Page 106 of Don't You Forget About Me

‘I’m presuming the lass is alright if my brother’s jumping on her. This is a food preparation area, Luc!’

Kitty’s voice can be heard squeaking: ‘What’s going on? Is Georgina OK?’

Lucas gallantly manoeuvres himself without letting go of me, bending down and returning my cardigan, which I accept and hold draped across my front, like a beach towel. The top is going to need a good wring out and to sit on a hot radiator unless they want this to be a wet-t-shirt establishment for the afternoon.

‘All sorted; seems Georgina got a dousing from an unknown clear liquid.’

‘I’ll refrain from any off-colour jokes which aren’t occurring to me right now, you know that’s not my style.’

‘Get LOST, Devlin.’

‘Hahaha. The assailant ran off and it took Kitty too long to get round the bar to give chase. What was it about?’

‘The prime suspect is the strip-o-gram we ejected, Georgina says.’

‘I think it was revenge served cold for me hitting him.’

‘Right. Never a dull moment, eh?’ Dev says.

He withdraws and I pull my cardigan on and rebutton it, which strangely feels more intimate in front of Lucas than not wearing it. Must be something in the implications of the process of getting dressed around him. There’s only one other sort of occasion when it might take place. I think he feels it too because he looks away and blathers vaguely about the necessity of calling the police.

‘What do we say though? Someone throwing water is like reporting a toerag for a balloon in the street.’

‘I think it might’ve crossed their minds you’d think it was acid, the sadists,’ Lucas says. ‘I think it’s worth flagging. If it sends someone in uniform round to see him to remind him of the sentence for throwing worse things, it won’t be in vain.’

‘True. What a shift!’ I say, tucking sodden hair behind my ears, aware my make-up must be ‘member of Kiss’.

‘Yeah, it’s been eventful,’ Lucas says. ‘All things considered, you’re allowed to knock off now.’

‘I’d like to go home, shower, change, come back and down several large stiff drinks, please.’

Lucas gives me an appraising look. ‘For the shock?’

‘For the shock.’

‘We’ve established my shock was worse,’ Lucas says.

‘You best have a stiff drink too then.’

Lucas checks his watch. ‘See you in an hour or so.’

A session? The two of us? I’m aquiver with anticipation. I keep thinking of what Lucas said when he held me. He gave himself away.

I have hope.

36

‘Yes, madam, what’ll it be?’ Devlin says.

‘Half of Strippers Piss, please,’ I say, when I present myself back at the bar half an hour before closing, fluttery with expectation, having spent more care over my freshening up and outfit than was strictly necessary for a lock-in. I’m wearing a tight Cure t-shirt. Sometimes being subtle is overrated.

‘I’ve taken it off, that was coming through cloudy. I think the pipes need cleaning,’ Lucas calls over, and we laugh in a goonish way. It’s Devlin rolling his eyes for once. Wow, Bobby, you did me a favour. Extraordinary.

I can’t believe I only recently thought of Lucas as standoffish. Seems I had to learn the lesson of the person behind the façade, twice. He just needs to trust you.

Usually when Lucas is working, I’m working too. Parked with a glass of red wine at a table, I get to watch him for once. I have a covert ogling licence and I intend to use it.

I’d not admitted to myself until now what the sight of Lucas does to me. It was too masochistic, with someone who didn’t like me, who thought so little of me that he had erased me. Now I’m wondering if this wasn’t in fact, ideal – no history to worry about. An untainted second chance.

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