4. Claire

2012-01-10T22:41:00.003Z

“Where’s mytoothbrush?” Claire shouted, throwing clothes from her wardrobe into one of hergiant overnight bags. Margaret walked into her room, toothbrush in hand.

“In the bathroom, where you put itevery time you brush your teeth,” she said. “How do you always manage to bethis rushed?”

“Because she’s Claire, she’s alwayslate for everything!” came Jill’s voice from the living room, where she waslying upside down on the sofa reading a book.

“You could be a bit helpful instead ofjust lying there pointing out the obvious and getting a headache!” Claireyelled from her room. Jill swung herself upright and put her book down.

“Alright, don’t get all stressy. Whatdo you need me to do?”

“If you’re all packed and ready, canyou help me find my dress? I had it yesterday when I brought it home but I’velost it now.”

“Oh I borrowed it for my party lastnight, it’s in my room. I’ll go get it for you!” she added, sounding like shefelt put out by the effort of the gesture. Margaret put her hand on Claire’sarm to try and stop her from getting angry. Jill walked back in, “You guysshould have come last night, it was so hilarious and, like, awesome!”

“We weren’t invited,” Margaret remindedher, “It was all the people from your drama course and you said we’d be out ofplace if we went.” Claire made a noise that sounded like a growl and tried topass it off as a cough. Jill continued, oblivious to her angry audience, “Oh ofcourse, but still it was so funny ‘cause you know Luke? He got so drunk andstarted doing one of the exercises from class and then Stephen and Mikey justdidn’t stop staring at my chest!”

“Maybe that was because you werewearing my dress and it was too small for you.” Claire offered throughsemi-gritted teeth.

“No, you bum, it fitted me! We’re thesame size, remember?” Jill laughed. Claire, who had always been slim (more sonow from living off a student income) smiled wryly at Jill, who had beenspending her student income on cheap junk food and alcohol and had, as Claireliked to put it, ‘blossomed’ over the past two years. Despite this, she hadalways insisted that she was the same size as all of her friends when there wasquite a difference between her and everyone else. She strolled into Claire’sroom with the dress swinging from her fingertips. Claire resisted the urge tosnatch it angrily from her and laid it down on the bed to inspect it. Margaretrecoiled as it was unfolded and sniffed the air. She turned to Jill anddemanded, “Did you smoke in that dress last night?” Claire, who had now smeltthe odour for herself, turned to Jill with her hands on her hips. Jill wasshifting uncomfortably on her feet.

“I only had one, I told you I wastrying to quit and I am.” Claire grimaced and strained to keep the anger insideherself.

“That’s not the point, Jill,” she said,“I couldn’t care less if you smoke or not, you're the one who wants to dieyoung.”

“So what’s the problem?” asked Jill,sounding genuinely confused.

“You borrowed my new dress withoutasking and then made it reek of smoke before I’d even worn it once and I cansee that you’ve stretched it at the seams!” Claire burst out, losing hercomposure for a moment. Jill looked shocked, as did Margaret. Neither had seenher really lose her cool for some time.

“Whoa, Hun, are you ok? Are you, youknow, like, on your period?” Jill ventured. Claire looked at her, trying tocontrol her expression into less of a death stare than she thought Jill deserved.

“No.” she said simply. Margaret,attempting to ease the huge tension levels, suggested that Jill go and readagain while she and Claire finished packing Claire’s bag ready to leave.

“You know what they say,” she added,glancing nervously at a seething Claire, “Too many cooks and all that.” Jillleft, not because she had taken the hint or noticed that she was herself thecause of Claire’s extreme mood swing, but because she was always eager not tohelp where possible.

4. Lucy

2012-01-03T16:01:00.002Z

Lucy felt like screaming.She usually only felt like this when she was forced to write essays onhideously boring people. It was a feeling of being trapped under a huge pile oftriviality that she just didn’t care about but that she knew was going to meanhuge trouble for her if she didn’t do anything about it soon. One more minorirritation could push her over the edge, she knew it.

The doorbell rang.

“Joe! Get the door!” Lucy yelled.

“I’m going, Hun, don’t worry.” Heopened the door to find Carter standing there with a concerned expression onhis face.

