Page 50 of Our Stop

He handed over his credit card to pay, having realized at Wetherspoons the night before that he’d left his debit card at the bar when he was supposed to meet Nadia. He couldn’t face going back for it, so he’d cancelled it and ordered another to be delivered in the post. In the meantime, the £115 total for six drinks – six drinks! Over one hundred pounds! – went on his Amex. Daniel delivered the tray to the table and thought about what Romeo would say about the cost. They should have all gone to Wetherspoons.

A few hours into the evening, Daniel suddenly stepped out of himself to acknowledge that actually, it was almost as if he was having fun. The woman who’d hit on him at the party last time had made friends with a guy from another group, and so that guy’s friends had joined their table and they’d held court, telling stories and laughing with the other girls and him. It took the pressure off the ‘performance’ – he just got to chat and not worry about flirting or being flirted with. Daniel ended up talking about Arsenal with one of the guys, passionately defending their starting line-up in the Premier League final match – still a sore point for many a fan. The guy had said some clever and funny things, and then, out of nowhere, said, ‘I’m going to the bathroom, mate. Do you want any?’ He put a finger against one nostril and snorted up through the other. Daniel looked around the group. Ah. They were all high.

‘Nah mate, I’m all right for a minute,’ Daniel said, hating knowing he was the only one not disappearing to the loo for cocaine. It wouldn’t be long before everyone got shouty and self-obsessed and sweaty and horny too. Lorenzo and Becky had made out occasionally all night, but Daniel noticed now that the spaces between their kisses had lessened and lessened, and just like that Daniel stopped having fun and made his excuses to leave.

‘Daniel!’ he heard from behind, as he checked his phone to see that his Uber was only two minutes away. ‘Daniel!’

It was Lorenzo, with a very out-of-it Becky on his arm. She staggered and swayed, and had the fixed, airless smile of a woman who had no idea where she was. She didn’t look high – she looked very, very drunk.

‘Give us a ride, buddy,’ Lorenzo said cheerily.

‘Two minutes,’ said Daniel, glancing at his phone. ‘Oh. One.’

Becky could hardly support her own head. She mumbled something and pushed her hair from her face. ‘You okay, Becky?’ Daniel asked.

‘Nkdhrhf-drunk, isall,’ she said, which Daniel took to mean ‘I’m drunk’.

‘Can I get you something? Where are the others?’

Lorenzo looked annoyed at the question. ‘Chill out. She’s with me. She’s okay.’

Daniel stepped towards him and lowered his voice. ‘I don’t think she really knows where she is, mate,’ he said. ‘You shouldn’t take her home like this. Let’s get her back to the girls.’

Lorenzo looked up, meeting Daniel’s eye, puffing out his chest. ‘Mind your own business, mate.’ He said ‘mate’ as if it meant exactly the opposite, aggressive and mean.

‘No, dude, I didn’t mean … just. Look at her! She should go home.’

A black Prius pulled up alongside the kerb.

‘Daniel?’ the driver said through the open window.

‘All right mate, just a minute,’ Daniel said. Turning back to Lorenzo he continued, ‘Come on, she’s in no fit state. Let me cancel the cab and we’ll find the others and they can make sure she gets back okay. I think she lives with one of them.’

‘Mate,’ Lorenzo said, almost in air quotes. ‘She’s fine. The cab’s here now. Let’s just go.’

Daniel hesitated. He thought he was going home alone and now Lorenzo was there with a woman who should not, on any terms, be going anywhere except her own bed. But what was the worst that could happen? Surely Lorenzo would pass out as soon as she did anyway. And it’s not like he thought Lorenzo would do anything stupid, but … well … Daniel resented having to bear witness to it. He stepped aside and let his friend open the car door. This wasn’t his call to make, he reasoned.

‘She’s not gonna be sick, is she?’ the cabbie asked, and Lorenzo told him she was fine.

Daniel climbed into the front seat.

‘Evening,’ he said to the driver.

‘Evening.’

The four of them drove in silence, with Daniel vaguely aware of slurpy kissing noises coming from the back seat. He didn’t want to turn around, or worse, get caught staring in the rear-view mirror or the dark glass of the car, but he was increasingly uncomfortable. It didn’t seem right to him that Becky was so drunk she could barely speak, and Lorenzo was obviously taking her home to have sex with her. Did she even know where she was? He regretted having let Lorenzo get her in the car. If that was his sister, or one of his girl mates …

‘Hey, Becky – you okay back there?’ he said eventually, to which he got a mumbled reply that, in his book, meant she couldn’t be far away from either passing out, or throwing up. He stole a glance in the rear-view. Lorenzo was looking out of the far window, sleepily, but his hand was far up Becky’s leg, his long fingers stretched out so that his thumb reached into the crevice between her legs.

They pulled up at home, and the two men had to practically give Becky a fireman’s lift up the stairs to their flat. It was weird. It felt like being a caveman who had clubbed a cavewoman over the head and dragged her back.

‘She can have my room,’ Daniel said, as they opened the front door. ‘And I’ll take the sofa.’

Lorenzo laughed. ‘She’ll come in with me, stupid.’ Becky slumped into the armchair Daniel normally reserved for watching TV.

Daniel looked at her. ‘Listen, Lorenzo.’

‘Don’t “listen, Lorenzo” me.’

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