Page 39 of The Gin Lover's Guide to Dating

‘But, you can meet with your real friends without her, yes? Without the other colleagues?’

‘That’s not really how it works.’ I look at the floor miserably. ‘We all go out together in a big group. And it looks like she’s become a regular feature. Although… maybe I could speak with Anya… She’s pretty much my best friend…’

I pause thoughtfully, before continuing.

‘You know, you’re right. Friends should support each other, no matter what. Maybe if I can chat with Anya alone, Icanarrange another way of catching up with my actual friends, without the others. Then I wouldn’t feel ashamed.’

‘Yes, Chica.’ Reyes nods vigorously. ‘This is what you must do.’

‘I’ll see if I can speak to her tonight.’

This thought perks me up enough to get me off my seat and working on some bits and pieces behind the bar, while Amir and Reyes serve my ex-colleagues and the handful of other customers. Keeping my distance, I watch Anya like a hawk.

An hour or so later, I see my opportunity. Anya skips off to the Ladies and I move down the corridor to the toilets. I hang around outside the door to the Ladies for about five minutes, all the time praying that Clara won’t reappear and sack me on the spot.

Eventually Anya emerges through the door, and on seeing me, stops short.

‘Oh, Liv. You OK?’ she asks.

‘Yeah, I’m fine.’ I’m unable to hide the urgency in my voice. ‘Listen, I just wanted a quick word. It’s been ages since we caught up, and I’ve really missed you.’

‘I’ve missed you too.’ Anya’s words ring true, but something doesn’t seem right; she looks uncomfortable.

‘I was wondering if maybe we could meet up, just you and me, so I can chat to you about some stuff. And then maybe you, me, Tom and a few of the others could get together? You know, so we don’t lose touch. You guys are my best friends and I really miss you all.’

Instead of reacting warmly and affectionately to my sincere gesture of friendship, Anya now looks like a cornered animal; like I’ve just invited her to join some kind of crazy cult.

‘Oh… Liv. I’d love that. Really. Only I’d feel uncomfortable about making it some kind of exclusive group. And I’mreallysnowed just now. These nights out with the group are about all I can manage.’ She pauses for a second. ‘But you can totally join us on our next night out… that is, if you’re not working.’

I scrutinise Anya silently for a few moments. She couldn’t look any less at ease: anxiously playing with the rings on her fingers, eyes darting all over the place. She’s desperate to get away.

I’m beginning to doubt that Anya is my ‘best friend’. I’m suddenly seeing that she’s not a friend at all – no more than Tom, Stella or any of the others. Have I been fooling myself, thinking we had some kind of special connection and bond? Has it all been false: a façade based on not much more than a shared office, common expertise, and the politics that go with it? A hurt deeper than I knew possible slices through my consciousness. I realise I’m even more alone and hopeless than I had feared. I had been avoiding my so-called friends. But it had been on my terms, nothing more than self-preservation – and I’d expected to be able to pick things up again as soon as I’d sorted out my situation. How wrong have I been? I realise I need to wrap this up.

‘Right.’ I nod. ‘Of course. I understand. Well, I’ll leave you to enjoy your night.’

I don’t wait for an answer. I simply walk off and return to the bar, my misery having reached a new low. As I pick up some dirty glasses from the bar counter and put them in the glass washer, I look up and see Anya scuttling back to the group, and towards Tom, who listens to her intently. Fleeting glances flash from both of them in my direction. Tom then leans in confidentially to the rest of the group and they all finish their drinks quickly and get up to leave. As they file down the steps and out of the bar, they each nod politely, saying their goodbyes.

All, that is, apart from Anya, Tom and Stella, who avoid eye contact. Sharon is last down the steps, and as she passes me, she can’t help having one last dig.

‘Good luck with thenew job, Liv.’ It’s clear she’s referring to my current predicament, rather than my fictitious communications role.

Her callousness is razor sharp. For the first time in decades, I feel tears start to prick at my eyes. I blink them back furiously.

‘Good. The second beast is gone.’ Reyes joins me behind the bar a few minutes later with a tray of empty glasses from another table. ‘Are you OK, Chica?’

‘You know what, Reyes?’ I sigh in defeat. ‘I honestly don’t know if I am. I can’t do this anymore. I’m losing myself, and I can’t bear it. I’m going to go and tell Aaron that I’m quitting.’

‘Liv, you can’t.’ Amir, who has just joined us, looks at me in alarm. ‘Don’t let those bastards win. Don’t let the beast win. They’re not worth it. You’re better than all of them – put together.’

‘He is correct. Please do not leave, Chica.’ Reyes pleads with me.

‘Sleep on it, at least.’ Amir squeezes my shoulder.

‘Sleep on what?’ a voice intrudes on our little triangle.

We turn to see Aaron standing behind us. He’s eyeing us curiously.

‘Aaron… good timing.’ I sigh again. ‘I need to talk to you about—’

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