‘Hi Clarrie. Still out with the girls?’
‘Love you.’
‘Ah.’
‘Love you, Si. I’m drunk.’
‘You amaze me.’
‘Yep. There were these thinks. Things. Mohicans. They come off of a, a… jug. Good stuff.’
‘Mohicans. Right.’
‘Got a mint in them. And… something. A mint and something.’
‘Okay, I’ll write that down. A mint and something, got it, we can make them on your birthday. You need a lift home, Clar?’
‘Love you.’
‘Er, yeah, you said. Love you too, kiddo.’
‘Ha! Yeah you do.’
‘Okay, no need to shout,’ Si said. ‘Anyone else there? Gem?’
Clarrie squinted as she tried to focus on Gemma. She could just make her out, sagging against the wall while she sobbed into her phone. Mo, the huge, stocky bouncer, was patting her back with the resigned air of a man who’d spent his last ten years’ worth of Friday nights breaking up fights and comforting maudlin drunks.
‘She’s crying at Sonny,’ Clarrie said to Si.
‘Oh God, you’re all like that…’
Clarrie noticed Lyndsey beckoning to pass her the phone.
‘Dave’s missus wants you.’ Clarrie lowered her voice to a very audible whisper. ‘Careful, she fancies you. Don’t shag her, ’K?’
‘What, over the phone? I’ll try to control myself.’
She passed her mobile to Lyndsey.
‘Hiya, Si,’ Lyndsey said. ‘Yeah, they’re both off their faces. We’d love a lift, if you’re about. I mean, we can get a taxi if…Okay, if you’re sure. Cheers.’
‘Psssst!’ Clarrie said with a little high-pitched giggle. ‘Tell him I love him.’
‘Er, Clarrie says she loves you.’
‘And tell him I’m drunk!’
‘And she’s drunk.’
Lyndsey grinned. ‘He says he knows on both counts and he’ll see you in ten minutes.’
‘Si! Bring fags!’ Clarrie shouted, right before Lyndsey hung up.
*
After dropping off Lyndsey and Gemma, Simon’s Clio pulled up in front of The Bookshelf.
‘This is you, Clar,’ he said, turning to face her. ‘Come on, I’ll help you upstairs.’
‘And then you’ll go away?’
‘I’ll wait till you fall asleep if you want.’
‘Can’t I come home with you?’ Even through the booze fog, Clarrie could hear the note of pleading in her voice.
Si stroked her hair back from her face, running his eyes over her drooping features. ‘Better not, eh?’
‘But I love you, Si.’
‘So you keep saying.’ He sounded a bit sad. ‘I wish you’d told me a few mojitos ago. Sorry. Mohicans.’
‘Is it coz you don’t think I’m pretty?’
‘You’re beautiful, Clarissa. You know that’s what I think.’
‘No, but shush, right, listen. Shhhhh.’ She put one finger over his lips.
He flashed her an amused grin and lifted the finger from his mouth. ‘Go on, I’m listening.’
‘Normally, right, when you meet pretty girls in nightclubs, right, you take them back to your house and do snogging and that with them.’ She wagged an accusing finger. ‘I seen you.’
Si laughed. ‘Not when they’re in this state I don’t, I do the gentlemanly thing and help them into a taxi. Anyway, you’re not an ordinary pretty girl. You’re a Clarrie pretty girl.’
‘Shut up. You are,’ she said with a giggle, closely followed by a hiccup. ‘You love me, don’t you?’
‘You know I do.’ He sighed. ‘God, Clar, do you even know how many times I’ve tried to tell you that over the years?’
She blinked, trying to focus. He was saying things. She needed to remember the things.
‘Did you?’ she mumbled. ‘When?’
‘I think the first time was when you got together with Olly. That guy had me worried, more than either of the other two. I could see how much you liked him. Convinced myself it was now or never, but I wimped out at the last minute.’ He ran a finger down her cheek. ‘It’s the one thing I could never bring myself to tell you, how I really felt about you.’
‘Why?’
‘Afraid, I suppose, of how you might react. Worried I’d scare you.’
‘I wish… Si, I wish…’
‘What do you wish?’
‘I… don’t know.’ She could feel her eyes getting heavy. ‘Can’t I sleep in your bed, Si? Go on.’
‘You can stay over at mine if you want. I’ll ta
ke the floor.’ He examined her glazed expression with concern. ‘In fact, I think you better had. Feel like I should keep an eye on you.’
‘Can there be cuddling? At camp there was cuddling.’
‘Well, camp’s camp. This is real life.’ Simon breathed another heavy sigh. ‘You’re not my girlfriend, Clarrie. Sharing beds, cuddling – it’s not normal, is it? We need to break the habit. It’ll only make things harder if I lose.’
‘’S’fine. Best mates, aren’t we? Used to do it all the time when we were kids.’ She let her head sink onto Si’s convenient shoulder.
‘And now we’re adults. If I wake up in bed with you again – well, I want to really wake up with you. As my girlfriend.’
Si looked at the head resting on his shoulder. ‘Clar?’
The only answer he got was a snore.
24
14th Annual Denworth Quiz League: Leaderboard
The Warp and Weft, Match 7 of 8
1st place – Les Quizerables (401)
2nd place – The Mighty Morphin’ Flower Arrangers (399)
3rd place – The Murgatroyd Family (391)
The Flower Arrangers were gathering at the Warp and Weft for the seventh quiz of the League – the last match before the grand final. The previous quiz had narrowed their points gap to only two behind Les Quizerables, and tonight’s match could be the one to push them into the lead.
When Clarrie and Si arrived together, everyone on the team was there except Jeff.
Clarrie nodded to the last empty chair. ‘Tell me he hasn’t been grounded again.’
‘No, he’s on his way,’ Dave said. ‘We didn’t come together tonight, I’ve been at Lyndsey’s.’
‘Spending a lot of time there, aren’t you?’
‘Yeah. I’m knackered.’
She smiled. ‘I’m not surprised. How’s it going then?’
‘Great actually. Think she really likes me, you know?’
Gemma grinned. ‘Davy. Are you blushing?’
‘No,’ Dave said, his colour deepening. ‘That’s just… sex rash. You get it when you’re well sexy.’
‘What, syphilis?’ Si said.
Dave glared at him. ‘You’re just jealous. Not seen you getting your leg over much lately.’
‘You’ve not seen much of anything lately. Been locked up in your sex lair, haven’t you?’
A Question of Us Page 21