‘To the most stunning woman in Whitsborough Bay.’ Curtis clinked his ‘Flirtini’ glass against mine.
‘To the hottest man in Scotland,’ I toasted back. ‘And to a great night out.’
‘I guarantee that, but I can’t guarantee you’ll remember it all because I intend to get you absolutely paralytic tonight. If you don’t puke your guts up, I’ll consider it my personal failure.’
‘Can we just stick with the paralytic and avoid the puking part? I promise I’m a cheap date because paralytic will probably only take three of these.’
Curtis took my hand and brought it to his lips. ‘You, my beauty, could never be referred to as cheap.’
‘Gosh, Curtis, I’ve missed you so much. Why have we left it so many years?’
Curtis did a dramatic shrug of his shoulders and flung his arms out, nearly spilling his drink. ‘Life, Red. Life got in the way. Plus, setting up what I’m sure will become Glasgow’s finest hair salon requires working your arse off at weekends and makes catching up with fabulous friends like you a wee bit tricky. But I’m here now. Do you want to talk about your gay husband?’
‘Not really.’ And especially not after his surprising offer last night.
‘Good, because neither do I. Instead, I have a wicked plan. Down these then take me to a quiet pub.’
‘A quiet pub?’
‘Yes. I have very specific requirements. No music and quite a lot of people, preferably middle-aged to old.’
I frowned. ‘You’re describing The Grey Goose which hasn’t changed since you left. I can’t imagine that’s your kind of place.’
‘Oh, it isn’t. I hate that pub. But we’re going to play a wee game and it’s the perfect venue for it. Now down that in one and let’s go.’
‘You see that couple over there,’ Curtis said while we waited for our drinks at the bar of The Grey Goose.
‘What, the couple who aren’t speaking, but clearly feel an obligation to come out to the pub given that it’s Friday night?’
‘That’s the ones. Do you know them?’
‘No.’
‘Do you know anyone in the pub?’
I looked round. There were twenty or so drinkers scattered around the place in couples and singles. The minimum age was late fifties and the dress code was beige. ‘No. Nobody.’
‘Brilliant. We can have some fun, then, without sullying your reputation as an upstanding department head. We’re going to give those two something to talk about. Play along.’ Before I could ask to what I’d be playing along, he’d taken a seat next to the silent couple and I felt I had to follow.
‘So, it burns when you pee?’ he announced.
I spat my drink back into the glass. It was either that or the table. ‘Curtis!’
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘It’s just that I’ve had a burning sensation too and I wondered whether it’s because a brother and sister shouldn’t sleep together…’
The evening quickly descended into depravity from that point.
We burst through the doors of Minty’s, clinging to each other and giggling hysterically.
‘I seriously can’t believe you came out with all of that,’ I said. ‘You’re a sick, sick puppy, Curtis McBride.’
‘Elise? Curtis?’
I looked up. ‘Sarah! My best friend!’ I flung my arms round her. ‘It’s been weeks. Why’s it been so long?’
Sarah let go of me and wrinkled her nose. ‘Because you’ve been avoiding me?’ she suggested.
I nodded. ‘Good point. S’nothing personal. It’s just… cos of Gary… and weddings… you know…?’
‘I know. But we didn’t have to talk about either of those subjects unless you’d wanted to, did we?’
Even in my drunken state, I could hear the edge to her voice and knew that I’d hurt her. So much for friendship-preservation. Staying away had probably caused more damage than moaning about Gary instead of wedding-planning would have done. Damn! ‘Sorry. We’ll go out soon. I promise.’
She smiled. ‘I’ll hold you to it. Speaking of long time, no see, how are you, Curtis?’ She spoke in the forced pleasant tone that I knew she reserved for awkward customers. She didn’t dislike Curtis; she just worried that he tended to land me in trouble whenever we were together. It was a legitimate concern because he usually did.
Curtis grabbed her and twirled her round like he’d done with me at the station earlier then gave her a big smacker on the cheek. ‘All the better for seeing you. I believe congratulations are in order.’
‘Thank you.’ She held out her hand so Curtis could admire the ring.
‘Stunning. Just like you. I’m liking the soft curls by the way. Perfect for your bone structure. Gorgeous.’
The flattery had clearly worked because her tone changed to genuinely polite. ‘Would you like to join us? We’re over there.’ She pointed towards the back of the bar then pulled a face. ‘Clare’s here, though. So if you don’t want to…’
Curtis put a protective arm round my shoulder. ‘I’ll protect her from The Rampant Leprechaun.’ We both howled with laughter. Talk about an echo from the past. I’d completely forgotten that Curtis has christened her that. What a great memory he had.
‘O-kay.’ Sarah looked like she was already regretting the invite.
‘We’ll get some drinks then join you.’ Curtis shooed her away. ‘Give us ten minutes or so.’
With a worried look, Sarah returned to her group. I could see Nick’s head and there was another man with them, but I couldn’t see him properly. I bobbed about to get a better view. Stevie? He nodded his head towards me and smiled. I gave him a little wave as a pang of guilt shot through me for turning down his offers of a shoulder to cry on since he’d helped me move.
‘Tequila time!’ Curtis placed two shot glasses in front of me, alongside a saucer of lemon pieces and a salt cellar.
‘Oh no.’
‘Oh yes. One, two, three…’
I’m not entirely sure how my unsteady legs managed to carry me across the bar to Sarah’s group, but Curtis’s supporting arm certainly helped. Sarah jumped up when she saw us and did the introductions while Nick pulled up extra chairs. I was relieved to sit down before I collapsed in an undignified heap on the floor.
‘Clare. Great to see you as always,’ I said, pointing to her.
‘Elise!’ Sarah hissed. ‘Be nice.’
‘I am being nice. I said it was great to see her.’
‘It’s the way you said it.’
‘Shhhh.’ I put my finger to my lips and missed. ‘Anyway, it’s rude to whisper.’
‘How are you, Elise?’ Clare said.
‘It turns out my husband’s gay and it’s taken him fifteen years to admit it so my whole marriage has been a lie. I only found out because I found him shagging his best friend in our shower.’ I pointed at Stevie. ‘So we’ve split up and I’m living in Sarah’s auntie’s spare room. So, as you can probably imagine, I’m feeling pretty shit right now. But thanks for asking. Or should I just have given the standard answer of fine?’