“Hey, Joe, what’s going on?” he asked

“Oh babe, thank goodness you came!”

“You said it was an emergency withLucy, I was worried. Of course I came.”

“Aw you’re so sweet, darling.”

“Are you going to tell me what’s goingon?”

“She’s nearing a nervous breakdown,”Joe explained, “Unreliable people really get to her.” Carter nodded. Joe showedhim through to the living room and they waited outside the door, listening toLucy on the phone.

“How can you say that? It’s on aSaturday night and it’s here!” there was quiet as whoever was on the other endattempted to make excuses. Then Lucy replied, audibly getting angrier, “Claireand Jill are coming from Leeds. James is coming from Exeter. What excuse couldyou possibly have not to come from Warwick? … You what? Do you realise whoyou’re saying that to? Don’t even try and talk to me about workloads. Sue’scoming from Oxford, giving up her weekend even though she has an exam onMonday. … I know she is, but you’re taking photography and she’s takingEconomics so that comparison doesn’t really count, does it? … You already saidyou would come … Yes I’m angry! … Fine, do whatever you want but this is one ofthe only opportunities we have to see everyone until summer and everyone alwaysgoes away in summer anyway. I’ll just tell Georgia you have too many picturesto colour in to come and celebrate her 21^st with all the rest of ourfriends. Sorry, what? I can’t hear you over her disappointment. You're breakingup now, bye!” Lucy hung up the phone and took a big breath, getting ready tolet out a stress-releasing scream. Joe saw an opportunity, pre-scream, and ranin, dragging Carter after him.

“Look who came to visit you, babe!”

Lucy saw them and converted her screamto as excited a cry as she could.

“Carter! I thought you weren’t cominguntil later?”

“Joe sent me a distress message.”

“Joseph, you utter babe,” Lucy cried asshe flung her arms around Joe. Then she turned to Carter, “I missed you.” shetold him as he engulfed her in a hug.

“I missed you more.” he replied.

“I look like shit, I’m so stressed outI haven’t had a shower yet today!” Lucy realised, panic levels rising.

“You look gorgeous, don’t worry.”

“Although maybe changing out of yourpyjamas would be a good idea,” added Joe, “And a shower probably wouldn’thurt.” Lucy looked at him sarcastically as they all sat down on the sofas. Sheburied her face in Carter’s chest and told them about her stresses so far thatday.

“ … so now I have to find cups and away to tell Georgia that Billie isn’t coming to her birthday. And that’s justtoday’s problems, this has been going on all week!” Carter stroked her arm tocomfort her.

“So how many people are coming intotal?” he asked.

“About 72, I think.”

“You’re joking,” said Joe, “that’stons! What are you worrying about?”

“I invited 134.”

“Oh, right.”

“Doesn’t Tillie’s have a 100-personlimit?” asked Carter.

“On paper, but it always has loads morethan that in there. It’s going to look so empty and everyone’s going to laughat me!”

“Everyone’s only going to laugh at youif you look like that.” Joe gestured to her pyjamas, her messy bun and smudgedmakeup that she couldn’t be bothered to take off the night before. “Go have ashower and get dressed and I’ll keep Carter company down here.”

“Good plan. I’ll try to be quick,” shesaid as she gave Carter a kiss.

“Yuck, get a room,” said Joe. Lucy stoodup and pointed sternly at him.

“You. No trying to convert my boyfriendto your bus again. 3in a row is enough, got it?” Joe smirked andnodded resignedly. Lucy walked away.

“Mate, what was she on about?” Carterasked.

“I may have accidentally-on-purposeconverted her last three boyfriends to being gay. All I did was encourage themto try something new but she thinks it’s like this big deal or something.”Carter looked surprised.

“Wait, are you gay?”

“You are kidding, right? Lucy alwayssays I’m the gayest gay who ever gayed, she calls me her sister!”

“I thought that was just a joke! I knewshe had a gay friend but I thought it was Michael!” Carter cried. Joe burst outlaughing, “How could you not have known? Michael’s straight, trust me.”

“Trust you? Sounds like you're prettysure. You didn’t…?” Carter asked. Joe coughed loudly and pointedly.

