‘Still got one thanks.’ Automatically, I reach for the stem of my glass. ‘Oh, Christ, cold!’ I jump from my seat as Matt’s hip collides with my arm, pushed by some force from behind. Ice cold liquid soaks my blouse, chilling my skin, the glass bouncing out of my hand to shatter against the floor.
‘Hey, buddy, go easy there!’ Matt pushes the offender, a slumped over drunk, upright.
‘Asif, so sorry,’ he slurs, glassy eyes stuck to my wet chest. Pushed upright, he beams a toothy smile before wobbling on his merry way.
‘That little—ah, would you look at the state of her shirt!’
I’d rather they didn’t, as transparent as it is. She begins to blot the silk with a napkin.
‘Here, babe, dry yourself off.’
She hands me another as I flap the fabric from my cold skin. Sagging back into the chair, my spirits now matching my blouse.
‘I’m gonna head home.’
‘No, don’t let the tosser spoil a good evening!’ Niamh looks genuinely disappointed, if not a little panicked. But I don’t have the energy to have to spend an evening playing nice with Matt while she makes a play for Rob.
‘You stay, I’m tired. Rob, you’ll make sure she gets home okay, won’t you?’
‘Sure thing,’ he confirms.
‘Yeah, I think I’ll call it a night, too,’ Matt says. ‘We could share a cab.’
So should have seen that one coming.
‘If you’re sure? I don’t like the idea of Kate going home alone.’ Niamh glances at me, eyes wide with innocence. ‘You’re both going the same way.’
But are we though, really?
