Page 24 of All Mine
‘We saw,’ Fox said, clinking their glasses together.
‘So, when are you getting together?’
Etienne took a long swallow of beer.
‘Don’t know yet,’ he said, finally. ‘The fun is in the chase at the moment.’
‘That makes a change for you.’ Fox laughed.
‘Maybe she’s holding out for me,’ Walker suggested, earning himself his third and final dead arm of the night.
‘One thing I do know, though. . .’ Etienne took another drink. ‘My cock’s working fine.’
Chapter Fifteen
Isabella
Girl Gang WhatsApp group
Wren: My head hurts.
Rosie: My eyeballs hurt.
Isabella: I woke up on the sofa fully clothed ten minutes ago.
Amber: My lips are stained blue.
Isabella: OMIGOD, they are drilling downstairs.
Amber: I found five paper umbrellas on my pillow.
Wren: Come to The Lit Lounge in an hour.
Rosie: We’ll put the coffee on.
The door jangled, making Wren cringe and put her hands to her head, as Isabella stepped inside The Lit Lounge. Rosie had replaced her usual oversized tortoiseshell glasses with oversized prescription sunglasses and her plaits were spiralled around her head like a bandage. Amber, still with bright blue lips, slumped in one of the stuffed armchairs with a large cup of coffee in front of her, her eyes shut.
Every wall was lined floor to ceiling with bookshelves, and Isabella spied a ladder on one side. Hand-illustrated signs showed customers to the ‘kids’ corner’; another to ‘killer thrillers’; a third happily announced ‘cliterary fiction’. The bare floorboards were covered in colourful rugs, coffee tables were made from painted pallets and old travel trunks, and every armchair had a brightly crocheted cushion on it.
‘How do you take your coffee?’ Rosie asked, which would have made Isabella smile if she weren’t so hungover that it hurt to move unnecessarily. Funny that they all knew each other’s favourite cocktails, throwback anthems and dance moves, but not how they took their coffee.
‘Espresso,’ said Isabella.
She let herself collapse back into the armchair next to Amber as Rosie shouted, ‘Watch out for Barney!’ and Wren said, ‘Wait!’ But it was too late and she landed on an old ginger cat, who shot out from under her with a yowl.
Barney strolled away nonchalantly and jumped into one of the other armchairs. Isabella then noticed the tiny tabby cat in Amber’s lap. Scanning the room, she spotted at least another four, in all colours and sizes, in various poses of sleep. There was even one in the window, curled up in the smallest puddle of sun.
‘Sorry, should have warned you,’ Rosie said. ‘We have a lot of cats.’
‘You’re not allergic, are you?’ Wren added.
‘The only thing I’m allergic to is obviously alcohol,’ Isabella said. ‘I feel like death.’
Amber nodded without opening her eyes. Rosie and Wren brought the coffees over and pulled their own armchairs into a circle.
‘Welcome to Honeybridge. You’re a local now you’ve survived a Throwback Thursday.’
Isabella managed a weak smile. ‘I can’t wait to take Gabi when she visits.’