“You know what? I think there’s a reallygood documentary on the T.V. Or a re-run, or something. Anything.”

3. Georgia

2011-12-28T16:34:00.001Z

“So I mentionedto Lucy about your birthday coming up and she’s decided you have to have it here.She’s even started planning.”

“You’re like an evil genius.”

“You think I’m evil?”

“No, you’re the evil genius without theevil part.”

“So I’m a genius then?”

“Actually I just meant you were sneaky,I don’t think I’d get that carried away and call you a genius,” Georgialaughed, “It would only give you a big ego.”

“But I thought you loved my big ego?”whined the voice on the other end of the phone line, mockingly.

“That’s not why I love you, silly.That’s what I put up with because of it.” replied Georgia. She was met with asilence which she knew was intended to make her uneasy. “You know I hate itwhen you do that.” she said.

“That’s why I do it.”

“Neil.”

“I love you, Georgia.”

“Much better. Now tell me about myparty.”

“I can’t, I promised Lucy that I’d keepit a secret if I spoke to you. Not that she knows I talk to you this much, butthat’s only because she doesn’t know about us being together. Well, becausenobody does, I suppose. We’ve actually kept it quite a good secret, it’s goingreally well, don’t you think?”

“She needs to know, Neil. I’ve decidedto tell her and I’m not changing my mind this time no matter what you say.”Georgia sat up straight and puffed her chest out, trying to sound as assertiveas possible and knowing that good posture would make her sound as defiant asshe was aiming to be. Another silence reached her ears and she could imagine toherself what Neil was thinking. Neil wanted their relationship to stay a secretfor as long as possible. He had been told too many stories about fights betweenthe girls in high school when they had all gone through a phase of essentiallyswapping boyfriends every few months. Even now, after having had it allexplained to him so many times, he couldn’t remember who had dated whom and whohad kissed or swapped or the order in which any of it had happened. He waseager to avoid being the cause of any repeat of any of those falling outs.

“Gee, I get that you don’t want this tobe a secret anymore but maybe now isn’t the best time.”

“You never think it’s the best time.Actually, my birthday would be the perfect time. She’ll be happy because it’s aparty with all her friends and her new boyfriend.”

“She’ll be stressed out because she’sorganising the party and Steve and Claire will both be there, and so will Jilland several other difficult people,” countered Neil, “Not the best time.”

“So Joe can be in charge of peacemakingand Carter can be in charge of distracting her from the organising stress.”Georgia reasoned. Neil sighed.

“You’re really set on telling heraren’t you, babe?”

“Nothing you can say will change mymind. I’ve thought about it.” There was a silence from Neil on the other side.“Come on,” Georgia prodded, “you know and I know that she needs to know. It’snot like she’ll make a big fuss over it, it’s Lucy for goodness’ sake.”

“If there’s really no way to changeyour mind then fine, but if this all goes tits-up then you can’t stop me fromsaying ‘I told you so’.” Neil warned. Georgia breathed a sigh of relief. Shehad been worried that this would have been a lot more difficult. Neil was usedto getting his own way and could be the most stubborn person if he thought hewasn’t going to get it. For some reason, though, Georgia seemed to be the onlyperson who was able to get away with whatever she wanted. In the three monthsthat they’d been secretly dating, they hadn’t seen each other all that often,but every couple of weeks Neil would stop in Nottingham to see her when he wason his way to or from his parents’ houses in Yorkshire. His parents put him ina bad mood and Georgia was the best and the only way he could cheer himself up,or so he told her. She pretended to believe him.

The truth was, Georgia was afraid thatLucy had always done a better job of cheering him up. In fact, Georgia wasafraid that Lucy had done a better job of everything when she was with Neil,and she was just as hesitant as Neil to come clean about their relationship.What if Lucy’s reaction was angrier than Georgia expected? What if it wasn’teven anger, but smugness because Lucy was the longest relationship that Neilhad ever had. Everyone had thought that Lucy and Neil had the perfectrelationship. Georgia rarely had relationships, she always fell for the wrongpeople. Guys who already had girlfriends or had no interest in her or arelationship in general. Danger and rule-breaking were what attracted Georgia.Neil wasn’t even her type; he was clean-cut, well groomed and had a rower’sbody and discipline, he was nice and polite and he loved her. He wasn’t afraidof commitment and he always shared his feelings when she asked. But every sooften, he would say or do something that made Georgia afraid that he wascomparing her to Lucy and in her mind, she never won.

