Page 107 of The Gin Lover's Guide to Dating

‘Then we have a deal.’

I smile at her, and to my surprise, I feel my throat tighten and a light stinging at the backs of my eyes; the idea that I might have a mum who cares about me after all, suddenly becoming quite overwhelming. I swallow thickly in an attempt to compose myself.

‘I’d better get back to my friends, but I’ll pop round between Christmas and New Year for a proper catch-up. And, Mum… I’m proud of you for making this change. It can’t have been easy.’

‘That’s great. That’s… just great.’ My mum’s eyes are suddenly filled with nervous excitement. ‘I’ll make dinner. For you. And for Dylan. I owe him.’

‘Me too. Him, and…’ But I don’t say Graham’s name. I sigh, my stomach churning again as that omnipresent feeling of loss rears its head once more.

Chapter 30

The next morning, I’m heading home from the supermarket, enjoying the feel of the cold, crisp winter air, when I spot Anya walking along the street towards me.

She doesn’t see me at first. But the moment she does, that same look of awkwardness and discomfort from the night she first discovered I was working in a gin bar, returns.

‘Oh… hi… Liv… nice to see you. It’s been a while.’

I smile politely. ‘Hi, Anya. Yes, it has. Are you well?’

‘Yes, all good.’ She struggles to maintain eye contact with me. ‘How are… things?

I study her for a moment, amazed that it took me so long to see through her insincerity. It was always there, I now realise. But it was so subtle, and I was so drawn into what I thought was a great friendship, I never saw the warning signs.

‘If you mean the bar, I’m not working there anymore.’ I intentionally fail to elaborate, to see if she shows any further interest at all.

‘Right… good.’ She seems unsure where to go next. ‘So, what are you up to then?’

It could be an innocent question, fuelled by genuine curiosity, orsomelevel of concern for my wellbeing that she herself doesn’t even realise she has. But my instincts are bellowing at me that this is nothing more than a blatant fish for information, so she can take something juicy back to her gossip squad. I decide I’m going to give her as little as possible.

‘I’m self-employed now,’ I reply. ‘Decided to take up freelance writing – blogging, that kind of thing.’

‘That sounds interesting.’ Anya’s expression turns to one of curiosity, the bounce I used to find so endearing almost sneaks through. ‘I’ve always been interested in the idea of freelancing; being a creative entrepreneur. How’s that going for you?’

As I take in her ‘super-interested’ face, it’s like the whole three years of our now-defunct friendship flashes before me. Two things spring out: her expression, along with a never-ending stream of work-related gossip. She needs to be in the know. Not because she’s rooting for me to be a success. She needs to have and be able to share stories so she can create and maintain a bond with her colleagues: her way of securing her place with the ‘in’ crowd. None of it’s about genuine friendship. How did I not see this before?

‘It’s going OK,’ I reply eventually, now firm on sticking to my angle of non-elaboration. ‘Still early days. Will just have to see how it pans out.’

‘Right.’ Anya nods, her face already clearing of interest, now she’s under the impression that I’m still floundering in my career. ‘Well… it was good to see you.’

I’m under no illusion that it was anything of the sort, but at least the feeling’s mutual this time.

‘You too.’ I smile briefly.

‘See you then.’ Anya turns to walk away, then hesitates and swivels back on the spot. ‘Actually, since you mentioned a blog, Liv, me and the girls at works have becomeaddictedto one recently. It’s so clever and funny. The writer calls herself MissGinFizz. Think she’s doing really well.’

‘Really?’ I keep my face poker straight as I digest this.

‘Yes, you should check it out. Maybe you can pick up some tips from her work.’

It takes all my effort not to laugh out loud. Anya and her crew are subscribed to my blog? And they have no idea that I’m MissGinFizz. I could tell her and become ‘someone’ in their eyes again. Give Anya the ripest of gossip to take back to the office. But the thing is, I no longer care what she or any of her coven think of me. That world is now in my past, and that’s where it’s going to stay.

‘OK, thanks,’ I reply. ‘Sounds interesting. I’ll take a look.’

‘No problem.’ She smiles smugly, and my one-time ‘friend’ turns and trots off in the direction of the city centre.

Several hours later, I’m camped out at a table in Hanover One, one of Edinburgh’s swankiest gin bars, situated in the city centre – and a top rival to my ex place of employment, Amethyst. As it’s Friday, the after-work crowd are making the most of their long-awaited freedom; some of them dressed in Christmas jumpers and wearing antlers and Santa hats, evidently on some kind of Christmas night out. The leather-seated booths have, till not long ago, been crammed full of high-spirited, boisterous colleagues, no doubt since the late afternoon. But as it’s reached the time when some of the office packs start to fall away, they’re gradually replaced by other types of punters, like smaller friendship groups and couples.

I hate sitting in bars alone at the weekend – even if it is just for research purposes – so I’ve recruited Dylan and Amir to join me for a couple of hours, before they head to the pub to watch the football. Amir, enjoying a rare Friday night off, is making the most of this opportunity.

---