Page 120 of Tangled Up In You

“Gavin,” she said, and closed her eyes tightly in dismay. “Where are you?”

“I’m with some friends. We’re hanging out and having a good time. You should come meet us. Do you want to come meet us? We’ll have a great time. I can give you directions—let me just figure out where the hell I am.” He laughed, clearly amusing himself.

“I don’t want to meet you, not if you’re doing what I think you are.”

“What—having a good time? No, you wouldn’t want any part of that, would you?” he snapped.

“What does that mean?” she asked, taken aback.

“I don’t understand why you have to jump down my throat, Sophie. Why do you have to give me hassle when I’m finally having a good time?”

“Is that what I’m doing?”

“Aren’t you?”

“I don’t mean to,” she said, despite herself. She was in the right to be short with him. It was obvious he was playing with cocaine again and she knew no other way to react than to be upset about it. But he had a way of turning things, making her feel she was being unduly harsh, especially if all he was getting out of his experimentation was a good time.

“So don’t, darlin’. Just don’t.”

“Okay. Tell me where you are, baby. I want to be with you.”

The neighborhood wasin a seedy area on the Northside of Dublin, and as Sophie locked her brand new E350 Mercedes she said a silent prayer it would remain unscathed. The street was lined with what looked to be abandoned warehouses and it was clear where the party was as only one of them had any kind of lighting. Making her way toward it, the throbbing beat of house music grew louder.

There was a line of three dozen people waiting to get in, and they grumbled when she went directly to the door and smiled at the large man blocking the entrance.

“Good evening to you, Mrs. McManus,” the doorman said, ushering her inside.

She followed the instructions Gavin had given her on the phone and wound her way to the back. The club was packed full of twenty-something-aged kids, all grinding mindlessly to the DJ’s mix.

The makeshift VIP section consisted of several tables pushed together in front of an abbreviated bar. Gavin was lounging there with a group of men and women, none of whom Sophie recognized. But they all greeted her familiarly and with great fondness.

Gavin made introductions hastily before pulling her onto his lap.

“Do you all want another round?” Gavin asked.

“Brilliant suggestion,” a man named Jacob said with a pronounced Scottish accent. He was rail-thin, pale, and had shoulder-length dreadlocks. Sophie assumed he held some sort of leadership position within the group as he was the keeper of the bag of cocaine, pulling it out from his inside jacket pocket.

Sophie whispered to Gavin, “This is making me really uncomfortable.”

“Sit next to me here, then,” he said, deliberately misinterpreting her.

She slid off his lap and watched as Jacob carefully, almost lovingly, tapped out a good portion of the white powder. The excitement this rendered among those at their table was horrifying. Watching Gavin participate in this made her stomach queasy. They took turns snorting lines until everyone had had their share, whereupon they all stared at Sophie.

“Go on,” Gavin said. “It’s good stuff. Better than in Los Angeles even.”

“No, thanks,” she said, shaking her head.

Gavin wiped up a few grains of the coke with his index finger and then rubbed it into his gums greedily. “There’s nothing to be afraid of, Sophie,” he said.

“Yeah, just have one go,” a woman with long jet-black hair told her.

“No fun being the only one sober,” another man chimed in with a grin.

These people seemed, in appearance, normal enough. But their complete absorption in cocaine was obvious. Though she was inexperienced with this, Sophie knew enough to understand that they weren’t casual partiers. There was something desperate about their urging and she realized that Gavin couldn’t have found a worse group of new friends. She saw quite clearly that the only reason to befriend addicts was to become one of them.

“Here, love,” Jacob said, “I’ll set up a line just for you. Just a wee one is all it is.”

Sophie looked at the thin line of cocaine that was now in front of her and tried to ignore the voices urging her on. The pressure to join in was palpable, though she was aware that Gavin wasn’t saying anything else. It occurred to her how easy it would be to choose the route of escape, to forget, however temporarily, all her obligations and real-world ties. But it was only attractive for a split second because she knew it was a hollow choice—the real world was always waiting. And there wasn’t anything so awful about it, anyway.

---