3. Claire

2011-12-19T10:43:00.000Z

“Seriously,” Michael was saying, “I am not even joking. All the way in, except for one foot just sticking out the door!” on the other end of the phone, Claire, Clive, Jill and Margaret were in hysterics.

“So I came into the room and I was like ‘Susan Brown, what are you doing?’ and she was so wasted that she had no idea who I even was!” the foursome broke out into raucous laughter once more.

“How does she deal with that much drinking? Isn’t it a miracle she’s still alive?” Clive asked.

“I don’t know how she made it past year ten. And she always says that she isn’t going to drink a lot, every time we go out! She’s-”

“Oh I know!” Jill interjected, “When I used to see her at parties and stuff she was always, like, instantly drunk!”

“How would you know? You’re always more drunk than everyone else anyway!” laughed Margaret. Jill looked at her menacingly and snarled, “Well if we’re talking about drunk people here, what about you? You were the one who nearly fell out of that tree the other night after two cocktails!” The others ignored her tone and continued laughing.

“Ooh what about that one time that Michael nearly went home with the bartender? The male bartender!” Claire squealed. Michael’s voice came through the speakerphone.

“He said his name was Alex and he had a ponytail! He was very skinny!”

“He wasn’t even as skinny as you, Mike. And he had stubble!”

“It was dark, I couldn’t see the stubble from where I was. Besides, the eyeliner threw me off and he was very flirty!” At this, the group exploded in laughter once more. Suddenly, there was a piercing, electronic-sounding wail. Everybody turned to Clive, who shamefully reached for his pocket and pulled out his phone.

“I’ll change the tone later, I promise.”

“That’s what you say every time it goes off,” pointed out Margaret, “and it doesn’t make it any less maddening.”

“Maddening?” snickered Jill.

“I have a word-of-the-day calendar, that was on it last week.” Explained Margaret proudly. Claire could see Jill’s grin was turning bitchy and she didn’t want her to make fun of Margaret’s new vocabulary, when Margaret herself was so proud of it. She decided to cut in before anything was said.

“Clive, don’t you have to go, then?” Clive looked upset, he was always waiting for anything he could turn into a catfight.

“It’s fine, I have my car.”

“Ooh, aren’t you fancy?” said Michael’s voice.

“Just admit you’re jealous.” retorted Clive.

“Clive, you’re such a lazy fatso! You can walk to your class from here!” said Margaret. Jill saw an opportunity and seized it.

“Is ‘lazy fatso’ on your word calendar, Marge?” she said mockingly. Claire sighed inwardly. Jill was forever trying to attack Margaret. Instead of getting upset as usual, though, Margaret just looked at Jill and said, “Yes, actually.” In the time it took for Jill to figure out whether or not this was a lie, the rest of the group had burst out laughing again, this time at her. Not wanting to appear like she wasn’t a part of the group, Jill laughed along, pretending she knew what was happening. Clive’s phone went off again, prompting the rest of the group to practically force him out of the door to his class. After he had left, Margaret announced that she had to leave as well, since she needed to get ready for a date she was going on later with someone she had met at Jill’s last show. When it was just Jill and Claire left with Michael on the phone, talk turned to the next birthday: Georgia’s.

“Last year her party was so, like, depressing,” said Jill, “It would have been ok but, like, everyone was away so it was just a few of us.”

“Yeah I know what you mean,” agreed Michael, “Plus there was that massive fight that a certain couple had. Cough.”

“We said we were sorry about that!” protested Claire, “And besides, we aren’t the only couple who have ever had a fight at a birthday party. Jill.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Jill, confused.

“I’m talking about you and Bob, or Rob, or whatever his name was.”

“Oh him,” Jill said, “His name was John, though.”

“Oh I remember John!” put in Michael, “He had weird hair, right?”

“Yeah that was him.” said Claire.

