‘I know you,’ Mia presses. ‘You don’t want to get hurt. You don’t want to believe you deserve a nice healthy relationship, with someone nice and healthy – like Mark.’
‘How do you know he’s nice and healthy? Maybe he’s got a dark past. Maybe he’s into weird shit or is a secret drug-dealer.’
‘Is he?’
‘Well, not as far as I know, but you can never be sure, can you?’
‘You’re deflecting.’
‘And you’re overreacting.’
Mia gives her a long look – long enough to make Lissa wonder if maybe her cousin is right. Maybe she is self-sabotaging.
She shakes her head, pushing her hair back. ‘Look, I’m not in the best place right now to start something up, okay?’ Hasn’t been in the right place for quite some time – if ever, arguably.
Mia’s expression softens. ‘And I wouldn’t want to push you into something. But Bissa, I do want you to be happy.’ The childhood nickname squeezes Lissa’s heart. Chloe used to call her Bissa. Her mum, too, used to sing it, rhyming, playful. Mia is the only one who uses it now. ‘Sometimes I feel like you shoot down the chances that are out there, the things that mightmakeyou happy. And you never know – what if Mark is one of those things? Because he seemsnice.’
She reaches out, lays a hand on Lissa’s arm and squeezes. ‘Okay. Intervention over.’ She orders the drinks from the barman, then gets out her phone. Lissa doesn’t miss the small smile on Mia’s lips when she opens a message.
‘Who is it?’
‘Oh.’ Mia looks up. ‘Just Lottie.’
‘The American girl?’
‘Yep.’
‘Still sending each other GIFs then?’
‘Yep. It’s fun.’ She shoves her phone back in her pocket. ‘Come on. We’ll miss the next round.’
Darcy looks over as they head back to the table. Doesshethink what Mia thinks – that Lissa is self-sabotaging?
‘Everything okay?’ Mark asks as she takes her seat next to him.
She works up a smile. ‘Everything’s great.’ Ash is talking to Darcy now, Darcy laughing at something he’s said. Lissa turns very deliberately to Mark. ‘So, what did you get up to this weekend?’ It’s a lame, boring question, but in that moment, she doesn’t have anything better. It doesn’t matter anyway, because beanie-man returns to his podium, and the quiz starts up once again.
The window behind their table is open a crack, cool night air creeping in to combat the crackling heat from the fire. Lissa can smell smoke through that window, she’s sure of it. Canseesmoke swirling around them, weaving its way through a chandelier while jazz music plays in the background. Only, no, there is no chandelier. There is no jazz music, just the sound of beanie-man’s voice. Her subconscious, playing tricks on her again.
‘Third place,’ Darcy announces, loud enough to make Lissa jump, and glances around the table. ‘Anyone keen for one more?’
Ash pushes his glass away. ‘Not me. I’m beat.’
Lissa takes a steadying breath.
‘You seeing Niamh this evening?’ Mark asks, a note of playfulness in his voice. Enough playfulness to make Lissa – and Darcy, from the way her eyes sharpen – wonder who this Niamh is exactly.
‘Nah,’ Ash says. ‘Just going home to bed.’
‘I have to go too,’ Mia says. ‘But this has been fun, thanks for inviting me.’
‘Where are you headed?’ Darcy asks, glancing briefly at Mark and Lissa – the only ones yet to announce their plans.
‘To the station.’
‘I live that way, I’ll walk with you.’
Lissa just about manages to stop her eye-roll. Real subtle, Darcy.
