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‘I’m going to bed,’ she said, abruptly standing up. ‘Goodnight.’
‘Can I come?’ Hamish asked hopefully.
‘No, no you can’t.’
The next morning, as the three flatmates cleared up the aftermath of dinner, Clara said, ‘Did you notice how Kelly’s hair didn’t get flat even by the end of the evening?’
‘Yes, I noticed that!’ Audrey cried, and then had to sit down because she was too hungover for such animated exclamations.
‘Who knew someone that spectacular looking could be so normal and be doing a PhD,’ said Paul as he stacked the dishwasher. ‘Josh is such a dark horse.’
‘What do you mean?’ Audrey asked, getting up slowly to put the kettle on and make them all a coffee.
‘Well, I don’t know where he meets these women. Fit girls always love Josh. I don’t think he’s any better looking than the rest of us.’
‘Audrey clearly thinks he is,’ called Clara from the living room where she was now sprawled on the couch, apparently too hungover to help. ‘And I saw you and Miranda, Paul. You can’t complain you never get the girl.’
‘I don’t think anything about Josh,’ Audrey said, scowling in Clara’s direction.
‘Did you know Miranda’s a perfumer? She’s got the most incredible nose,’ Paul said wistfully.
‘And lips?’ shouted Clara.
‘You’d better start showering then, Paul,’ said Audrey.
‘Hang on, I get it now,’ Paul said, tapping a finger against his chin. ‘Josh was slightly mean to you because you didn’t remember his name and now he’s unavailable.’ Paul cupped his chin between thumb and forefinger, ‘That’s really strange, I’ve never known Audrey to go for guys who are unavailable and slightly mean to her. Have you, Clara?’
They both laughed, and Audrey felt her cheeks burn. The observation was so perceptive that it felt like a small, sharp skewer, piercing a chink in her armour.
‘You’re both idiots,’ she said. ‘I couldn’t be less interested in Bad Jeans Josh.’
‘You do know that as soon as you started dating someone like that, you’d lose interest,’ Clara said, finally emerging from the living room with her arms full of discarded wine bottles. ‘He’s too straight for you.’
‘I don’t want to date him, but what makes you say that? Why is he too straight?’ Audrey asked, propping a hand against her hip.
‘Because he’s a nice guy and he’d treat you right. He wouldn’t mess you about so you’d assume there must be something wrong with him,’ said Clara.
‘You’d ditch him in favour of some arty wanker who never calls you back,’ Paul said.
‘Weren’t you kissing Hamish last night?’ Clara added, as though suddenly remembering.
‘Handsy Hamish, no!’ said Paul, putting a fist into his mouth.
Audrey was never drinking again.
Clara and Paul both collapsed into fits of laughter. Once they’d composed themselves, Paul reached out to give Audrey’s shoulder an affectionate squeeze.
Usually, she would laugh along. The three of them teased each other like this constantly, and Audrey often gave as good as she got. But this morning, something about the accuracy of what they were saying, coupled with a hideous hangover and her regret over Handsy Hamish, made her have to bite down hard on the inside of her cheek to stop herself from bursting into tears.