“We weren’t a couple though,” Jill said, “he was just my date. I didn’t realise what a dick he was when I asked him to come with me.”

“But that doesn’t make you ruining Joe’s birthday party any better.” pointed out Claire. Michael agreed.

“I thought we were talking about Georgia’s party?” asked Jill, trying to move the subject away from her actions that night with Bob/Rob/John.

“Yeah okay. Well Lucy said we could rent out Tillie’s if we wanted, she can get an extra discount if she picks up a few more shifts for like a week.” said Claire. Jill was unenthusiastic, and questioned whether Georgia would want to go all the way to Cambridge from Nottingham for her own birthday party.

“Actually, I think she’s going to Cambridge then anyway,” explained Claire with a knowing grin, “something about seeing someone important.”

3. Lucy

2011-12-04T19:18:00.001Z

At 1:30 the nextday, Lucy’s phone rang. As “Pocket Full of Sunshine” filled the room, threegroans emanated from the bed, the floor and – unusually – the wardrobe. Lucy resistedthe urge to kick the large pile of blankets on the floor that was concealing Steveas she made her way out of the room. Fully dressed, having already been awakefor a while, and without the colossal hangover that she knew her friends weresuffering from, Lucy answered the phone and went downstairs to seek out a quietspot.

“Hello?”

“Lucy?”

“That depends on who this is.”

“It’s Carter. Remember, fromyesterday?”

“Carter! Hi there, how was your Fridaynight?”

“Good thanks, how was yours? Did yourfriend get drunk?”

“Which one?” Lucy laughed, “They allgot absolutely smashed! I was the one serving them, so I know exactly how muchthey all drank!”

“You’re a bartender? Where?” Cartersounded impressed.

“Tipsy Tillie’s, down on the bridge onMill Lane.” Carter now sounded even more impressed, which Lucy didn’t begrudgehim. Tillie’s was a feat of engineering, built by extending the bridge acrossthe river so wide that it could fit the road, a pathway and a bar.Strategically placed, near the university sports and social club and the Millpub. The second pathway was on the other side meaning that there were twoqueues for entry. Parts of the floor were glass, so that you could see thewater below. It was one of the most popular bars in town, especially since itwas near more colleges than any other. What some bars struggled to make in amonth, Tillie’s made in a weekend.

“Wow, that place is incredible! Myfriends and I tried to get in there last week but the queue went all the way upMill Lane and it would have been shut by the time we got to the front.”

“I work alternate Fridays and Saturdaysthere. I’m not working tonight, so Neil will probably drag us to Revolution onDowning Street. What it is about chilli-flavoured vodka that excites him, Iwill never know.” Lucy poured herself a glass of milk and sat down on the sofa,taking advantage of the sitting room while all her housemates and friends were in drunken stupors.

“Well if you don’t want to go toRevolution, you could do something else.” Carter ventured, and Lucy hoped sheknew what he was hinting at.

“What else could I do that is worth mytime and attention?” she probed.

“Me, perhaps?”

Lucy spluttered and nearly spat out hermilk in surprise.

“I mean, not literally, just as in youcould come out with me instead. If you wanted to, I mean. It’s up to you. Youprobably don’t want to now. That came out completely wrong, I’m so sorry!”Carter was rambling. Lucy collected herself and laughed, “Carter, calm down! Iknow what you meant.” Carter breathed a sigh of relief and began to apologiseagain.

“Sorry, usually I’m a lot more awarethan that,” he explained.

“Don’t worry about it,” Lucy chuckled.

“I realise you probably don’t want togo out with me now. I’ll hang up and leave you alone forever. Sorry again.”

“Carter, wait! If I hadn’t wanted youto ask me out, why would I have given you my number yesterday?”

“Were you looking for a pen-pal,maybe?” Carter suggested.

“Well as much as I’m sure you’d be anexcellent pen-pal, I’d rather go on a date with you,” Lucy giggled, “I thinkthat sounds like more fun, don’t you?”

“Definitely.” Carter respondedimmediately, “I’ll pick you up at 6, then?”

“Sounds brilliant,” Lucy said.

“I’ll see you then, um, then! Bye!” andwith that, he rang off.

