Page 105 of Don't You Forget About Me

‘Er. Why am I not wearing my top?’ I say. Thinking: this is an enterprising move, Lucas. I got something thrown in myface,didn’t I?

‘Are you alright? You feel alright?’

I blink more water out of my eyes and smile and say: ‘Yeah? Apart from being half naked and very damp and completely freaked out.’

I sniff and cough and wonder whether to cross my arms and decide styling it out and not acting embarrassed is better, while discreetly holding my stomach in. I pick up my wet t-shirt from the floor and hold it against myself.

‘Oh, God,’ Lucas stands back and slumps against the microwave. ‘God, that was … Let me get my breathing back.’

‘What’s the matter?’ I say.

‘I thought it was acid!’

‘Oh!’ I exhale and Lucas’s eyes widen.

‘You mean youdidn’tthink that?!’

‘No. Does that make me stupid?’

Suddenly everything in Lucas’s response makes sense and I feel a heady combination of immense naiveté and wild relief that it didn’t occur to me.

‘It’s a blessing, I guess. Lucky you. I’ve just had forty or so seconds of my life I never care to relive.’

‘Classic man! I’m the drowned rat here, in my bra.’

‘Hah! Oh God, sorry. I thought your skin possibly peeling away with a corrosive fluid was more important than modesty.’

Lucas reflexively glances down at my chest, and away again swiftly, and I cross my arms and then both of us want the ground to swallow us.

‘Oh I’m so relieved, Georgina, I can’t tell you. I thought we were straight to A&E …’

‘You were quick with the water. Impressive.’

‘I’ve done some health and safety on burns. I can’t believe you didn’t consider it was acid. I saw it happening in slow motion.’

Lucas shakes his head and I see that he’s been genuinely quite traumatised by it. I am touched. I’ve also been touched. I can feel his fingertips on me …

‘Why did she do that?’ I say. ‘Who’s “Bob”?’ We stare at each other utterly mystified, until the realisation clangs. Who – related to this workplace – might want to throw a noxious substance over me? ‘Hang on. Wasn’t the Thor stripper called Bob?’

‘I’m not sure …?’

‘Yeah! When he left he shouted: “Bobby does not forget!” This must be his revenge. Why throw water?’

‘Uh, I doubt it was water.’

I pull a strand of my hair round to my nose and inhale. ‘You did such a good job of hosing me down there’s not much left. So we suspect … stripper’s piss? That’s one for the craft ale names, if you run out.’

I gurgle with laughter.

‘You will honestly find the dopey lols in fuckinganything, won’t you?’ Lucas says.

Before I can respond, he traps me in a completely unexpected hug. The t-shirt falls from my hands. I surrender to it, caught tightly in the right angles of his elbows, hesitantly wrapping my own arms around his back. I can feel his heart still pounding. Lucas mumbles into my hair: ‘Of all the faces to destroy.’

What?What?

We pull back and gaze into each other’s eyes for a second, mere centimetres apart, and I think, Christ alive: are we going to kiss? In shock and stripping and fear and shared crisis, everything between us is up in the air. What’s been revealed, other than a quarter of my breasts, is that Lucas cares about me. Electricity crackles between us.

The door opens, and Devlin peers round. He takes in the embrace, and his eyes travel down to my exposed abdomen. I automatically start to pull away but Lucas’s grip tightens fractionally and I stop.

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