wearing a McQueen mini dress and Chloe over the knee leather boots, all black of course, with my thigh length parka at least five sizes too big for me but I like it that way. Pete tells me I need to eat and I look pale. I am pale.
"I fell off George at the weekend Pete, it bloody hurts all down my side, getting dressed hurts, putting a bra on hurts, climbing up into the Landy hurts..." I want to tell her about the last twenty four hours, the tale can wait for some liquid courage and a bowl of hot chips, that vigorous sex with a stranger also hurts a little too.
"You haven’t asked me about my weekend." Pete chastises me as we sit in a dark corner in the pub. "I met a man." Bloody hell, where's that waiter?
My eyes can't hide the astonished look, I raise an eyebrow "but Pete..."
...."yes, I know" she tells me, "I like girls, but this man..."
Its how Pete and I met actually, she kissed me at a college party, I didn't protest, she is gorgeous. I’d had a few pints of snakebite, but we laughed about it later and have been friends ever since. "Well, tell me then." I ask, sipping from a huge glass bowl with an inch of wonderful deep red Spanish wine, it tastes like Christmas, and I feel warm inside. A trail of velvety smooth berry flavours reaches my brain, and it’s happy.
Pete, clearly enjoying her moment of revelation, tastes her white wine from South Africa, she dips a thick hand cut chip into mayonnaise looks at me and says "I think I’m in love Tharie." I nearly spit out my wine, but my reflexes save me in time, this wine is too good to waste.
"What!" I place my long stemmed glass securely on the table mat, gulp down my mouthful, and speak again slightly less disbelieving "Pete, tell me everything."
She begins the story "I am in the 'Square Bar' in Mayfair with work friends." Pete calls everyone friends, even though they are just work colleagues, just there for fleeting entertainment. "I’m standing by the bar, buying my round and there's this small group by the coats being very loud. Clearly artistic types wearing black, in jeans and band t's with cool floppy hair drinking whiskey, you know, your type of people." She looks at me over the edge of her glass for a reaction. Bloody cheek! My people indeed…what stylish, modern, creative, faintly Gothic? I get it, continue...
"I love that bar" I tell her, "the narrow cobbled walkway, with lights set in the ground leading the way to a covered alley, with seats each side, and lit torches around the bar entrance." I have danced many times in the small underground club, intimate seating under the arches beneath the old building, and a grand piano, though I’ve never seen anyone play it. The logo, a large eagle wings outstretched with a ship in its talons, dark blue ground black ink, like a tattoo drawing intricate and ancient looking. "They have great wine and a good selection of single malts" I laugh.
"Yes...and some very interesting people too." Pete cuts in eyebrows raised, clearly she's anxious to finish her story. "Then this guy leaves his mates and comes to the bar, orders a round of triple JD's straight up," looking at me, "your people." She says. I can't argue.
"Then what happens?" I ask in fake impatience, biting into a steaming hot wedge of fried potato, lots of sea salt sprinkled over it, love salt.
"This guy looks over at me, he is stunning Tharie, I have never seen a boy like it. Well, I’ve got an order of Cosmos’s a couple of sparkling wines and a rose, it's obvious I’m with the girls." She sips her wine with a smirk.
“Big Chris was with you too?” I enquire, sipping my wine.
“Of course, but he's one of the girls too!” She laughs. Big Chris is her friend from work, an extremely funny well-dressed man, who is very camp and bakes Victoria sponges to die for. But it's all a fake, he pretends he's gay, says it makes him more interesting and lets him be himself. Though, he's really not interested in girls either, his Pomeranian is called Butch and wins prizes apparently.
“Anyway,” Pete continues with more than a hint of 'shut up and let me finish', "he looks at my order turns away laughs to himself, 'you with the girls tonight?' He