Out Late with Friends and Regrets (18 page)

“Of course, and my Snoopy jim-jams. It’ll be nice to see your flat sober.”

“Hmm, don’t recall sobriety being on the agenda.”

“Ellie! You don’t set a girl a good example at
all
.”

Ellie had been scanning the wine list, as the waiter returned.

“Would you like an aperitif? Or shall we get a bottle in straight away?” she asked.

“Tell you what, I’ll buy the drinks. What would you like?” replied Fin.

Ellie clapped the wine list shut loudly, and turned to the waiter.

“Excellent.
 
Tell the boss to dig out that priceless bottle of Chateau Margaux he’s got hidden in the cellar – don’t worry about the cost, my friend’s paying!”

For the briefest moment, Fin’s heart lurched, and she was making rapid mental calculations of how she was going to afford it, when Ellie’s knee nudged hers under the table and she ordered a cheerful Chilean from halfway down the card.

“Beast.”

“You’re OK with Cab Sauv, I recall.
 
And I did say I’d buy you dinner – my remorse even extends to drinks, by the way.”

They ordered, and Ellie asked how things were going with the sale. Fin brought her up to date, and Ellie said, ”You’re going to have to do some searching at this end on your own account, you know. Otherwise you’re going to end up with nowhere to go.”

“Up a gum tree without a paddle.”

“Yup.”

“Oh, I’ll take a whole day to look at some stuff soon. I’m pretty sick of the whole business. Anyway, I’m resigned to renting for a while. The synchronicity of my life isn’t
that
good.”

“Just make sure you don’t end up in a block with majority student occupation. You’ll be sorry, I promise you! Funny how one grows out of being at ease with squalor.”

Fin smiled. It would have been exciting to have had the student experience. Still, it had been her own fault, and there was nothing to stop her being a student now if she felt like it, once she was settled, and assuming she could support herself
and
afford the fees.

They turned their attention to the excellent food.
 
Eating out hadn’t featured too often in Fin’s life, and she was determined to make the most of it. At home she ate healthily for the most part, but was a lazy cook; the superbly presented dishes at The Study were a revelation. Hardly a word was spoken during the scallops she chose for her starter, but as she ate the last of them, mumbling something about orgasm on a plate, Ellie put a hand on hers.

“At the risk of getting you so excited you give the other diners a Meg Ryan moment,” she said, “you’ve got an invite to the queer party of the year.”

“Oh, wow! Whose? When?”

“It’s Professor Annette Harney, head of Archaeology – she’s written a stack of well-respected books, and she’s been on telly loads of times. She’s going to be sixty – she’d kill me for telling you, so don’t say I told you – not that you’d know she was anything like – she’s always got a good-looking woman in tow, when she’s not down some Assyrian hole.”

“Sounds like a character!”

“You bet. And it’s Saturday week, so don’t let anything stand in the way of coming.
 
It’s being held in the big sports hall, next to the squash courts, if you remember. Of course, it’ll be totally het-friendly, there’ll be loads of people of all persuasions, from all over the university, all faculties. Including a few who
have
to be invited, like bloody Henry Moffet…”

Before Fin could ask about bloody Henry Moffet her main course arrived, wreathed in an aura of exquisite aromas.

“Looks quite edible, for a veggie dish,” commented Ellie, sniffing, then contemplating her own lamb with satisfaction.

“I’m a carnivore at heart,” replied Fin; “I just fancied trying the most exotic dish on the menu.”

“Fill yer boots, girl.
 
We can discuss your carnivorous appetites later!”

Conversation fell away, as they savoured the sheer sensuous pleasure of eating.
 
A second bottle of wine came and went. Both chose a tiny chocolate mousse with the fumey kick of a mule for pudding, followed by coffee and a boutique whisky.

Fin sighed, sitting back and expanding her ribcage, thinking that the ghastly night with Cecilia might have been worth it, after all.

“Fancy going to Jetsam’s?” asked Ellie. “Should be a good crowd in. I’m going to have to go back and change first, though. You up for it?”

“Of course,” said Fin, beaming through a pleasant haze of alcohol and satisfaction. Ellie called for the bill and gave the waiter her card, but left a ten pound note and some coins as a tip.

Ye gods, thought Fin, that must have come to a bit. Bloody good, though…

As they stepped into the street Ellie thumbed her phone with swift, sure jabs.

“Just checking to see if Archer’s in the area – Hello? Archer? Uh-huh… OK, no problem…” She snapped the cover shut.
 
“The ratbag’s got a fare.
 
Not surprising, this time on a Saturday.
 
Let’s sit in the bar and I’ll see if Abcabs have got anyone else free. You can buy me a drink, if you like.”

“My pleasure, dear lady,” replied Fin.
 
As she spoke, an oversized drop of rain landed on her head, swiftly followed by several more. They retreated into the bar and a loud drumroll of thunder sounded overhead, followed by hard, fast rain.

“Another Glenfarclas, Ellie?”

“Yes please.”

“Two please, darling, a double and a single,” said Fin, smiling at the bartender and looking directly into her eyes.

“Chicken! Unless the double’s for yourself, of course,” teased Ellie.

