Greta shrugs. “I’m guessing lots of people who drink actually want to feel the effects…”
“But say in a work situation—drinks with clients. I’m always trying to pace myself, not make an eejit of myself.” A smile.God, that smile. I loved that smile. “Maybe I’ll take one of these the next time.”
“I mean, you could just not drink,” Greta says dryly. “That would have an even more sobering effect.”
Jon is still reading the naltrexone bottle. “I could even drive home after…”
I frown a warning. Greta’s lingering limp is the result of a car accident and, although nobody was drunk, joking about drunk driving is insensitive. Plus, Jon’s not without blame for what happened that night.
Leesa shakes her head in admonishment. “Jon.”
He grins. “I’m kidding.” He fills Greta’s glass. “Still, be handy, wouldn’t they, for client drinks.”
I stare down at the table.Client drinks. The charge from the Marker Hotel. My eyes bloom again and I blink back tears.
Oblivious, Jon pours a glass for me, and one for Leesa.
He still has Greta’s tablets in his hand. “Could I try just one?” He does a wide-eyed puppy look that pretty much everyone except Greta finds cute. I wonder if he’s like this with his…this person, thisgirlfriend, and the thought cuts like a knife.
Greta gives him a withering look. “Do you have Long Covid?”
“Nope.” Still grinning, he puts the naltrexone back on the table. His phone beeps. “Takeaway en route. Fifteen minutes.”
I push back my chair. “I’ll let the girls know.” I need a breather.
• • •
In the living room, Aoife and Maeve are huddled over Maeve’s phone, and spring apart when I appear in the doorway. Aoife glances furtively at me then flicks her gaze away. Maeve avoids eye contact entirely.
“Everything OK, girls?”
Silence.
“OK, spill, what’s going on?” This comes out in my teacher voice, instead of my nice Aunt Susan voice.
Still nothing. Maeve starts to slide her phone under a cushion. I hold out my hand for it. Maeve’s eyes widen in horror. This is not the Susan she’s used to.
“Let me see.” Again in teacher mode.
With a small sigh Maeve hands it over, and I find myself looking at Snapchat, open in a group called “Did You Hear.” The screen is full of comments from different users. I scroll through, confused at first:
hahahahahha, like ariana is supposed to be her friend
I can’t wait to see what she says when Ariana says it to her
Is it definitely him? do we know its zach? omg shes such a bitch
Has anyone seen her? bet shes hiding. I would RUN
It hits me now. Nika.
Aoife looks at me. “It’s about the message.”
Maeve bites her lip.
“About Nika bunking off with her boyfriend?” I ask, though it’s hardly anything else.
Aoife nods. “Except he’s not her boyfriend.”
