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‘Right,’ he draws his cider to his mouth and the glass hovers there as he says, ‘we wouldn’t want anyone overhearing you saying something nice.’
‘It’d destroy my reputation.’ I’m finding his gaze exceptionally unnerving, so I decide to scrutinise the design on my glass instead. It’s nothing special, but my inebriated brain thinks it’s the best thing I’ve ever seen. ‘Do you think I could buy this? It’d be theperfectglass for when I go through my biannual phase of trying to drink more water.’
‘Take it,’ he says with a grin and a gentle slur, hand stilling on his own glass. ‘I dare you.’
I look at him, affronted. ‘I’m not athief,Finlay.’
‘KitKat Chunkies?’
‘They don’t count. I’m not going to steal this.’
He hunches forward, and I notice a dark freckle on his cheekbone that I hadn’t seen before. ‘Then you’ll be forever wondering what your life would’ve been like with a floral Rekorderlig pint glass in your possession.’
‘I think that’s a risk I’m willing to take.’ Through the stuffy air come the chimes of Big Ben as it strikes the hour, eleven loud clangs that jerk me out of my own head. I can’t help but swivel in my seat to look at the skyline in all its illuminated brilliance. ‘Fuck, thisview.’
When I turn back around I assume I’ll catch Finn analysing the skyline too. A jolt runs through me when I realise he’s looking directly at me, the slightest groove between his brows like I’m a puzzle he’s trying to solve. Holding my gaze, he says simply, ‘It’s a great view.’
Goosebumps prick along my arms despite the balmy air. A foggy part of my brain knows it could make a decision that could make a mess of everything, but before I get the chance to eitherlisten to it or tell it to shut up, my bladder informs me with utmost urgency that it requires imminent emptying.
‘I need to pee,’ I announce, snapping the tension like a rubber band and pushing back my chair to walk gingerly to the bathroom. It’s marked by two signs readingbuoysandgulls,which take me far longer to decipher than I’d care to admit.By some miracle there’s an empty stall and I lumber in, a fumbling hand sliding the lock as I try to reacquaint myself with gravity.
It’s not until I sit on the toilet that I have the epiphany. I amextraordinarilydrunk. I put my head in my hands as I sit there and feel the world move around me, half convinced the boat has detached from its mooring and we’re currently hurtling along the Thames.
It’s the best pee of my life. Or like, at least top ten. I’m not super confident my arms are attached to my torso anymore, so I let them flop down on either side of my knees, resting my chin on my legs.
I take a few deep breaths and contemplate my evening. It feels like three years ago that I was sat in a pub quiz with that guy. Fuck, what was his name? I wonder if he won by himself in the end. And then Finn showed up and didn’t bat an eyelid when I asked ridiculous questions like which of the Super Mario characters he’d sleep with. I mean, he doesn’t seem to bat an eyelid atanything.
My mind flashes back to the way he looked at me just before my bladder almost exploded. Surely I have no business dissecting a single look when I know we both agreed to our very specific, strangely regimented rules of friendship. He flirts with everyone he comes across. And it’s not like I’m not used to men looking at me. So why did the wayhelooked at me feel like he was crawling into my brain and making his own pathways between the neurones?
Nope, I need to sober up. I’ll just rest here for a while. Iamenjoying not using my arms.
‘Ava?’ a voice I don’t recognise calls from somewhere on the other side of the door. What a coincidence there are two Avas here at the same time. Maybe I’m peeing next to her. The disembodied voice speaks again. ‘Is there an Ava in here?’
There’s a knock on my door and it occurs to me that she may be talking to me. Through a tiny hole in the wooden door I see someone walk past, so I flush the toilet and collect myself before sliding the lock. There’s a woman standing at the sinks and I pull myself together enough to reply to her. ‘Hey, that’s me. What’s up?’
‘There’s a guy outside asking for you. If you don’t want to be found I’ll tell him you’re not here.’
Bless women and their camaraderie. ‘What does he look like?’ I assume I know who she’s referring to, but considering an old hook-up recently stumbled upon my place of work and dedicated poetry to me, it’s worth double-checking.
‘Glasses, blue shirt, curly brown hair. Fit, to be honest.’
‘Simultaneously looks like he could spout Star Trek trivia but also would’ve been the lifeguard you fancied at the hotel pool when you went to Spain with your family in year nine?’
The woman’s mouth opens and closes in bewilderment before she answers. ‘I mean, yeah. Just like that.’
Water splashes all over my top when I wash my hands. ‘Yeah, I know him, thank you. He’s just impatient. I’ll get to him in a sec.’
‘If a man who looked like that was asking after me, I’d be right there. Unless he’s, like, your brother or something. In which case, sorry to make these comments about your brother, but do you want a sister-in-law?’
I shudder. ‘He isdefinitelynot my brother. He’s my friend. My very antsy friend, apparently.’ I wipe my hands on my skirt and pull my phone from my bra, looking past the holographic boob sweat onthe screen to see a string of texts from Finn asking if I’m okay. I look up at the woman one more time. ‘Thanks for letting me know.’
She heads into the stall I just vacated and I glance at my reflection in the mirror, fixing my skirt, which has somehow drifted halfway in the wrong direction around my waist.
When I yank open the main door, I’m surprised to find Finn sprawled across the sofa at a table nearby, chatting to the two women at the table next to him. Something flickers over his face the moment he spots me. Relief? Then his mouth curves into a smile.
‘Is this Ava?’ one of the women asks, looking between us.
‘Have you been talking about me?’ I accuse, mustering every ounce of energy I have to separate my slurring words.
