Gravitate (32 page)

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Authors: Jo Duchemin

BOOK: Gravitate
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We sat in the living room, in front of the fire, drinking sparkling wine, while Jade told me all about how she plann
ed to get her revenge on Mike.
She had designed a flyer warning all the female students that he was a lying, cheating scumbag – with a huge photograph of him, so that everyone w
ould know what he looked like.
She was going to photocopy it and pin it up all over the university.

“I will post it through every letterbox in the halls of residence, if I have to!” She shrieked with laughter
and we heard the doorbell ring.
I went t
o answer it and she came along.
The pizza delivery guy handed me the food, while Jade gave him the money and
flirted outrageously with him.
I could feel it was going to be a long night.

The pizza was great, it had been ages since I’d had a takeaway and t
he junk food tasted comforting.
I felt bloated afterwards, but when I put on the black dress I’d bought to wear tonight, I noticed that it was a bit loose; perha
ps I had lost weight after all.
Jade and I shared the mirror in my room, putting our make up
on and dancing to upbeat songs.
I was starting to feel more like my old self.

I purposely left my hair loose – wearing it up reminded me of Marty and the note he’d left for me when I’d been goin
g out for the evening with Ben.
I shook myself for thinking of him, yet again.

“What’s wrong?” Jade asked, mouth wide open as she applied her mascara.

My eyes f
lickered to hers in the mirror.
“I just thought of Mar
ty.
I miss him, but I’m really t
rying to move on with my life.”
I said it more for him, in case he was watching, rather than for her.

“Onwards and upwards!” Jade replied, ho
lding up her glass for a toast.
I held mine up and chinked my glass to hers, but
I didn’t speak.
There would never be anyone who could
be a move upwards from Marty.

“Are you ready?” I asked her.

“Yes, what time is the taxi coming?”

I glanced at my
mobile phone to check the time. “In five minutes.
I’ll pay for the taxi there, you pay for the one home, OK?”

“Deal.” Jade smiled. “W
atch
out world, here come the girls!
Time for
a quick drink before we leave?
It’ll save us money once we’re out.”

We finished off the bottle of fizzy wine before the taxi arrived, then grabbed our coats and bags and rushed out of the door when we heard the driver bibbing his horn.

The taxi dropped us off in town by a popular pub
, which was already quite busy.
Our plan was to have a couple of drinks in here and then move on to a nightclub which played cheesy
music and dance the night away.

We fought our way to the bar and Jade winked at the b
arman – he came straight over.
Jade had recently dyed her hair blonde and was definitely living up to the sayi
ng that blondes have more fun.
She turned to me.

“What do you want?”

Marty.
“A vodka and cranberry juice, please.”

She turned back to the barman. “Two double vodka and cranberry juices, please.”

“For pretty girls like you, I’ll make them a triple,” the barman winked back at Jade and I felt like rolling my e
yes.
Before my parents had died, I would have been thrilled at being given an extra shot of alcoho
l in my drink by a cute barman. Nothing impressed me anymore.
Nothing seemed exciting.

We took our drinks over to a sofa and sat down to try and hold a conversation over the music and blended babble of the
other conversations in the pub.
Jade was keeping an eye out for good looking men and kept pointing out the
ones she thought would suit me. I kept shaking my head.
There wasn’t anyone in here for me.

“He’s not my type.” I kept repeating to her.

“What is your type?”

Marty.
“None of the men in here.”

“Oh, come on, that’s no fun.
You need to be my wing-man…I mean wing-
girl…that doesn’t sound right!”
She laughed lo
udly and a few men looked over.
She flashed a smile at them that could have outshone the
Blackpool
il
luminations.

“I don’t think you need any help in attracting men, Jade.”

“Down your drink, let’s go dancing.” Jade knocked back her own drink, but I still had over half of mine left – there was no way I would be a
ble to drink it down in one go.
I handed it to her, after all, she was the one on a mission.

“You have it, I’ll have some more at the club.”

Jade shrugged her shoulders, took my drink from me
and finished it off in one go.

We walked to the club, which was only around the corner, in an unsteady fashion – the dangerous combination of stiletto heels, drink and icy pavements
causing us to take extra care.
I was grateful that there wasn’t a queue at the door – I’d never been impressed by having to queue up to get into any club and in the freezing temperature it
would be highly uncomfortable.

We paid the bored-looking woman behind the entry counter and checked
our coats into the cloakroom.
Jade was ready for another drink, but I stalled
her with a trip to the toilets.
I took my time checking my hair and reapplying lip gloss, though I knew in my heart there was nob
ody I wanted to look good for.

It was my round and I decided
a cocktail might lift my mood.
Jade, of course, thought a round of c
ocktails would be a great idea.
We settled on ordering a Long Island Iced Tea and a Pina Colada, watching the barman with a degree of amusement as he tried to show off his Tom Cruise skill
s, which were mediocre at best.
Jade and I dissolved into a fit of laughter when the barman forgot to put the lid on the blender and violent sprays of pineapple juice and co
conut cream decorated the bar.
It f
elt good to laugh, to be silly.

