The Harder They Fall (18 page)

Meanwhile, a few feet away, was the group that Andy and Dan would have been part of if they’d been here tonight. In the US, they’d have been The Jocks, with their height and athletic build. Dan’s friend ‘Aitch’ was holding court, using his pint as a prop to illustrate some kind of fancy manoeuvre. This group had honed their social skills to such perfection that every smile, laugh, nudge, utterance of ‘Yeah?’ was almost choreographed. Josh stifled a yawn just in time, for Aitch had spotted his attentiveness, excused himself from the group and was coming his way.

“Josh. Good to see you,” he smiled as he approached, vast, firm hand outstretched. Josh allowed his smaller, rather feminine hand (by comparison) to be shaken.

“You too. It’s great to see so many people here, isn’t it?”

“It is. No Dan though?”

“He’s in Nepal. He’s not very well either—picked up some virus or other.”

“I saw something about that on the news. It’s killed a good few people, they were saying. So, what’re you drinking?”

“Oh.” Josh was a little taken aback by the sudden switch mid-sentence, but Aitch wasn’t to know how worried they’d all been. “I’ll get these,” he suggested.

“No, I insist. I was buying one anyway.”

“OK. Lager, thanks.”

“Righteo.” Aitch queue-jumped about six other people and handed Josh his pint. “I take it you’ve had no more trouble from that Callaghan bloke?”

“No, thankfully. He’s in prison now. They decided he was sane after all.”

“Figures,” Aitch said, picking up his own pint. “See you later.” And off he went, back to his fellow meat-heads. It was at this point that Josh realised Eleanor hadn’t made it back to him, even though she’d only been just across the room, but that was a good twenty minutes ago. He scanned the crowd and eventually found her; she was talking to Shaunna and Adele and switching her weight between her feet. Their conversation was animated and serious and he could tell it was about Jess. He followed the direction of their occasional furtive glances, to a dark corner behind the DJ, where Rob and Jess were standing, their faces very close together, Jess flirting so obviously that it would be impossible to miss. She and Rob had always been this way; in fact, she was like this with any charming male company, and it didn’t necessarily need to be of the heterosexual variety, from what he’d seen over the years, with both George and Kris coming in for the occasional brush with those long legs. However, that kind of flirting was safe, or safer, and Andy certainly didn’t consider either of them a threat. Rob was a different matter and Adele was right. This was a case of Jess taking the opportunity of Andy’s absence to engage in one of her favourite pastimes, and who wouldn’t, if they were blessed with that figure and those looks? But it was a dangerous game she was playing and it could only end badly.

“She’s going to get herself in serious trouble one of these days,” Eleanor said, stumbling towards Josh and leaning on him to steady herself so that she could remove her shoes, then looking around for a stool to put them on, but there weren’t any free. Josh tutted and held out his hand. She smiled and draped the ankle straps over his index finger.

“I think that day might arrive sooner than we think, too,” he added.

“Well, so long as it’s not before next Saturday,” Eleanor remarked. Her glass was empty and she looked at his almost full pint in disdain.

“Aitch bought it.”

“Did he? That was nice of him.”

“Not really. He wanted to know where Dan was. I think the pint was just recompense for being a reliable informant. I take it you want a drink then?”

“How thoughtful of you to offer,” Eleanor grinned. She was sticking to orange juice and lemonade, on account of breastfeeding, but she was going to have a couple of ‘proper’ drinks later on, if she was in the mood. At the moment, she was enjoying watching everyone else become intoxicated, and had already witnessed a couple of interchanges that probably wouldn’t have taken place in alcohol-free conditions. These kinds of occasions tapped into long-buried sentiments of wars waged and won (or lost); on her way across to Josh, for instance, she’d overhead one of the ‘lads’ apologising to one of the ‘girls’ for being so mean to her at school. For her part, she acted out a convincing acceptance, but Eleanor remembered the many times that she and this other girl had both been hiding out in the school toilets, while she engaged in her ritual oesophageal abuse and the girl stood, arms folded and angry tears streaming down her face, insisting she was never coming to school again. An apology twenty years too late was never going to cut it.

