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‘You scrub up well yourself,’ I tell Joe, noticing his shirt unbuttoned just the right amount, sleeves pulled up past forearms.
‘It’s a bit different to Maggie’s pub in here,’ Joe says as he looks nervously around the glam bar.
‘I hope you weren’t expecting to get your crossword finished.’
Joe shoots me a look and sighs. ‘Sometimes, Sophie, I think you see me as a boring old scholar. A man who likes nothing better than settling in front of a roaring fire and pondering life with a whiskey in his hand.’
‘You do like those things though, right?’
‘That’s not the point,’ he says and folds his arms.
‘Are you grumpy with me?’ I ask, poking his left bicep. ‘Oh my god, you are grumpy with me! Come on, we both know you’re way more fun than me, you’re always thinking of cool things to do with Sidney.’
He looks at me with one arched eyebrow. ‘That’s better.’
‘Now how about you put these to good use,’ I say, realising that my hand is still on his upper arm and giving it a squeeze.
Joe looks momentarily confused.
‘We need to muscle our way to the bar!’
‘I thought you weren’t drinking at the moment?’
‘I’m not but that doesn’t have to stop you,’ I add.
‘Come on then.’ He takes my hand as he leads me through the packed venue. We find Tally, resplendent in an all-in-one sequinned catsuit, chatting into her phone at the bar. It becomes apparent that she’s live-streaming the launch party.
‘Hey, guys,’ she’s saying. ‘I’m so excited to be here at Sassy Sylvia’s. Meet Nitin, our fabulous bartender for the evening. He’s making me a spicy margarita. Oh and here are some parent friends of mine, Joe and Sophie.’ She trains her phone on us and we each do an awkward wave. ‘And look, here’s the rest of the crew!’
Sure enough Celeste, Olivia, Mel and Frankie have managed to find us. Frankie’s fretting because she has baby sick on her ‘one good top’ and I tell her truthfully that she looks lovely. Celeste looks very much like she just stumbled out of Westminster, Olivia’s in a slinky silk dress and Mel is still wearing her work Crocs. We get our orders in before Tally suggests we head outside for ‘fresh content’.
‘I could actually do with some fresh air,’ Joe says, eyeing up the cherry decorating his drink in suspicion.
‘So, how was the theatre trip?’ asks Mel.
‘Not one child was sick on me,’ Joe says proudly. Tactfully he doesn’t add that Celeste nearly made them all miss the bus back to school because she was busy schmoozing with the theatre director, or that she referred to herself as ‘a patron of the arts’ the whole time. It was hilarious when he told me though, it made me both cringe and laugh. He’s generous like that – he doesn’t make people look stupid, even if he thinks they are.
Celeste finds us a table and plants herself next to Joe. ‘The children were a joy,’ she tells us. ‘Oscar is such a literary fellow already, don’t you think, Joe?’
Joe takes a gulp of his drink. ‘I’d say that all the children seemed to enjoy themselves.’
‘No,’ Frankie announces loudly, standing up to make herself heard. ‘Sorry, but no. I refuse to talk about the kids tonight. We should have a ban on it. This is my first night out since baby Helen was born and I intend to let loose! So, before I need to leave for the night feed, let’s get lit!’
Frankie’s enthusiasm spreads like wildfire and it seems everyone in the group is suddenly on it. She sits back down next to Joe and nudges him.
‘Right, Joe?’
‘Right,’ he agrees, slightly startled. ‘Let’s get wavy! Or at least I think that’s what my students say?’
Celeste is asking what that actually means but everyone’s eyes have settled on Joe. He’s picked up the cherry from his empty glass and is taking a bite, oblivious to the fact that he’s now centre of attention. He holds the fruit by its stalk and pops the whole thing in his mouth. Olivia makes a sound like a purring cat. Frankie tells me I’m a ‘lucky bastard’. Somehow he manages to spit the pip out with decorum and only then does he notice that the rest of our group are staring lasciviously at him.
‘Let’s go get a round in,’ I say, placing my hand on his shoulder. Protective mode sets in, just like I pinky-promised it would.
‘Dear god yes please,’ Joe mutters under his breath, giving me a grateful look for offering him an escape route.
By the time we get back to the sophisticated outdoor area, where vines have been trained up trellising and subtly interspersed with lights, the mood has shifted to one of extreme excitement. Tally is practically fizzing.
‘Akoni Jones is here,’ she says. ‘OMG I can’t believe it.’