The barman cleaned up and eventually placed the dr
inks on the bar in front of us.
His shirt was wet in streaks at the front where he’d
covered himself in my drink.
I sipped it – it was worth t
he effort; tropical and smooth.
I could feel it breathing
sunshine into my wintery mood.

Jade and I swapped cocktails for a bit to see which one we preferred, d
eciding it was the Pina Colada.
The barman rolled his eyes when we called him over and ordered
another two Pina Coladas.
We watched him, waiting for another mistake to make us laugh, but he didn’t forget the
lid of the blender this time.

“What’s that song about the Pina Coladas?” Jade asked me.

“Th
e Pina Colada Song,” I giggled.
Jade was being very blonde tonight.

“That’s the one – do
you like Pina Coladas
?
” Jade st
arted singing and I joined in.

The barman stared at us.
“If you like that song so much, why don’t you go and request it at the DJ booth?” he said.

I could
take the hint.
“Good idea,” I said, “I don’t have enough cash for a
nother round of drinks anyway!”
I grabbed Jade’s hand in mine, my drink in the other hand and led her to the dance floor, whe
re the DJ booth was located.

Jade leant over the barrier of the booth, making her cleavage look
even more impressive than ever.
The DJ came straight over and she whispered loudly to him, a
sking for the Pina Colada Song.
He wi
nked at her, smiled and nodded.
I didn’t know what it was about Jade, but men seemed to wink at her constantly – it was like she brought out a facial tick in them.

The DJ cued up the song and we took our drinks with us onto the dance floor, singing at the top of our lungs a
nd giggling away to each other.
I could almost remember what this used to feel
like, to be carefree and fun.

We danced and sang along to the cheesy music the DJ played for quite a while, as the
dance floor started to fill up.
A group of three men had spotted Jade and were rather obviously dancing their way towards us. They lacked subtlety
but seemed like harmless guys.
Jade welcomed the attention and seemed to ha
ve set her eyes on one of them.
He might not be her Mr Right, but he
was clearly her Mr Right-Now.
I whispered in her ear that I was going to sit down and pointed to an empt
y booth facing the dance floor.
I could see Mr Right-Now’s friends were both rating their chances with me and I didn’t want to have to sour the evening by rejecting anyone; better to leave now before Jade started sticking her tongue down Mr Right-Now
’s throat.

I sat in the booth, watching the drunk patrons gyrati
ng together on the dance floor.
I’d timed my exit well – Jade and Mr Right-Now were getting very well acquainted and his friends had focu
sed on another group of girls.
I watched the various dramas unfolding around the dance floor – it was like a nature documentary o
n the mating rituals of humans.
It wasn’t a world I fel
t that I belonged in any more.

The balls of my feet were starting to throb in my new shoes and I was grateful to be sitting down,
but I really wanted to go home.
I’d been kidding myself that a couple of cocktail
s would gloss over my feelings.
I felt oddly sober, considering the amount of drinks I had consumed
during the course of the night.
Perhaps I could just tell Jade I was going h
ome and get straight in a taxi.
I remembered that I’d spent the last of my cash on cocktails at the bar and I didn’t want to walk to th
e cash-point alone in the dark.
I was stuck here until Jade was ready to go home.  I glanced back at the
dance floor.
She wouldn’t want to leave until closing time, I
could tell that straight away.
I check
ed the time on my mobile phone.
There were two and a half hour
s to go until the club closed.

I remained sat down, watching the dancers and singing along to the songs, trying to pretend I was having a good time, but wishing my life away, wishing for every second to pass
until I could go home. I hadn’t been ready for this.
Occasionally, men would wander past the booth, as though they were considering sit
ting down and chatting me up.
I hid my face and focused on my mobile phone, pretending I was in the middle of s
ending a really important text.
They didn’t know that the person I wished to con
tact the most was unavailable.

I jumped when a glass of champagne was placed in front of me.

I looked up and saw Sam Acton, carrying a tray with a bottle of Moet and Chandon and another glass on it.

“You look like a girl in need of champagne,” he said loudly, to be heard over the throbbing music.

“Thanks,” I replied, surprised to see him, but grateful for the drink.

“Do you mind if I join you?”

“Oh, of course,” I said, embarrassed by my lack of manners, “what are you doing here, Mr Acton?”

“Sam. Please.
Mr Acton makes me sound like somebody’s father.”

“You are somebody’s father,” I smiled, “Ben’s father.”

“Don’t r
emind me, it makes me feel old.
And as to why I’m here; the works’ Christmas party decided to move on to here and I came to buy one round for the team before I head home.”

I looked out onto the dance floor and noticed a few of the staff members from the
company strutting their stuff. They looked very merry indeed.
“They look like they’re having a great night,” I commented.

“Which
is more than you,” he guessed.
His eyes lingered on mine and I looked away, unwil
ling to spread my unhappiness.

“I came out too soon, I’m not ready for this.” I took a swig of the champagne, trying to swallow the lump that had formed in my throat.

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