“Shall we go and find somewhere to sit?” Eleanor suggested. “Only my feet are killing me.”

“Me too!” Josh remarked, holding up her shoes and wrinkling his nose.

“They don’t smell, do they?” She looked mortified.

“Nah. No worse than usual, anyway,” he grinned and she poked him in the ribs. There weren’t many tables in the room, and most were already taken, so they squeezed up in a corner with a bunch of other people, all with that same look of ‘being too old for this kind of nonsense’. Meanwhile, the DJ was ready to start cranking out some tunes, and Adele and Shaunna were first on the dance floor, with others quickly following their lead.

“Have you seen Kris and George recently?” Eleanor asked. She had obviously followed the same train of thought, as Josh had also been wondering why Kris wasn’t already up there giving it his all.

“They were over there somewhere just before,” Josh shouted, pointing over towards where most of the guests were still standing in their various groups. The DJ had turned up the music. “Jesus! I know we’re all getting on a bit, but we’re not bloody deaf—yet!”

“Pardon?” Eleanor shouted back. Josh looked at her, trying to decide whether she was joking or not. She sipped her drink and turned her attention to the dancers and he followed suit. Adele and Shaunna were having a great time, completely regressed to their teenaged days, when this was all they ever did, not a care in the world, giving themselves over completely to the music and the joy of being together, in their own little bubble of oblivion. Far behind them, mostly obscured by the brightness of the lights, Jess had her back turned and was standing in front of Rob, who was leaning against the wall. It was impossible to see more than this, and Eleanor was glad, because what she didn’t know couldn’t incriminate her. She hadn’t forgotten her offer of bailing Jess out if the need arose, but as things were it seemed that this was the last thing she wanted. For all of what had been said in the limo, she and Andy weren’t officially together. All of the friends knew of their closeness, which had grown over the past few years, but they weren’t an item, so Jess was free to flirt, or even have a fling with Rob, if that was what she wanted. With any other man, it probably wouldn’t have mattered near half as much, and she had to know that her actions could not pass without consequence.

A mixture of boredom and woe was starting to take over, so when the next track was a Wham! number, Eleanor grabbed Josh by the arm and pulled him to his feet. He left her shoes on the seat and followed her, feigning reluctance as they nudged their way into Adele and Shaunna’s circle of two. They hardly seemed to notice. The next song came on and Josh contemplated sneaking off and leaving Eleanor with the other two women, but then realised he was really enjoying dancing. It had been so long since he’d done it that he’d forgotten how much fun it was, not that he was particularly good at it, but it was liberating to just let the music take over, and so he danced through the next track, and the one after that, and so on, until it was Eleanor who wanted to stop.

“I’m just going to the loo,” she explained edgily.

“OK,” he replied. This wasn’t the same as the previous visits, he could feel it, and as he watched her meander bare-footed through the crowd and off down the hallway outside the ballroom, he cursed himself for not paying attention to her mood. He’d let the moment take over and in the time that had lapsed, something had happened. He started to worry, that worry rising to panic when he felt his phone vibrate and saw she had sent him a text message, which read:

He downed the rest of his now-warm lager in one go, went straight to the Ladies’ toilets, which were directly opposite the Gents’, and waited outside the door. Women smiled quizzically or sympathetically at him as they emerged, having already passed him once on the way in. Another text:

Well, he thought, isn’t that just great? All these women wandering in and out and she wanted him to go in there too. He took a deep breath and pushed against the door.

“This is the Gents’, mate,” a surly voice called from behind. He glanced back and identified the owner—one of Dan’s friends who was there at the time of ‘the unfortunate incident in the showers’. Terrific.

“Err, yeah, I know. Thanks anyway,” he said, blushing. There was nothing for it, but to put his head down and push on through. “Sorry, ladies,” he announced, as he speed-walked past the women lined up in front of the mirrors, all engaged in make-up re-application and a snide conversation about some poor soul who had been foolish enough to wear red shoes with a black dress. Cherise Williams et al again; and there he was thinking it couldn’t get any worse. He tuned out and lightly tapped on the second door along.

“Ellie. It’s me!”