Just then, Lucyheard movement and turned to see Steve making a beeline – albeit a rather slow,pained beeline – for the kettle. Lucy sprang up and headed over to him. Havingbeen put in a good mood by Carter’s call, and being slightly stir-crazy (She’dbeen up since 11:30, amusing herself on Facebook while her friends remained comatose),she decided to speak rather more loudly to Steve than she needed to. She wasstill slightly angry at him for his antics at the bar last night, anyway.

“How’s the hangover?” she inquired.

“Sh,” Steve grunted, “coffee first.”

“I was thinking about making a fry-upto celebrate my sobriety,” Lucy informed him, “feel like some lovely, greasy,fried bacon and gooey eggs? Think of the lovely smell.” Steve groaned andlooked at her in what she assumed was his version of a malevolent glare.Funnily enough, it looked nothing like his sober glare. Her phone rang againand Steve moaned more loudly than possibly he needed to at the ringtone.

“Hello?”

“I don’t have your address.” Carter’svoice explained apologetically, “I was in such a rush to hang up because Ithought you might change your mind after my accidental outburst.” Lucy giggled,Steve looked up from where he was staring at the kettle, willing it to boilfaster and silently cursing whoever had last gone shopping for buying rubbishinstant coffee.

“Why on earth would I have changed mymind? I’m sure you’ll find a way to make up for your slip-up later,” sheflirted. The kettle boiled, Steve poured himself a mug and gulped the first sipof the drink that had saved his life (and his 2-1 average) more times than hecould count while listening to Lucy flirt and give her address to the caller.

“See you later, then?” Lucy was sayingby Steve’s second gulp. The other person replied and Lucy hung up. Stevegrumbled his way to the sofa, feeling slightly better but acting slightlyworse. Lucy sat beside him and looked at him expectantly. He said nothing andreached for the remote.

“Don’t you want to know who that was?”she asked after a while.

“Probably not.” Steve replied, “Was ityour pimp?”

“Yes, actually. He was asking whereyour mum had got to; she’s been skipping clients again,” Lucy countered. Stevelooked at her sarcastically.

“Go on then, tell me who it reallywas.”

“It was Carter. He rang up and we’regoing out tonight” Lucy burst out, clearly excited. Steve sipped his coffee,cringing at the poor quality.

“Who?” he asked.

“Carter!” Lucy repeated. Steve staredat her blankly. She sighed. “The rower from yesterday. The one who knew Neil.He’s picking me up at 6.”

“Oh, him. Good for you, then.” Steve wasunenthused. Lucy sighed again. Steve was hopeless when she wanted a reaction.Especially when he was hung-over. She would have to wait for Joe to wake up.Ironic, really, that he was still sleeping in her wardrobe.

2. Georgia

2011-11-07T16:48:00.002Z

Georgia glanced at the clock. 10:37. She turned away, delving into the conversation around her in order to try and distract herself from the clock. 10:38. Stop looking! She turned to listen to a joke and laughed politely even though she didn’t find it funny. 10:38. Still? Impossible! Stop looking at the clock! She decided to get up and get a drink. Sitting down, she repositioned herself so that she couldn’t see the clock any more. Despite that, she could feel the seconds dragging by, feel the impossibly slow ticking. She needed to look at the clock again, time must have passed by now. But she couldn’t look like she was looking, because that would seem like she wasn’t having fun and she was. At least, she would be if she wasn’t so eager to look at the clock. So she needed to do it subtly. Maybe she should stretch, then she could turn and make it seem like part of the stretch. But if she stretched, it would make everyone think she was tired or bored and stiff and they would get offended! Of course! She would whisper something in Tricia’s ear, turning around for secrecy and glancing at the clock!

This, though, presented the whole new problem of what to whisper to Tricia. Whispering something random would just be bizarre, so it would have to be relevant either to the conversation or to something the two of them had discussed earlier. What had they had that long discussion about earlier? Perhaps suddenly whispering something about which variety of milk was superior would be inadvisable. So it looked like Georgia would have to start paying attention to the conversation around her. She’d been trying to do that since the beginning, it was just that the clock was so important! Maybe now that listening was helping her reach the clock, it would be easier.

