Victoria’s eyes bulge at Tom’s huffiness. ‘You don’t think twice about casting me aside if you’re offered a bit of action!’ Her tone is reproachful and quite rightly. Tom has abandoned Victoria on many occasions if a gay man flashes him a promising stare.
‘Still, there are six other days you could have picked. Who is it, anyway?’ He stirs his Pina Colada, trying his hardest to look bored.
‘Just a friend of a friend.’ she muses. I’m glad she seems unaffected, and she’s clearly over the dashing, black haired Drew. They just don’t make sense. ‘Oh, there he is,’ She jumps up. ‘See ya!’ She heads towards an average height, average looking guy at the bar and they greet each other with an awkward kiss on the cheek and a hand shake. She says something in his ear and he nods before they leave. That’s a sensible move. We’ll all be watching how the date progresses and Tom will just be a total bitch.
‘Well,’ Tom huffs. ‘Isn’t that just marvelous?’
Over the next hour, we laugh, chat about anything and everything, and drink. It’s lovely. I’m reminded why I need to battle with my challenging man on this matter. I need my friends, especially Kate. With Tom here, I’ve not had an opportunity to bring her up to date with the Mikael and Coral saga or interrogate her on The Manor and her recent visits there.
‘And how’s Sam?’ Tom turns his attention to Kate.
‘Why? Do you still want to screw him?’ she jokes, winking at me. Tom flushes from head to toe and flashes Kate a gay, dirty look. It still staggers me how he is so taken by laidback, casual, goodtime junky Sam.
‘No,’ He tuts and crosses his legs. It’s the gayest possible gesture. ‘I was just being polite. How’s Jesse?’
My glass is just touching my lips, ready for a tilt and gulp, when he asks the question. He can’t be avoided all night and I am marrying the man. It’s common knowledge that he’s challenging…but only with me. Everyone sat at this table – and quite a few who are not – have seen him in action at some point.
‘Why? You want to screw him too?’ Kate jumps in with her tongue and cheek question, and I burst into laughter as Tom gapes at her.
He looks between us in disgust. ‘So, it’s pick on Tom night, is it?’
‘Looks like it.’ I say and raise my glass. ‘Tom, Jesse would blow…your…mind.’ I say seriously.
‘Ava!’ he gasps.
‘Oh, please! I have to endure torturous stories of your sexual encounters.’
Kate laughs. ‘I’m going for a fag if we’re getting into Tom’s sex life.’ She jumps down from the stool and makes her way to the smoking area.
‘I need the lavatory.’ Tom grumbles, and clears off to the toilets, leaving me people watching, a pastime I usually enjoy, but then Matt comes into my field of vision and I find myself ducking slightly.
Shit!
My ring is suddenly burning through the flesh of my finger and I’m breaking out in a sweat. I didn’t reply to his apology text and I know the slimy worm has been on the phone to my parents again. Just when I think I’ve evaded him, his beady eyes land on me like a kettle-bell and I sag on my stool as he approaches. I glance around the bar, mindful that the doorman could be watching out for me, and then return my eyes to Matt, catching a glimpse of a healing black eye. I mentally applaud Jesse and suddenly wish I had relented and stayed at home with him.
‘Ava.’ he greets cheerfully, as if nothing has happened, as if he hasn’t been feeding my parents duff information and spouting off that Jesse’s an alcoholic, which promptly reminds me that he knows about Jesse’s issue.
How? But he’s not an alcoholic. I ignore the small part of my brain currently advising me that I might be in slight denial. ‘Matt, I think it is probably best if you leave.’ I maintain a steady, firm voice.
‘Oh?’ He looks truly shocked. ‘Ava, please hear me out. I couldn’t be sorrier, really. I was a complete twat. I deserved everything.’ He shifts uncomfortably on his feet and stares into his pint glass. ‘If you’re with someone else now, then I accept that.’ he says quietly. ‘I’m gutted, but I accept it.’
I keep my hands under the table, the ring firmly out of sight. I have to ask, I can’t help it. ‘How do you know about Jesse?’
His shocked eyes fly up from his pint glass. ‘So, you’re still seeing him then?’
‘That’s none of your business, Matt. And why are you ringing my parents, telling them a load of crap?’
