I use my phone to figure out where Forge is. I’ll be ten minutes later than I said I would be but that’s only because there were so many people to say goodbye to before I left. Sorry. You know how it is when you try to leave somewhere. God, isn’t it hot today? I hope I look OK. It’s been go go go since I woke up, I swear my face must look like a melted snowman’s. Oh, I look perfect, you say? No way! You’re lying. Bless you.
I get into character as I dodge the clusters of loud office-workers spilling out onto pavements, clutching pink pints of flavoured beers, and delaying going home to their lonely flat-shares. I smile at everyone I saunter past, and receive many smiles back. I arrive outside Forge, which is surrounded by a dense moat of drunken sunshine seekers. It’s not rained for weeks now, but we’re still all desperate to make the most of it. My confidence wavers as I realise I know no one here, and I’m about to meet not only Josh, who is basically a stranger, but all of his workmates too. It takes a moment to shake April off and find Gretel again, who isn’t even thinking about what it means to meet a man’s workmates on a second date, she’s just enjoying this crazy little adventure we all share called Life with a capital L.
Gretel is such a fucking dick, I swear.
‘Gretel!’
There’s a delay between Josh calling my name and me registering he means me.
He tries again. ‘Gretel!’
This time I kick in, twisting in the direction of his voice, a playful smile already on my face. I spot him amongst the ocean of loosened ties, and raise a hand to wave hi. He’s standing with a group of all men cradling mostly finished pints. I feel their eyes on me as I make my way over, weaving gracefully through the throng, keeping my smile on the whole time. I reach Josh, and, without hesitating, lean in for a hello kiss on the cheek. ‘This is so weird that you’re here,’ I say, faking excitement at the odds of it. ‘It was a good thing you messaged when you did, I was about to get on the Tube.’
I can tell Josh is drunk from the sweetness on his breath and the way he clutches me a bit too intimately for only one date.
I wave at the clutch of IT men. ‘Hi, I’m Gretel,’ I say, picturing my floating Pocahontas trail. ‘Who wants a drink?’ I point to their mostly empty pints and, bewildered by my sudden arrival, they nod.
Shit. That’s all my payday money gone within one evening.
‘Great! Same again?’ I turn to Josh who’s still grinning at me with his slightly sunburnt, excitable, drunken face. ‘And you?’
‘Yes, that would be great. Cheers.’
That’s another fiver.
‘Brilliant!’
The bar inside is dark, cooler, and adorned with fake flowers hanging inexplicably from the ceiling. It’s mostly empty apart from the scrabble of people at the bar. The staff wilt behind the counter, leaning over and letting people yell instructions, nodding, while also frantically scanning the rest of the queue to see if they’ll ever get a breather. One lines up a queue of Magners, splashing each bottle into pint glasses filled with ice, a sheen of sweat glistening on his face like a glazed doughnut. I scan the queue for the best entry point, doing the maths of crowd flow to figure out where to stand to get served quicker. I pick a spot, push in, and, I’m just in the process of trying to make eye contact with a barmaid when I feel Josh’s presence behind me. I arrange my face into a smile and twist around. His face is already in a giant grin.
‘Well, fancy seeing you here,’ I say, blinking more than I normally do.
His grin stretches wider. He’s too drunk to hide how very glad he is to see me. ‘I thought I’d come and pay for your round,’ he explains. ‘It’s very polite of you to offer and everything, but I don’t feel it’s right for you to blow fifty quid on beer for my work friends.’
The thoughtfulness almost makes me stumble. That, and the relief that I don’t have to financially cripple myself buying six London Pale Ales. ‘Thank you,’ I tell him, just as I manage to grab the bar lady’s attention. I lean over and shout my order at her