The bolt clicked and the door opened a couple of inches.

“I’m so sorry, Josh. I’ve got a bit of a problem,” she said, ushering him inside and locking the door again. He heard the conversation on the other side switch to hissed whispers.

“Right?” he asked hesitantly. At least she hadn’t been vomiting, which was a good sign.

“I knew I should’ve expressed before I came out, but I didn’t have time. It was stupid of me, and now I…”

“I’m sorry, Ellie, but I haven’t got a clue what you’re on about.”

“Right. See, there’s this thing called a let-down, which is basically triggered when a feed is overdue, or you think about the baby, or something.”

“OK. Still not following.”

“I’m leaking milk, Joshua! And if it goes through to my dress it’s going to leave two big fat round nasty stains on my boobs!”

“Ah,” he said. “Now I understand. So what am I supposed to do about it, exactly?”

“I’ve phoned James and asked him to bring me some more breast pads, but these ones are soaked.” She nodded down the front of her dress, which she was holding away from her body. Josh glanced around the cubicle and spotted the absence of toilet paper.

“Do you want me to go and get some loo roll for the time being?”

“Please,” she nodded frantically. He unlocked the door and emerged into the crowded communal area, where Cherise and her pals instantly stopped whispering and glared at him. He flashed them a quick smile and checked the other doors. They were all locked.

“Balls,” he said and turned straight back. “They’re all engaged. Here: have this.” He unwrapped the pink silk scarf from his neck and held it out to her.

“Oh, Josh, thank you, but it’ll stain the fabric and you’ll never get it out. Apart from which, where would you put it for the rest of the night?” She started to make a creaking noise and jiggled uncomfortably.

“What’s the matter?”

“More sodding milk. I might as well give up now and just go home.”

“Oh no you don’t. It’ll be fine,” Josh assured her and pushed the scarf down the top of her dress. “Now you have no choice. I’ll go and wait outside for James.”

“OK.” She shoved the scarf down inside her bra. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” he replied, as he once again exited the tiny cubicle, bashfully making his way back through the women and out to the corridor, receiving some very odd looks along the way. He stepped out into the fresh air and was grateful for it, because his face was burning, from alcohol consumption and embarrassment. Soon after, James pulled up and wound down his window to pass through a bag of small round pads; they looked like wound dressings.

“I hope no-one’s watching,” Josh mumbled. “It might be a bit tricky to explain. Thanks for this.”

“No problem,” James replied. “Is she enjoying herself?”

“She was until she had a—can’t remember what she called it now.”

“Let-down,” James confirmed. “She usually feeds Toby in the evening and expresses for the next day.”

“Ah, I see. So, essentially she’s made enough milk to feed him for the next twenty-four hours. No wonder her pads were soaked through. Anyway, best go deliver these. Thanks again. See you later.”

James nodded his goodbye and drove off. Josh headed back inside and straight for the Ladies’, but then something caught his attention, just on the outskirts of his peripheral vision. It was George and Kris, and they were…

He pushed the door to the toilets open with so much force that he almost hit someone in the face.

“Oh God. I’m sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going,” he said, running now to get away. He hammered on the cubicle door and edged through the gap, handing the pads to Eleanor. She pulled his scarf free of her bra and bent to pick up her bag.

“What do you want me to do with this? I suppose I could put it in here and—what’s wrong?” She’d turned back to face him mid-sentence and he looked terrible.

“I just saw, well, I think I saw, err…”

“What did you see?”

“Err, I…it doesn’t matter. I probably imagined it.”

“All right then, what do you think you imagined you saw?”

“George and Kris,” he said. She shrugged, failing to see the significance. “Together.”

“What? You mean ‘together’ together?”

“I think they were kissing.”

“Seriously? Are you sure?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I was mistaken?” Josh suggested, willing it to be true. “I mean, the way George was feeling, I can’t see…and Kris wouldn’t do that, would he? No, I must’ve imagined it. Forget I said anything.”

Eleanor bit the inside of her cheek thoughtfully. “This’ll kill Shaunna—if you’re right, of course, about what you think you imagined you saw, or whatever it was.”