“Just how much gin have you had, Beth?” Sarah said.
“You mean it’s not true?”
Maria hid her smile as I turned my laugh into a cough.
Sarah sighed. “At least he’ll be here soon.”
“Perhaps she shouldn’t meet him at all then,” Beth muttered. “Who’d want to start a relationship based on lies?”
“Does it seem busier?” said Maria. She was right; it was getting to be standing room only.
“Move over, move over!” Jeremy clambered back onto his chair, his coat bulging. “Here.” He unzipped to reveal a bulky paper bag transparent with grease stains. “Courtesy of the Hangman’s Daughter.”
“What on earth . . . ?” Maria said.
“Pies!” Jeremy grinned.
We looked to Sarah for her reaction. After the minutest of pauses, she was the first one into the bag. We all followed suit. Beth wrinkled her nose until Jeremy handed her an individually wrapped cheese pie. She took it, slightly mollified.
* * *
“Evie, have you seen this?” Maria had her phone out. She wiped her screen clear of pastry flakes and showed me. It was the Bitch About It website.
MONICA REED TOSSES BOY TOY
“It’s everywhere,” she said. “They had a huge public row.” Maria paused for dramatic effect. “He said he wasn’t looking for a second mother, and she told him she didn’t need a third child. She needed a partner who wasn’t intimidated by a woman’s success.” I nodded, smiling for her, but I couldn’t help feeling a little sorry for NOB. He was an arse, but a breakup was bad enough without the national media getting involved. Maria gave me a thoughtful look as she took her phone back.
There was a commotion on the other side of the room. As my friends all craned their necks to see, I got out my phone. There was another message from Ben, but I opened the chat thread with NOB first.
RED: are you OK? I saw the news
NOB: Why wouldn’t I be?
RED: are you sure? Because I have a tried and tested Broken Heart Film Marathon I can recommend to you. Guaranteed to make you feel better
NOB: Thanks, Red. But it isn’t broken. Tell me about the meet-cute
Fine. If he didn’t want to talk about it, I wasn’t going to push. Besides, I could cheer him up simply by telling him about my most recent attempt to meet someone.
RED: first of all, the cottage contained a giant rat
“What are these people doing now?” Jeremy asked, licking pastry from his thumb. I followed his gaze. A heavyset bald man had pushed two pool tables together and covered them with boards. People were starting to clear a space as if this was a normal occurrence. As he wheeled over some steps that had been against the back wall covered in a black cloth, Beth suddenly stood. “Just making a call!” she said, struggling past my chair. “I’m going to be the best bridesmaid.”
NOB: What cottage?
I scrolled up so I could highlight the picture I’d sent him.
It wasn’t there.
A sensation like ice water spread down my neck. I checked my sent items.
Ben. I’d sent Ben a message saying the ruined hen do was all his fault, and he’d replied.
BEN: right.
Oh, no. Time for some damage control. I’d just explain to him it was a simple mistake.
“Uh-oh,” Jeremy said, making me look up. He shoved the remains of his pie into his mouth. I followed his gaze to see the heavyset man making his way over toward us.
Maria hastily tried to gather all our crumbs with the edge of her palm.
“Which one of you is looking for Lawrence?” the man grunted.
“That would be Evie here,” said Sarah quickly.
The man’s unimpressed eyes met mine.
“Come on, then.”
I looked to my friends for help.
“No taking a backseat,” said Jeremy.
“You’ll be okay,” Maria told me. She plucked my phone from my grasping fingers and gave me a little nudge. “We’re right here.”
Sarah raised her own phone. “Making sure there’s a record of whatever happens.”
Maybe they hadn’t quite forgiven me.
Somewhat reluctantly, I followed the path the man cut across the bar—was he Lawrence? His arms dangled at his sides, propped up by vast muscles like swimming armbands. He wasn’t my usual type, but, to keep Sarah happy, I should really be positive. Plus, I’d had a lot of gin.
The man led me to the covered pool tables. There was now a table and chair balanced on top of them. He held out his hand and I automatically took it. He shook me off, irritably. Apparently he’d just been gesturing for me to climb up the stairs. As I did, I saw that someone had placed a lit candle and a single red rose on the table. Was this about to be a very public first date? I glanced back at my traitorous friends, who waved me on.
When I was seated, a spotlight came on directly overhead. Everyone’s eyes turned to me as music pounded out across the pub. The disco ball on the ceiling started to spin, and the black cloth was yanked from the stairs to reveal that they were glittering pink.
I was on a stage.
The bald man was now holding a microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, the Fox’s Den is proud to present, back for good this time, our resident drag act and absolute queen, Lawrence of a Labia’s famous Karaoke Singalong.”
What?
A hush fell over the room and the crowd parted.
A stunning woman in a glittering black leotard, fishnets, huge blond hair and towering platforms strode toward the stage singing Shirley Bassey’s “Big Spender.” She glanced over at me, thick eyelashes closing in a wink.
It was the male bartender with the beautiful brows, dressed up to the nines.
The music dipped and she announced, “First, a confession.” Her head bowed over the mic, nails glittering. “It’s true. I was briefly seduced by the Hangman’s Daughter.” She deepened her voice. “I couldn’t resist her pies.” More laughter. “Now, I heard a rumor this redheaded minx has been asking after me all night. So, my dear.” Lawrence placed one of her long, slender legs on the tabletop in a half-split. “Whatever would you like to do with me?”
I’m fairly sure I squeaked.
“How about you just tell me what song you’d like to sing?”
I stared beseechingly at my friends, but they were much too busy enjoying the show.