“… so I told him to shove it and I haven’t spoken to him since!” Mary was saying. Sad story, then? Georgia was trying to think of something relevant to whisper to Tricia when everyone started laughing. Oh, so it wasn’t sad. Ok, this time I’ll listen from the beginning.

“The exact same thing happened to me and Georgia last week, didn’t it Georgia?” said Toby. Georgia was thrilled, if she was involved in the story, she would finally realise what this conversation was about. “Was that last week?” she wondered, quite cunningly, “I had forgotten all about it!” Toby laughed and Georgia realised that she wouldn’t actually have forgotten. Darn it, she thought, listen more closely next time!

“Yeah right, Georgia. Of course you’ve forgotten about the cashier. Ugliest guy in the universe and he decides that our beauty queen here is good enough for him!” there was laughter from everyone else as Georgia remembered the incident at last.

“But then when I ‘politely declined’ he decided to come on to Toby instead!” she offered, causing raucous laughter from the whole table, “he said he was up for either!”

“As if that made him more appealing!” cried Toby, howling with laughter. Tricia turned and whispered in Georgia’s ear, “You didn’t tell me about this, Georgie!” Tricia hated to be left out of events, especially ones in Georgia’s life. Georgia saw her opportunity and took it; twisting round to whisper in Tricia’s ear while surreptitiously checking the clock.

“Sorry, Trish! It must have slipped my mind! You’re lucky you weren’t there, though; you’d have been totally freaked out!”

10:43.

Progress.

2. Claire

2011-11-07T16:48:00.000Z

This corner of the club smelt like the toilets, probably because it was next to them. Margaret looked up and scanned the crowd for what seemed like the four hundredth time that evening. Claire was nowhere in sight. She looked at her phone again, to see no new messages or calls. It was dingy and badly lit here, and the leather booth seats were beginning to crack apart, which made Margaret suspect that they weren’t really leather. In fact, they felt like plastic now that she really thought about it. If only it was lighter in here, she could really inspect them. Oh gosh, she thought, I’m inspecting a booth in a club. Where is Claire? Just then, a figure approached the booth. Margaret’s heart lifted as she called out, “About time!”

“Well I was trying to figure out if you were staring at me or not. I finally realised you must have been when I saw you trying not to seem obvious.”

“Sorry?” Margaret asked. The music was loud and the lighting was dark, but this person did not actually look or sound like Claire close up. In fact, the voice and stature were distinctly male.

“That’s okay,” said the mystery man, “It wouldn’t be the first time a girl has eyed me up. You look like you could use some company in this big, lonely booth of yours.” With that, the man sat down and sidled up to Margaret. He smelt of Tequila, misery and sweat and that was just his breath. The rest of him smelt like it had been dipped in a vat of cheap aftershave (though Margaret could unfortunately feel that no shave had happened recently) after having worked with marine life all day. His hair was a mousy brown colour, and absolutely covered in grease to create that ‘comb-tracks’ look that he seemed to think drove the ladies wild. Margaret could sense that this situation was soon to get a lot worse, so she was extraordinarily grateful when Claire arrived, scanning the booths at the back of the club for what had been described to her as THE WORST ONE IN HERE, BY THE LAV. SORRY! X. She had skipped over the booth Margaret was in as the club was too dark to make out facial features and there were two people there. Now, though, she noticed that one of those people was wearing the top she’d lent Margaret 3 weeks ago and looked very uncomfortable, being pawed by the man next to her.

“Excuse me,” she said, trying to channel Jill, Lucy and Georgia all into one attitude used to drive away strangers, “I think this is my booth.”

“Oh my apologies,” said the man, looking aggravated at having to disentangle himself from the girl who Claire could now confirm was a very awkward and uncomfortable Margaret, “We were just leaving anyway.”

“I don’t think she wants to go with you.” Claire was trying to muster up all her courage in order to free her trapped friend.

“And how would you know what she wants?”

