Page 25 of The One Plus One
He ran a hand through his hair. ‘Ah. The whole door thing. I was just…having a tricky conversation.’
‘“Not now, thanks” tends to work just as well, I find.’
‘Right. Point taken.’ He leant on the bar. Jess tried to keep a straight face when his elbow slipped off. ‘So that’s an apology, is it?’
He peered at her blearily. ‘Sorry. I’m really, really, really sorry. Very sorry, O Bar Lady. Now can I have a drink?’
‘No. It’s gone eleven.’
‘Only because you kept me talking.’
‘I haven’t got time to sit here while you nurse another pint.’
‘Give me a shot, then. Come on. I need another drink. Give me a shot of vodka. Here. You can keep the change.’ He slammed a twenty on the bar. The impact reverberated through the rest of him so that his head whiplashed back slightly. ‘Just one. Actually, make it a double. It’ll take me all of two seconds to down it. One second.’
‘No. You’ve had enough.’
Des’s voice broke in from the kitchen. ‘Oh, for Christ’s sake, Jess, give him a drink.’
Jess stood for a moment, her jaw rigid, then turned and emptied the optic twice into a glass. She rang up the money, then silently placed his change on the bar. He downed the vodka, swallowing audibly as he put the glass down, and turned away, staggering slightly.
‘You forgot your change.’
‘Keep it.’
‘I don’t want it.’
‘Put it in your charity box, then.’
She gathered it up and shoved it at his hand. ‘Des’s charity of choice is the Des Harris Holiday In Memphis Fund,’ she said. ‘Really. Just take your money.’
He blinked at her, and took two unbalanced steps to the side as she opened the door for him. It was then she noticed what he had just pulled from his pocket. And the super-shiny Audi in the car park.
‘You’re not driving home.’
‘I’m fine.’ He batted away her protest. ‘There aren’t any cars around here at night anyway.’
‘You can’t drive.’
‘We’re in the middle of nowhere, in case you haven’t noticed.’ He gestured at the sky. ‘I’m miles away from everything, and stuck here, in the middle of fucking nowhere.’ He leant forward, and his breath was a blast of alcohol. ‘I’ll go very, very, slowly.’
He was so drunk that peeling the keys from his hand was embarrassingly easy. ‘No,’ she said, turning back tothe bar. ‘I won’t be responsible for you having an accident as well as everything else. Go back inside, and I’ll call you a taxi.’
‘Give me my keys.’
‘No.’
‘You’re stealing my keys.’
‘I’m saving you from a driving ban.’ She held them aloft, and turned back towards the bar.
‘Oh, for Chrissakes,’ he said. He made it sound like she was the last in a long line of irritations. It made her want to kick him.
‘I’ll get you a taxi. Just – just sit there. I’ll give you your keys back once you’re safely inside it.’
She texted Liam from the phone in the back hall.
Does this mean I get lucky?he replied.
