I chuckled, rubbing the back of my neck. I didn’t quite know how to break it to Seamus that Declan being so easy to distract worked out in my favour. I needed to change the subject.
“Ah, I don’t suppose y’carryin’, now?” I asked, leaning in and lowering my voice.
Seamus grew suddenly serious. “Just might be. What’re y’after, like?”
I shrugged. “E?”
Seamus shook his head. “Nah, not on me. I can get ya some that’ll knock y’feckin’ socks off though, boyo.”
“Well, what ya got then?”
Seamus dug a hand into his jeans and passed me a baggie under the table. I subtly unfurled my fist.
“Snow?”
“Aye, clean stuff, like. It’s grand.”
I wasn’t a huge fan of cocaine. My recreational drugs of choice were usually those that chilled you out, got you real mellow. Coke tended to be just the opposite, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.
“Grand,” I muttered, shoving the bag into my pocket. “Drinks? On Declan, aye?”
The table erupted into laughter, and I got to my feet, stumbling as the pub seemed to spin around me. I spotted Declan’s pretty wee barmaid, and I decided to bat the hive a little.
“‘ey! Darlin’!” I called out, pleased when her attention snapped to me immediately.
“What can I do for you?” she asked, eyeing me with suspicion.
“You’ve done plenty already,” I laughed. “Keep givin’ Declan the runaround, aye? Make his tight hole pay f’our drinks all night!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but if you want to order a drink…” She trailed off, eyes flitting over my shoulder. A moment later, Declan appeared at my side.
“John-Francis isn’t botherin’ ya now?” he asked, looping his arm around my shoulders. He was tense, though he was doing a good job at pretending he wasn’t. Declan didn’t want me chatting shite to his girl, that much was clear, but I wasn’t about to be behaving myself. There was nothing I loved more than getting a rise out of Declan, and I knew he’d be giving me hell just the same if the roles had been reversed.
“Ah, you’re no fuckin’stilltryin’ to get your hole?!” I laughed.
Declan tightened his arm around my neck, muttering under his breath in Cant – the language travellers often spoke to one another, especially when trying to confuse or mislead a settled.
“She’d be eatin’ outta me hand and I’d be eatin’ more than that later, aye. Now feck off an’ let me land ‘er.”
I cast him a knowing grin and Declan headbutted me. It was playful, something we used to do as kids when one of us was playing up for the other.
I turned my attention back to the barmaid. “‘ey, where’s the jacks?”
She narrowed her eyes with confusion. “The jacks?”
“Toilets,” Declan clarified, before switching back to Cant.“I’d not be buyin’ ya any more drinks y’feckin’ langer. Y’off y’tits.”
“I’d not be thinkin’ that’s up ta yourself, now. Y’buyin’ until y’wee piece there rolls over f’ya! A deal’s a deal, y’prick!”
Declan gave me the finger with a laugh, and I stumbled into the gents. There was an older fella at the urinal, and I made a beeline for the stall, keen for a spot of privacy. I had a quick piss before closing the toilet seat to sit on and digging the baggie Seamus had given to me out of my jeans pocket.
With an expertise I should probably have been ashamed of, I poured a small amount of powder out onto the back of my hand, the flat area between my thumband forefinger. Without hesitation, I lowered my nose to it and sniffed vigorously. It burnt like fuck, but I knew it would pass and be replaced with a nice wee buzz. Still sniffing in a bid to rid myself of the irritation in my nose, I closed up the baggie and popped it back inside my jeans. There would be enough left over for a few more hits later on, depending on where the rest of the night took us.
I allowed myself a moment to compose myself, already feeling the effects of the coke beginning to set in, before getting to my feet. I swayed, stumbling into the side of the cubicle with a chuckle. I was fucking steaming. No way I was avoiding one hell of a hangover in the morning.
I didn’t recall leaving the jacks, but I soon found myself beside Declan once more, my mate still chatting up his wee beauty behind the bar.
“Oi, ya’d not be pesterin’ y’girl there?”I shouted to him, speaking in Cant.