‘Is it crap?’ he shoots back.
‘Who have you been talking to?’
‘No one.’ He won’t meet my eyes, but then he leans his elbows on the table and gets too close. ‘Ava, I still want you back.’
My back straightens and I flick my eyes to the entrance to make sure I’m not being spied on. What am I going to say? He just told me that he accepted it all. How many times do I have to tell him that there is no chance?
I could kiss Tom when he returns from the toilets and gives Matt his roving eye. Matt abruptly pushes himself away from the table as soon as Tom appears opposite him, knocking my bag flying to the floor. His tolerance level of my forward, gay friend has not improved. I jump down from my stool.
‘Oh, darling!’ Tom crouches down to help me gather my scattered possessions. ‘He’s still hot!’ he whispers to me on the floor.
‘He is not.’ I screw my face up. I find Matt anything but hot now. He makes my skin crawl. I rise to find Matt walking away, holding his hand up in a catch-you-later gesture.
‘Oh, where’s he going?’ Tom exclaims, stamping his foot.
‘Hopefully, to jump off a cliff.’ I mutter uncharitably under my breath. I finish my wine in one foul swig. After seeing Matt, I could do with another.
‘Matt’s in here!’ Kate throws herself on the barstool. ‘And he has a black eye. High five Jesse!’
‘Well, it’s been a pleasure girls, but I need some action tonight and it doesn’t look like I’m going to get it in here,’ Tom throws a disgusted look in the general direction of all the blatantly straight men, ‘I’m going to Route Sixty. Want to come?’ he asks hopefully.
‘No!’ Kate and I shout in unison, leaving us laughing and Tom stropping out of the bar in search of action.
‘Did the snake speak to you?’ Kate asks when she’s stopped chuckling.
‘He tried.’ I’m just about to volunteer bar duties when Tom flies back into the bar and collides with the table. He’s huffing and puffing all over the place. Kate and I point frowns at him.
He gets his breathing under control. ‘You will not believe who I’ve just seen.’
‘Who?’ Kate asks before I have a chance to engage my mouth.
‘Sally.’ His face breaks out into a big grin and he glances over his shoulder before returning excited eyes to us. ‘Sally…wearing a miniskirt and low cut top – a very tight, short miniskirt and a very low cut top. She has a date!’
‘Oh?’ I say, a little surprised, but not because of the apparent outfit. I’m surprised because she looked suicidal on Thursday.
‘What? Wallflower Sally? Boring office girl Sally?’ Kate asks.
‘Yes.’ I confirm. ‘Tom, leave the girl alone.’ I return to my glass, promptly remembering that I want another.
‘I might get a picture!’ Tom dances out of the bar, getting his phone from his pocket.
‘I’ll get the drinks.’ I slide off the stool and grab my purse. ‘Same again?’
‘Do you need to ask?’ She rolls her eyes and waves her empty glass at me.
I fight my way to the bar and wait my turn, attracting the attention of some muscle pumped, ponytailed slime-ball. I ignore his leering stare and order our drinks.
‘Hi, can I buy you a drink?’
I glance around and smile sweetly. ‘No, thank you.’
‘Come on, just one drink.’ he presses and moves in closer.
‘No, really. I’ve got it, but thanks.’
The barman places one glass of wine on the bar. ‘I’ve just got to pop down the cellar. We’re out.’ He leaves me stood at the bar with ponytailed guy dribbling all over me. I roll my eyes, not that the barman notices.
‘Maybe I could take you out sometime then?’ He is really close now.
‘I’m involved with someone.’ I say over my shoulder. He can’t have missed the gigantic diamond on my finger. I take a swig of my wine.
‘And?’
I turn towards him. ‘And…I’m involved with someone.’ I flash my ring and he nods, but not in an accepting way. I think I’ve just made the challenge more interesting.
‘He’s not here, though, is he?’
‘No, lucky for you, he’s not.’ I reply curtly, turning back towards the bar. I’m immensely relieved when I see the barman approaching.
He places Kate’s wine down and I pass him a note, willing him to be quick. My skin is prickling under the leery eyes of the overinflated man stood next to me. I take another long sip of my wine and try to blank him out. I’m beyond exasperated when the barman signals no change. He walks off to the end of the bar and starts faffing about in various tills.