Page 30 of Knowing You
‘They are probably more frightened of us than the other way around,’ says Flint.
‘That’s what Uncle Kevin used to say. Alice hates them. She screamed louder than a fire engine the other day when she saw one run out of the school games cupboard.’
‘Really?’ Flint leaned forwards as I release the spider and it scurries away. ‘Then you know what to do. It’s Halloween soon.’
‘You mean catch one from the woods and—’
His head nods up and down really quickly. ‘You could put it in her school bag or,’ His eyes gleam, ‘down her back.’
‘I can’t.’
‘You can. It’s only fair after all the things she’s said about your Uncle Kevin.’
I think about Flint’s idea when I’m tucked up in bed that night. He’s the best ever friend. He’s looking out for me. And he’s right. It’s time I stood up to Alice.
Chapter 13
I sit inside The Olive Bar. It’s eight o’clock and the place is already half-full. Despite my new clothes, on the inside I feel like a can of cheap supermarket lager set amongst glossy liquor bottles. I perch on a stool by the bar and pull down the hem of my dress. Coloured lights swirl across the room’s walls. If Flossie was here, she’d go for the kill, convinced they were some kind of rainbow mice climbing the walls. A disco beat thumps loudly in the background and a circle of friends by the window sing along whilst taking selfies. I tap my foot in time to the music and study the drinks menu. Do people even use the worddiscoanymore? Uncle Kevin taught me my first dance steps. I’d stand on his feet and we’d hold hands and move at the same time until I found the confidence to jump off and try some of my own moves.
The barman ignores a group of women waiting at the other end of the bar, beams at me and asks what I’d like – or rather shouts. The latest tune must be playing above the legal number of allowed decibels. Yet I don’t mind. Somehow it makes me feel less conspicuous and as if I belong here.
‘What do you recommend?’ I ask in a raised voice.
‘What’s your name?’
‘Violet, I mean… Vi.’
He thinks for a moment. ‘I’ve got it. I’ll make you a Vi-tai. How about that?’
I’ve had a Mai Tai before and like rum. He blends ingredients in a silver shaker and ice clatters as he moves it up and down, as if he’s the lead performer in a percussion band. He seems oblivious to the frowns of the other women waiting.
I sway side to side along to the song until my drink arrives in a tumbler with a small spring of mint. Kath’s so excited to blog about conservation and wouldn’t approve of the plastic straw.
‘Thank you. What a lovely colour.’
The barman winks.
‘I’ll have one of those too,’ says a voice next to me.
The barman gives the thumbs up and calls a colleague over to deal with the other customers. I turn around to face the most penetrating eyes and a chest full of leopard print.
‘That shirt is actually for real?’ I ask before I can stop myself. ‘I mean…’
Casey bursts out laughing. It’s a delicious sound. Full, warm, with notes of mischief like a spiced gingerbread latte. Not like Lenny’s, which is always a bit too loud, as if he’s trying to convince other people that he’s having the best time. Casey’s head jerks towards a table near the window, with two seats and his jet black fringe flops down. His long fingers smooth it back. I take my drink over. The music is a little quieter here. He waits for his, having insisted on paying. I try to concentrate on the Saturday crowds outside surrounding a street juggler, but my eyes are drawn back to Casey. He’s just as striking as in the photo I saw. Nora would say he belonged on one of her Mills & Boon covers. A loud voice from behind catches my attention. A man is on his phone and telling someone to hurry up and get here.
Casey strides over, sits down and his legs fall apart as if that’s his default position. Our glasses clink together. The man talking into his mobile walks past, squeezing in between tables, and accidentally knocks Casey’s shoulder. As an apology, he offers a tattooed high-five. Casey presses palms with him and the man moves on.
‘Lovely to meet you, Vi. I’m thrilled that you likedAlien Hearts.’
‘I couldn’t put it down,’ I say. We talk about the plot. Casey tells me how long it took to write. And how it’s really the fifth book he’s written. The others are firmly under his bed.
His legs move further apart. ‘So, I’m assuming you want to meet because Thoth is interested in acquiring me.’
My eyes widen and his rich laugh attracts the attention of a group of women behind.
‘I don’t see any point in playing games – although I’m not sure my agent would approve of this clandestine meeting.’
‘I’m just a fan. That’s all,’ I say and suck up refreshing fruit juice and rum.
