‘No way! How revolting!’
‘Come on,’ Tom said pleadingly. ‘Fess up for Uncle Tom, we’re all girls here, there’s nothing to be ashamed of.’ There was another silence, and Clare laughed.
‘Sorry, that’s what you get for coming away with squares like us. Come on, take it like a man.’
Tom downed his shot, refilled and then lay back on the sofa, his hand over his eyes. ‘Bloody hell, I’m paying for a mis-spent youth now. The room’s spinning.’
‘Your turn, Lee,’ Clare said from the sofa. Her face was flushed, and her golden hair straggled across her shoulders. ‘Spill.’
My stomach turned. This was the moment I’d been dreading. I’d spent the last round trying to grope my way past the fog of tequila and Champagne and rum and think what to say, but every memory seemed to bring me back to James. I thought of all the things I’d never done, never said. I shut my eyes and the room seemed to lurch and shift.
It was one thing to play this game with a roomful of friends, who already knew pretty much everything there was to say, but not this uneasy mix of strangers and old acquaintances. I have never … oh God, what could I say?
I never found out why he did it.
I never forgave him.
I never got over him.
‘Lee …’ Clare said in a sing-song voice. ‘Come on now, don’t make me embarrass you in the next round.’
There was a vile taste of tequila and coke at the back of my mouth. I couldn’t afford to drink again. If I did I’d be sick.
I never really knew him at all.
How could he be marrying Clare?
‘I have never had a tattoo,’ I blurted out. I knew I was on safe ground with that, Tom had already admitted to having one.
‘Crap …’ he groaned and downed his shot.
Flo laughed, ‘Come on! You don’t get off that easily. Show and tell, please.’
Tom sighed and unbuttoned his shirt, revealing an expanse of tanned, toned chest. He slid the sleeve down one shoulder and turned to show us. It was a heart, pierced with an arrow and crossed with the flowing letters ‘Not so Dumb’ in italic script. ‘There.’ He began buttoning up his shirt. ‘Now come on you others, I can’t be the only one.’
Nina said nothing, but simply pulled up the ankle of her jeans, showing a small bird of some kind on the tendon running up from her ankle.
‘What is it?’ Flo peered closer. ‘Blackbird?’
‘It’s a falcon,’ Nina said. She did not elaborate but simply pulled her jeans back and downed her shot. ‘How about you then?’
Flo shook her head. ‘Too much of a scaredy-cat! Clare does though!’
Clare grinned and heaved herself up off the sofa. She turned her back to us and pulled up her silver top. It shimmered like a fish skin. Twining up from the back of her jeans were two black Celtic designs, curving out towards her slim waist.
‘Arse antlers!’ Nina gave a snort.
‘Youthful folly,’ Clare said, a touch ruefully. ‘Drunken trip to Brighton when I was twenty-two.’
‘They’re going to look delightful when you’re an old lady,’ Nina said. ‘At least they’ll provide a homing path for the young man slated to wipe your arse in the nursing home.’
‘It’ll give him something to look at, poor sod.’ Clare pulled down her top, laughing, and flung herself back on the sofa. She drained her shot. ‘Mels?’ she called out.
But Melanie had dragged the phone out into the hall; only the trailing wire and the sound of her low, urgent voice gave away her location. ‘… And he took the bottle?’ we heard from the hallway. ‘How many ounces?’
‘Screw that,’ Nina said decisively. ‘Man overboard. Right. I have never … I have never … I have never …’ She looked from me to Clare, and there was suddenly a very wicked expression on her face. My stomach flipped. Nina, drunk, is not always a nice person to be around. ‘I have never fucked James Cooper.’
There was an uncertain laugh round the room. Clare shrugged and drank.
Then her cornflower blue eyes, and Nina’s coffee brown ones turned on me. There was an absolute silence, broken only by Florence and the Machine telling us that her boy built coffins.
‘Fuck you, Nina.’ My hand was trembling as I tossed back the drink. Then I got up and walked out into the hallway, my cheeks burning, and suddenly feeling very, very drunk.
‘You can always give him half a banana for breakfast,’ Melanie was saying. ‘But if you give him grapes, cut them in half first or use that mesh thing.’
I pushed past her up the stairs, Flo’s bemused, ‘What? What happened?’ following me as I fled.
On the landing I burst into the bathroom and locked the door behind me. Then I knelt in front of the toilet retching and retching until there was nothing left to throw up.