“Mmm,” replied Fin, slightly distracted by the fact that the girl had smiled back with what she fancied was a confidential air.

“Oi! Miss Randypants! Behave yourself, will you? I dunno, a couple of drinks and she’s anybody’s!”

“Just practising, you know, for next time…” grinned Fin, managing to touch the girl’s hand momentarily as she paid for the drinks.
 
She was enjoying the sensation of being slightly insulated from her usual, deeply-ingrained code of good behaviour.

“Honestly, Fin,” said Ellie, placing a hand on Fin’s thigh as she leant forward on her stool, “you really won’t have any trouble attracting
loads
of lovely girls, you’re such a
lovely
girl yourself,” and delivered a friendly little slap before resuming her upright position.
 
Fin realised that Ellie was as pleasantly drunk as she was herself, and held up her glass in a toast.

“Lezbe friends.”

“Idiot.”

Ellie tapped the keypad of her phone and called the taxi firm. Fin blurred her eyes and enjoyed the waves of rain sliding down the window.
 
Installation art…

“He’ll be here in ten or so,” said Ellie.

Fin sighed happily and refocused, nose over the glass. It seemed hardly any time at all before Ellie spotted the cab outside, its driver craning his neck to see if the clients were at the door.

“That was never ten minutes, but never mind,” she commented. “You ready, flower?”

Feeling an airy sense of detachment from her surroundings, Fin threw back her drink and shuffled after Ellie, and they picked their way through a knot of wet customers near the entrance.

As they sank into the taxi’s comfortable back seat, Ellie directed the driver, who slid the dividing panel shut.
 
The rain made a pleasing rattle on the steel roof as the muffled grumble of the engine worked its way up and down the gears. Their back seat capsule felt delightfully enclosed.

“Thank you Ellie. Thank you really much. It was
so
lovely.”

“My absolute pleasure indeed,” said Ellie, brushing raindrops off the shoulders of her suit.

“Oh, but keep your wetness to yourself, will you? I’m pretty wet myself, you know.”

“Ooh, there’s an admission!”

“
Ellie
! You’re assolutely – “

It was a mixture of the drink, and the smell of Ellie’s La Perla perfume mixed with wet worsted.
 
It was the steamy, intimate atmosphere of the taxi, and the rain on the roof. It was the enigmatic smile of the girl at the bar. Most of all it was the pressure of all the pent-up feelings that had been ricocheting around inside her for too long.
 
Fin was suddenly, overwhelmingly, helplessly overcome with lust. She seized Ellie’s head in her hands, and kissed her, exploring her mouth avidly with her tongue.
 
Sliding a hand inside the black jacket she passed her palm over Ellie’s left breast, longing to feel its response.
 
She wound her leg around Ellie’s, and turned her body, pressing her knee into Ellie’s crotch.
 
Ellie gasped.
 
Fin felt a thousand snakes writhing urgently in the confines of her lower body. It was the worst itch in the world.

“Hey, kid…”
 
The big voice was a croak, barely audible. “What’s all this?”

“Don’t stop me, Ellie, I don’t know if I can -”
 
Fin was breathing heavily.

“It’s not me you want, sweetheart -”

“God, Ellie, I’ve got to -
 
I really, really need -”

“Hang on, babe – you have to wait –”

“Tell the driver to fucking step on it – I want you, Ellie, I
want
you…”

“It’s OK, we’re nearly there – look, we’re at Weir Street now -”

Ellie disentangled herself and thrust a five pound note through to the driver for the short journey, and they tumbled out into the hammering rain.
 
Fin clutched Ellie’s arm as if she feared an escape attempt, her legs aimless as those of a newborn foal, and they wove a ragged path to the door to the block, Fin already tearing at her own clothing and Ellie urging her to hold on.
 
By the time the lift reached Ellie’s floor Fin had her jacket and one sleeve of her shirt off; at Ellie’s front door she was topless.

There was that light fitting again.
 
Modern, metal, grey.
 
Ellie’s flat.
 
Ellie’s flat!

A rush of images clamoured for attention, together with the awful knowledge that they weren’t a dream; their blurriness was due to the fog of drink which had apparently obscured all principle and inhibition. She had behaved in an appalling manner, embarrassed Ellie, made a total prat of herself, and had probably lost the respect and friendship on which she had been relying to take her forward into a brave new future.

She groaned silently, and concentrated on the pain in her head, almost relishing its severity as a well-deserved punishment.
 
Specifics of the night’s events came to her, and deepened her misery. If she thought for a second that her own daughter had ever acted as she had herself in the last few hours, she would be horrified beyond words.
 
Anna had always been pretty well-adjusted, considering the war of attrition between father and daughter that had driven her to leave home early.
 
The boyfriends Anna mentioned in her e-mails sounded interesting and fun.
 
Anna would never, ever act with any of them as her mother just had with Ellie.
 
Hopefully.

Well, she would need to get up, apologise to Ellie and make a swift exit.
 
Then re-plan her life. No, not take the cottage off the market and return to running O-T-T-shirts, she had moved on from that.
 
Maybe sell the shop after all, go to, oh, where? Manchester? Brighton? Glasgow? London would be far too expensive, of course.
 
She was confident that she could settle anywhere. Anywhere except Harford...