Page 85 of The Good Boys Club

Mash didn’t answer. He just stared at me, his brow furrowed, his eyes glistening in the evening sun. He looked tearful, or like he was going to be sick. He swallowed, never broke eye-contact.

“So, perhaps you could invite your friend and Jacob to the Harvest Moon shift in two weeks, and if your friend can’t make it, oh well, maybe you could show Jacob around the reserve,” Mash said, still looking at me.

“Do you think Mum would mind?” Felix said. The fish hadn’t bitten.

“Of course not. She loves you and wants you to be happy.” Then Mash looked at me and mouthed, “I’m sorry.”

I couldn’t concentrate on anything, and I couldn’t think about anything except what had just happened. I replayed every encounter between Mash and me which could have been an indicator of his real feelings. Was he lying? Or had he been great at hiding them? Or had I just been extremely naive and stupid?

Did he know about my feelings for him? And if he did, why the fuck had he not said anything before?

He avoided looking at me for the rest of the evening, but Felix seemed a little less sullen.

Eventually, Mash looked at his watch and declared it time to drop Felix home. We got in my car, Felix in the back, and I drove to Clem’s B&B.

“I don’t need bodyguards,” Felix said as both Mash and I stepped out to escort him to reception.

“I just need to have a chat with your uncle,” I said.

“Oh, fuck,” Mash huffed.

And then he legged it down the road.

Chasing My Tail

Nine Months Earlier

Mash

It was loud, even by my standards. Everyone was drunk, the open bar already running low on certain types of alcohol. It was messy. I’d been into the men’s room for a piss and heard two people fucking in one stall and a third puking their guts up in another. And the food hadn’t been served yet.

The restaurant was one of those futuristic places, all white and grey and lit up with pink strip-neons. It usually sold tiny plates of overpriced stodge with the slogan “better with friends” or some shit like that.

Cian was struggling. They were his colleagues, but he’d already pulled in on himself, his defences up, shoulders hunched. From across the dining room, I saw folks attempt to talk to him, but he’d respond with a shake of the head and a tightly pursed mouth.

I needed to do something, save him, get him out of here, or get some decent food inside him to mop up all the booze. Or . . . not even decent food, but some food. He was likely hangry on top of being overstimulated and drunk.

A waiter wearing a white shirt and black waistcoat barged past me and I leapt into action. “’Scuse me, can I get some food? Only, my friend looks on the verge of passing out.”

The waiter huffed at me. “I’m so sorry,” he said in a way that suggested he was not in the least bit sorry, or even cared. “We’re running a little late. I don’t know when the food’s going to be ready. Probably in the next twenty minutes.”

“Someone told me it’d be twenty minutes half an hour ago.”

The waiter simply shrugged, then disappeared into the kitchen area.

I looked at Ci, who stared vacantly back at me. I wanted to tell him I was going to bust into the kitchens and save the day—a smash and grab kinda job—but the music was too loud to shout over, and the lighting was too dim for lip reading.

So, I would just have to do the crime and bring him the spoils. I turned around, and one of his colleagues—Jo, I think her name was—grabbed my face with both her hands and pulled my lips down to hers.

In an instant, her tongue was in my mouth. She tasted of alcopops, of sugar and artificial raspberry.

“Geddoffme!” I yelled, pushing her away.

“Sorry,” she said, looking both upset with me and herself.

When I turned around again, Cian was gone. Vanished. My gaze flitted over to the lift panels, to the red LED number climbing higher and higher . . . eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, fourteen, R, where it stopped.

Fine, if I couldn’t get food from the actual waiters, there was another place for me to go. I walked over to the lifts, collected my jacket from the coat stand on the way, and threw it on. I pressed the button for level ten instead of the roof, even though I knew that’s where Ci was.

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