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‘Oh my God, I’m SO sorry,’ said the man, clearly looking for a way to make this situation better without actually touching her, and coming up with nothing. ‘I really didn’t see you there.’
‘I was fixing my shoe,’ Hannah said pointlessly, cold lager now dripping from her hair and running down her cheeks into her mouth. ‘I’ll just go to the loo.’ She rushed off, arms still clamped over her boobs and droplets of beer now spinning off in all directions.
‘Emergency,’ she squeaked, pushing past the queue of women outside the toilets and heading straight for the sinks.
‘Holy shit, what happened to you?’ said a blonde in a tiny black skirt and a hot pink boob tube, eight inches of mahogany-tanned abs on display in between. She popped her lipstick back in her bag and handed Hannah a stack of paper towels.
‘Some guy just tipped his beer on me,’ said Hannah, dabbing at her face as her hair dripped into the sink. ‘It was an accident, but I’m soaked.’
‘Shitting fuck,’ said the woman, taking in Hannah’s transparent top and extremely visible nipples. ‘Do you want my emergency T-shirt?’ She rummaged in her handbag and pulled out a drawstring bag, like the kind of thing Hannah used to put her swimming stuff in for school.
‘Why do you have an emergency T-shirt?’ asked Hannah with a confused smile, as the woman handed her a cropped white top with a sequinned rainbow on it.
‘If I score later, it means I don’t have to do the walk of shame tomorrow dressed like this. I’ve got a floaty skirt too, and some flip-flops. Do you need either of them?’
‘No, this is perfect,’ said Hannah, turning back to face the sink and quickly whipping off her wet top, using the remaining dry section to towel off her dripping chest. She pulled the T-shirt over her head, figuring that everyone in this toilet had already seen her nipples and now probably wasn’t the time to be shy about it. ‘How can I get it back to you?’
‘Don’t worry about it,’ said the woman, wafting her away. ‘We girls gotta help each other out, right? Just carry an emergency T-shirt from now on; pass on the love.’
‘I will, thank you SO much,’ said Hannah, giving her a quick hug and hurrying back to the bar. The smell of beer in her hair was making her feel sick, so she bypassed the queue for drinks and headed straight outside, plonking herself down on a bench and pulling off her stupid shoes. The feeling of cool air and unrestricted freedom on her crushed feet felt blissful.
‘Oh, thank God, there you are,’ said a voice. The man with the beer was back, this time holding two bar towels and a Bulldog Gin promotional T-shirt, still in its plastic bag. ‘I begged these from the bar staff, thought they might help.’
‘I’m fine,’ said Hannah. ‘A woman in the loos helped me out.’
The man sighed heavily and dropped the towels and T-shirt on the bench. ‘I’m really sorry. Can I sit down for a minute?’
Hannah nodded, looking at him properly for the first time as he plonked himself down next to her. Maybe a few years younger than her, but insanely good-looking. Tall, dark hair, wearing a turquoise polo shirt with jeans and black canvas skate shoes, the sleeves of the polo stretched around his tanned, muscular arms. He looked vaguely familiar, but right now she couldn’t place him.
‘Are you going to stab me with those?’ he asked, gesturing to the heels she was holding by their ridiculous, skin-rubbing straps.
Hannah couldn’t help but laugh, which prompted his features to soften into a smile. He wasn’t just handsome, he was gorgeous, and for a second she felt like her lungs had stopped working.
‘No,’ she said, pulling herself together. ‘They’re new, and they’re agony. I’d rather go barefoot.’
The man smiled and shook his head. ‘Women have a rough deal. I just switch out of one pair of trainers into another.’
‘I’m definitely in trainers from tomorrow. I don’t care if it’s a night out.’
‘At least I didn’t wreck your skirt.’ Hannah looked down, hyper-aware that this guy was totally checking her out. Flirting was wildly out of her comfort zone, but the feeling of being noticed was new and not entirely unpleasant.
‘It has pockets.’ She glanced at him, expecting him to look thoroughly bored by this lame revelation. But his eyes never left hers, and the small smile on his lips made her wonder whether he was a bit dazzled, or just a bit drunk.
‘I’m Rob,’ he said, holding out his hand. ‘Sorry for dumping my beer on you.’
‘Hannah,’ she replied, feeling herself blush as his warm, strong hand enclosed hers. She was suddenly aware of how close he was, and how great he looked, and how she had ratty, beer-soaked hair and a very tight rainbow T-shirt that didn’t even cover her midriff. ‘Sorry for knocking you sideways.’
He blinked twice, a startled expression on his face that Hannah couldn’t quite read. Then he shook his head slightly, as if his attention had drifted for a moment, and smiled. ‘Are you here on your own?’ It sounded like an invitation, a precursor to ‘Can I have your number?’ and Hannah wondered for a reckless second if she would give it to him.Where have I seen him before?
‘No, my girlfriends are inside,’ she said. ‘You?’
‘I left mine in another bar,’ said Rob. ‘They’re work colleagues rather than mates, and sometimes they do my head in.’
‘Oh wow,’ said Hannah. ‘So do you—?’
‘She’s HERE,’ said Trish’s voice, calling to the others as she wobbled in Hannah’s direction in vertiginous heels. ‘Come on, we’re going. Some guy is hitting on Gay and he’s a total creep. Jess is getting us a taxi.’ She glanced at Rob appreciatively, her slightly crossed eyes widening. ‘Oh HELLO. I’m Trish, who are you?’
‘We’re going,’ said Hannah quickly, worried that Trish might keel over and take Rob out for the second time this evening.
