“Seems like you had a lot more than that to talk about,” Habib said, smirking, further igniting the bundle of fury in Zeke’s stomach.That’s enough now, he told himself. Clearly, the fleeting moments of compassion Noah had showed him were scrambling his brain, rewiring it in idiotic directions.
They headed over to the van. Zeke thought Noah would climb into the front with Brian, but he slipped into the back with him.
“We’ll have to share this seat belt. We’re one seat short,” Noah said.
Don’t look too pleased,Zeke warned himself.
Brian got the all-clear from the gate guards and, as the metal shutters rose slowly, a jolt of excitement hit Zeke. He was finally leaving the barracks after eight weeks locked inside. He was on his way to see Zaya!
The forty-five minute journey was torture. At every right-turn, Zeke’s body pushed into Noah’s, squashing him against the side. Even through clothes, his skin tingled with every contact.
Brian dropped them straight outside of the nightclub that Luo and Splat had chosen. One of the few remaining bars in London’s east-side, Club Enigma had been described by Aoife as ‘the perfect mix between scatty and swanky’, whatever that meant. Zeke could count on two hands the amount of times he’d been to any nightclub, ever.
Frankie claimed his arm in hers as they marched towards the bar. He bit his lip. How was he going to slip away from them to meet Zaya shortly?
When they joined the short queue of loud, cheerful party goers, Luo instantly struck up conversation with the people in front of them, who let them queue jump when they heard they were military. Luo promised to find the two girls inside and gave Zeke a conspiratorial wink. Luo laughed at his eye-roll.
Luo’s influence only went so far, however, as his attempt at the counter to blag free entry for them all failed. After such a long time, it felt strange to pay for something as he scanned his wristband.
When he hesitated at the entrance, alarmed at the awfully loud music pumping through the door, Frankie dragged him through the threshold into the club. A large dancefloor, neon lights blazing, took up most of the space. A DJ sat on a circular podium in the middle, headphones on, swaying to the trance-like music. Around the edge, numerous booths lined the walls, fashioned out of repurposed train carriages. His shoes clung to the sticky carpet as they walked over to a free booth, which the ten of them squeezed into.
“They’re serving watered-down white wine, or home-brew beer,” Luo reported.
“What? That’s it? There were way more choices than that last time,” said Meredith.
Noah scoffed. “And I bet it’s all extortionately expensive.”
“So, eight beers it is then?” Splat said, jumping up and Savannah followed to help him with the drinks.
Zeke watched the bartender pull the pints, remembering the various job applications he’d filled in as soon as his conscription letter came. He’d not received a single interview request. None that came through quick enough, anyway.
When Splat and Savannah arrived back shortly after, everyone grabbed a beer, bar Habib and Savannah, who clutched iced water instead.
“I’ll say this now, as this will be the last time we’re all together before I round you all up at one-thirty,” Noah began, shooting Luo and Splat pointed glances. “We’re here tonight to celebrate Frankie and Zeke. Although it might not have been the life either of you wanted, we’re all proud of the way you’ve thrown yourself into it. We’ve only known you for a short time, but you’re already a part of the team. Our family. So… cheers,” he finished, and everyone clinked their glasses together.
Meredith threw her arm around Frankie and kissed her on the cheek. Splat punched Zeke on the arm. But Zeke stared off into the distance, not meeting anyone’s eyes. Noah’s speech was certainly true of Frankie, but of himself…? He’d acted so immature at the beginning and had done little to redeem himself since. He sipped his beer miserably, grimacing at the taste.
“And here’s to Sam,” Meredith said. “Although snatched away from us far too soon, forever in our hearts.”
“To Sam!” they all cheered, including Zeke, who felt peculiar about toasting to someone he’d never met. In a month’s time, they’d likely be raising drinks to his dead body. What would they say? Average at best?
Within minutes, most of Squad E abandoned their drinks for the dance floor. Luo and Splat headed straight for the two girls they’d met in the queue. When Habib downed his drink and said his goodbyes to head off to see his wife and child, he gave Zeke a sharp nod, which he ignored.
Before long, only Zeke and Noah remained on opposite sides of the booth. Zeke considered following Frankie and the girls, but the feral enthusiasm with which they were dancing put him off. Savannah ran at Aoife, who caught her and lifted her over her head, causing the crowd to go wild, cheering and applauding the pair until they bowed.
Meredith, who’d blown out her hair to create a lion’s mane of curls under her golden mandala bandana, kept sneaking looks at Splat chatting up his conquest. Zeke replayed the conversation he’d overheard on his first day, when Habib said Noah had forbid them to get together. What was the story there?
Noah interrupted his daydreaming by shouting over the music, “Not much of a dancer, either, huh?”
“Definitely not.”
“What did you do for fun then, before we whisked you away?”
“I worked pretty long hours at the lab. Then we would head to the pier after work and chill for a bit. Sometimes I would stay over at Zaya’s.”
“I saw some books in your bag,” said Noah. “I mean, when we checked you in.” He shuffled awkwardly, staring at his drink. “I thought they looked cool. I’ve read nothing in years.”
“I’ve only read a few pages since I got here. I’ve been too tired.”
