This guy, Luis, is a great dancer. The band are whipping the guests into a frenzy, forcing us closer together as bodies careen around us. And I find myself thinking about how bloody stressful and lonely my whole day has been. Charlie’s largely responsible for that. I don’t want to think about him right now, though. I’m too angry with him, too sad. Besides, when was the last time I abandoned myself to some music … when was the last time I had a really good dance? When was the last time I felt this desired, this bloody sexy? It feels like I lost that part of myself somewhere along the way. For these few hours I’m going to enjoy having it back. I put my hands above my head. I swing my hair, feel it brush the bare skin of my shoulders. I feel Luis watching me. I find the rhythm of the music with my hips. I was always a good dancer – those years of practice in Manchester clubs in my teens, raving to all the latest anthems from Ibiza. I’d forgotten how much in tune it makes me feel with my own body, how much it turns me on. And I can see how good I look reflected in Luis’ approving expression, his gaze only leaving mine to travel down the length of my body as I move.
The music slows. Luis pulls me closer. His hands are on my waist and I can feel his heartbeat through his shirt, the heat of his chest beneath the fabric. I can smell his skin. His lips are inches away from mine. And I’m becoming aware, now our bodies are touching, that he’s hard, pressing against me.
I pull away a little, try to put a few centimetres of space between us. I need to clear my head. ‘You know what,’ I say. My voice has a tremor in it. ‘I think I’m going to go and get a drink.’
‘Sure,’ he says. ‘Great idea!’
I hadn’t meant him to come with me. I feel all of a sudden as though I need a bit of space, but at the same time I don’t have the energy to explain. So we head to the bar tent together.
‘How do you know Will?’ I shout, over the music. ‘What?’ He moves closer to hear, his ear brushing my lips.
I repeat the question. ‘Are you from Trevellyan’s too?’ I ask.
‘Oh,’ he says. ‘You mean the school? Nah, we went to the same uni in Edinburgh. We were on the rugby team together.’
‘Hey, Luis.’ A guy standing at the bar raises a hand and envelops him in a hug as we draw near. ‘Come join a lonely bloke in a drink, won’t you? I’ve lost Iona to the dance floor. Won’t be seeing her till the bitter end now.’ He catches sight of me. ‘Oh, hello. Pleased to meet you. Been keeping my boy company, have you? He spotted you in the chapel, you know—’
‘Shut up,’ Luis says, flushing. ‘But yeah, we’ve had a dance, haven’t we?’
‘I’m Hannah,’ I say. My voice comes out a little strangled. I’m wondering what I’m doing here.
‘Jethro,’ Luis’s friend says. ‘So, Hannah, what you fancy drinking?’ ‘Er—’ I waver, thinking I should be sensible. I’ve already had so
much to drink today. Then I think of Charlie, and what he told me about him and Jules. I want to regain that sense of freedom I felt, briefly, on the dance floor. I want to be a lot less sober. ‘A shot,’ I say, turning to the barman: it’s Eoin, from earlier. ‘Of … er – tequila.’ I don’t want to mess around.
Jethro raises his eyebrows. ‘Okaaay. I’m in. Luis?’
Eoin pours us three tequilas. We down our shots. ‘Christ,’ Luis says, slamming his down, his eyes tearing up. But I feel like mine hasn’t done anything. It might as well have been water.
‘Another,’ I say.
‘I like her,’ Jethro says to Luis. ‘But I’m not sure my liver does.’ ‘I think it’s fucking sexy,’ Luis says, beaming at me.
We do another shot.
‘You weren’t at Edinburgh,’ Jethro says, squinting at me. ‘Were you?
Know I’d remember you if you had been. Party girl like you.’
‘No,’ I say. That place again. The mere mention of it makes me feel a whole lot more sober. ‘I—’
‘We were,’ Jethro says, slinging an arm around Luis’ neck. ‘Time of our lives right, Lu? Still miss it. Miss playing rugby too. Though it’s
probably good for my own safety that I don’t.’ He points at the bridge of his nose, which is flattened, clearly an old break.
‘I lost a tooth,’ Luis says.
‘I remember!’ Jethro laughs. He turns to me. ‘Course, Will never got a scratch on him. Played winger, the bastard. Pretty boy position. That’s why he’s so disgustingly handsome.’
‘He was the worst blocker,’ Luis says, ‘when we went out after a match. You’d be there trying to chat up some girl and then Will would trundle over to ask if you wanted a round and they’d only have eyes for him.’
‘His hit rate was insane,’ Jethro says, nodding. ‘Only reason he joined the Reeling Society, because of the totty.Let’s not forget he wasn’t always such a player though. Remember the one who got away?’
‘Oh, yeah,’ Luis says. ‘I’d forgotten about that. The Northern girl, you mean? The clever one?’
Oh God. It feels as though horrible is coming into focus. And I can only stand here and watch it.
‘Yeah,’ Jethro says. ‘Like you.’ He winks at me. ‘He got his own back though when she dumped him. Remember, Luis?’
Luis squints. ‘Not really. I mean … I remember she left uni. Didn’t she? I remember him being pretty cut up when she broke it off. Always thought she was a bit too smart for him.’
The sick feeling in the pit of my stomach grows.
‘That video that did the rounds, remember?’ Jethro says. ‘Shiiiiit,’ Luis says, eyes widening. ‘Yeah, of course. That was …
savage.’
‘It’s probably found its way on to PornHub now,’ Jethro says. ‘Vintage section, obviously. Wonder what she’s doing now. Knowing it’s out there somewhere.’
‘Hey,’ Luis says suddenly, looking at me. ‘You all right? Jesus—’ he puts a hand on my arm. ‘You’ve actually gone white.’ He grimaces, sympathetically. ‘That last shot go down the wrong way?’
I shove him away and stumble away from them. I need to get outside.
I barely make it out in time before I fall on to my hands and knees and vomit on to the ground. My whole body is trembling as though I am running a fever. I’m dimly aware of a couple of guests, standing inside the entrance, murmuring their shock and disgust, the tinkle of a laugh. I vaguely register that the weather out here has become so much wilder, whipping my hair away from my head, stinging the tears from my eyes.
I vomit again. But unlike with my seasickness on the boat I don’t feel any better. This sickness cannot be alleviated. It has gone down deep inside me, the poison of this new knowledge. It has found its way to my very core.
