Page 19 of The Fallback

There was a long silence. ‘And then what?’ prompted Nadia.

‘Then nothing, literally nothing. He was so drunk. He fell asleep and I went to bed. When I woke up the next day it was as if nothing had happened. I don’t think he had any recollection of it happening, and if he did, he never mentioned it.’

‘And you never mentioned it, either?’ Nadia asked.

‘No!’ exclaimed Rosie. ‘He was my flatmate and my friend, if he wanted to pretend it had never happened then that was probably for the best.’

Nadia looked at her. ‘So you’ve never talked about it?’ she asked.

‘No!’ said Rosie again. ‘I was mortified. He was obviously drunk enough to kiss anyone and I just happened to be there. And he was more than happy to forget it or ignore it.’ She looked at Nadia imploringly. ‘I was so scared that if I mentioned it and he then remembered it that it might ruin our friendship. He would reject me and I was scared of losing him. And then over the years it never happened again, it never got mentioned; and anyway, I’ve got to know Mitch’s taste in women, and it definitely isn’t me.’

Another tear rolled down her cheek. Nadia reached up and brushed it away and hugged Rosie tight again. There was a silence.

‘Look at me,’ Nadia eventually said, releasing Rosie. ‘Nico would be so proud, I’m learning to be all touchy feely!’ Rosie laughed at the kindness of her friend and squeezed her back tightly.

THEN

‘Come on, let’s have one more drink!’

Mitch had his head in the cupboard and was rummaging around to see what alcohol they had in the flat.

‘Aha!’ he said triumphantly, emerging with a small brown bottle of something and swaying considerably as he did so. ‘Whoops.’ He staggered into the table and knocked over the chair.

Rosie laughed. ‘Mitch, don’t you think you’ve had enough?’ she said, righting the chair and plucking the bottle out of Mitch’s hands. ‘What even is this?’ she said, peering at the label.

‘No idea!’ said Mitch happily. ‘It’s left over from our flat warming.’

‘That was months ago!’ she shrieked.

‘Rosie,’ Mitch said, trying and failing to fix her with a stare. ‘It’s alcohol, it doesn’t go off.’

‘I guess,’ she said, sounding unconvinced.

Really, Rosie knew she ought to have a large glass of water and a couple of painkillers rather than anything else to drink. She already knew she was going to feel hungover tomorrow. But it was Saturday night, they had been at Mitch’s school friend’s birthday party. And she didn’t want Mitch to think she was a wet blanket. And if she was being completely honest, she didn’t want the night to end. She had been having too much fun. It was the first time she had been out with a big group of Mitch’s old friends and she had loved it. Mitch had really let his hair down and it had been funny seeing him with them all. She actually felt part of the crew, ribbing him about his clothes, about his taste in music, about his love life.

‘So, come on,’ Mitch said, ‘let’s have it in “the sitting room!”’ He laughed loudly, even though it really wasn’t funny.

The flat they shared had just the one bedroom but they had turned the sitting room into a bedroom for Mitch, and this had become the room they hung out in when they were both at home. It was in a beautiful mansion block not far from the Royal Albert Hall. Rosie sometimes thought back to that terrible afternoon just a stone’s throw from her now-flat when Connor had told her the news that he was moving to the US. The girl she was then seemed a million miles away from the life she was now living. She still had to pinch herself to believe she was actually living somewhere so amazing but it did have its drawbacks. They were the youngest inhabitants of the building by several decades and regularly got complaints about any noise they made after 9pm.

‘Shh,’ Rosie said as they giggled their way through what their landlord referred to as ‘a dining hall’ but which Mitch used for storing his bike and Rosie kept her cupboard of shoes in.

‘Careful!’ She raised her voice as Mitch knocked into the bike and sent it crashing to the floor. He lay in a heap giggling and despite her concern over the neighbours she couldn’t help but join him in the laughter.

‘Look! I didn’t spill a drop!’ Mitch chuckled, lifting the glass he was already holding steady above his head, despite the fact he was entangled with a bike on the floor.

Rosie rolled her eyes. ‘When was the last time you actually used that thing, anyway?’ she asked, taking the glass from him and pulling him to his feet with her spare hand.

‘Can’t remember,’ Mitch said, staggering slightly again. ‘I got it because I look really hot in lycra.’ He raised an eyebrow at her and winked. Or attempted to.

Rosie tried not to think of this image. Ever since they had moved in together she had studiously avoided being anywhere near the bathroom if there was a fleeting chance Mitch might be passing through semi-clad. Imagining him now in lycra was doing nothing to help the unnerving feelings she experienced when she thought of his body. Rosie followed him into his bedroom, where Mitch tried to kick a cushion out of the way and ended up missing by about three feet. Rosie rolled her eyes.

‘Just sit down,’ she gave him a shove, laughing, ‘before you fall down.’

Mitch passed her his glass before collapsing into a semi-prone position on his bed, which doubled as their sofa. Rosie looked at him, wondering if she should just leave him to sleep it off.

‘I’m fine!’ he assured her. Propping himself up, he took the two glasses from her, putting them on his bedside table and then pulled her down to sit next to him.

‘Music?’ he asked, pointing a remote control at his stereo. She nodded in agreement. ‘So long as you’re not rude about it, though,’ he said sternly. ‘Can’t believe you joined in with them all earlier on.’

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