Page 19 of All Our Missing Pieces

‘You look amazing,’ I told Beatrice. ‘I love your dress.’

‘Where are we going, anyway?’ she asked without returning the compliment. ‘You said “the pub”, but which one? I totally don’t understand pubs.’

I realised I had no idea.

But Luke said, ‘The Crooked Billet does happy hour on Fridays, and there’s a DJ later.’

‘Sold,’ Beatrice and I said together.

Walking past the square and towards the main road, I felt a sense of heady excitement. The sun was still out, the air warm against my bare arms. It was the weekend and I was out with two people who might be going to become my friends. Or more than friends? I caught the scent of Luke’s skin again and felt his arm brush against mine as we walked, and I shivered in spite of the warmth of the evening. My excitement increased when the pub came into view, people spilling out on the pavement around wooden tables, drinks and cigarettes in their hands.

‘You two grab a spot out here,’ Luke suggested. ‘I’ll get the first round in.’

Beatrice and I found a place at one of the picnic tables, facing away from the group who were already there. A few minutes later, Luke reappeared, carefully balancing three plastic cups of Pimm’s – ice, cucumber and strawberries bobbing on their surfaces. He handed one to Beatrice and one to me, then sat next to me on the narrow bench.

I felt the long, warm strength of his thigh pressing against mine and something inside my mind – or maybe my body – went, Oh.

Then I glanced at Beatrice on my other side. Beatrice, in her sexy dress, her long, corn-coloured hair flowing loose down her back. Beatrice, who’d been the one to invite Luke to join us in the first place.

I didn’t want to tread on anyone’s toes – especially not hers.

But she wasn’t looking at Luke, or at me. She was gazing around her, taking in the throng of people.

‘Look at those two,’ she said. ‘Reckon he’s her boyfriend or her dad?’

I could tell right away who she meant. The man was at least forty, paunchy and balding, the girl about our age. As we watched, he put his hand on her bum and steered her inside.

‘Eeuw,’ I said. ‘Her boss, I reckon. Having a crack at her after work on a Friday.’

‘I mean, at least then there might be something in it for her.’ Beatrice fished a piece of cucumber out of her drink and nibbled it.

‘Oh my God,’ I laughed. ‘You wouldn’t, would you? With Peter, your boss?’

‘Peter? Hell no. Then if Frances found out and ditched him, I’d be stuck with those kids.’

I laughed, but her words unsettled me for some reason I couldn’t quite grasp.

Then Luke said, ‘See those guys over there? I think they’re in a band. What’re they called? The Mudlarks? Sort of indie rock. They played at Glastonbury.’

‘Now in that case, I totally would,’ Beatrice said. ‘Having a rock star boyfriend would be great.’

‘Apart from him sleeping with millions of fans every time your back was turned,’ I pointed out.

The direction the conversation had taken made me feel weird, somehow. Like I wasn’t ready to talk about sex with Luke sitting right there next to me. Or maybe like I did want to, to see how he’d react, what his view was on rock stars cheating on their girlfriends – or anyone cheating on anyone, really.

Looking at him now, away from the house, I appreciated for the first time how handsome he was – not just my type, taller than me and lean, with broad shoulders and elegant, long-fingered hands, but anyone’s type.

My drink was empty, so I offered to get another round. The pub was busy inside, a press of people around the bar and others crowded around small tables holding shouted conversations over the blare of football on multiple television screens. I queued for our drinks and paid for them, then began to make my way carefully outside.

As I reached the door I saw something that made me stop, then hurry out, pushing the door open so violently I slopped Pimm’s over my wrists.

Beatrice and Luke were still sitting on the bench, the me-sized space still between them.

‘Shit,’ I said. ‘You won’t believe this.’

‘What?’ Luke asked.

‘My old flatmate and her boyfriend are here. Remember, Beatrice, I was telling you about them yest— this morning?’