“Margaret, are you going to go with him?” Claire asked. The man looked shocked at the realisation that the two girls knew each other. Margaret, crippled with fear at the prospect of going home with this creep, said nothing but instead slightly shook her head and whimpered. Claire knew that this was when she was supposed to call this greasy thing a whole host of swear words and then send him away with a witty put-down. That was what her friends would have done. But she settled instead for saying “Bye, then.” She was still trying to avoid making scenes in public after the whole debacle with Steve. With that, the man sloped off, probably to target some other poor, unsuspecting girl.

“Thank goodness for you,” Margaret gasped, “He just wouldn’t get off!”

“He looked like my great-uncle Willis when he was young. Nobody deserves Willis hanging off of them,” Claire explained. Margaret burst out laughing.

“I had an uncle like that! His name was Terry! He used to drive a white van and always offered me sweets!”

“Oh my gosh, really? Was he genuinely a paedophile?”

“No! He was just really strange!”

The two girls were in peals of laughter, each clinging to the other for support when someone else arrived at their table.

“Don’t tell me, let me guess,” said Clive, “something funny happened.” The girls jumped, they hadn’t seen Clive approaching as they were too wrapped up in their hysterics. Still laughing, they explained the incident with ‘Willis junior’ and their discovery of Margaret’s uncle’s dubious pastimes. Clive found what he understood amusing, but the girls were too far gone in their hysterics to make enough sense for him to join in their level of glee. Once they had contained their excitement enough for Clive to join them, they began to talk about the plans for the evening.

“It’s already 10 o’clock, what are we going to do once the club closes?” Margaret wondered. Claire thought hard about this, trying to find a solution.

“Are you seriously willing to stay here until the club closes? It’s rubbish here and once the pubs close, all the drunkards and morons come in – there’ll be ‘Willis juniors’ everywhere!” pointed out Clive.

“Clive, this is your club!” exclaimed Claire.

“Therefore, I am the only one who can truly tell the truth about it.” Clive countered with an air of an indignant parent. “Besides, it’s my dad’s club. It just so happens that it’s named after me in an attempt to win back my affections after a childhood of neglect.”

“Neglect? If that’s what you think neglect is, I wish my parents had been more neglectful of me!” declared Margaret.

“Having money doesn’t mean I had good parents, it just means I had a pool.”

“Oh you poor thing! However did you survive such hardship?” Margaret’s voice was dripping with sarcasm and Claire could hear scorn in her voice. Just once, she thought, could we have a Friday night where you two don’t butt heads over your childhoods? Margaret was from a broken home, and that’s all that anybody knew. In fact, she hadn’t even told Claire about her past, other than to say that it was terrible and that she didn’t want to talk about it. You don’t seem to mind bringing it up around Clive.

The argument was approaching unstoppable at this point, meaning that Claire had to step in. Two lots of confrontation in one night? This can’t be good for me.

“Guys! Be quiet! Please?”

The arguers looked stunned at the interruption. Then, seeing the look on Claire’s face (which she imagined must have been a mix of anger at the two of them for fighting and pain at the ordeal of having to break them up), they both looked down, silent.

2. Lucy

2011-11-07T16:47:00.000Z

Steve watched Lucy down the last of her frappucino. “How is it that you take so long to drink anything? I swear you must sip shots.”

“Steven Lewis, I do not sip shots. The very notion of such an idea is preposterous. You remember Greg’s drinking rules.”

“It used to take you an hour to finish a beer.”

“When I was 17, yes. If I had gone home wasted like you, my father would have had some sort of aneurysm.”

“You used to sleep at mine almost every week!”

“Fine, maybe it was just because I’m slow at drinking.”

“You don’t say!” Lucy burst out laughing. A laugh that Steve knew very well, and therefore he knew that it definitely wasn’t due to his comment.

“Which one is he?” Steve asked, looking around the café.

“Do you want to be less subtle about it?” Lucy hissed, still with a smile on her face. “If you must know, he’s the one by the other end of the counter, waiting for his drink. I think he’s one of the rowers from the other night.” Steve sighed. Lucy had a thing for rowers.

“So I take it you want me to make it obvious that we are not a couple, then? Or leave?”

“Well everyone seems to think we are at first glance. So, yes, please do. Don’t leave, though. Neil’s coming in a minute and then we’re going back to mine for free pizza before we go out.” Lucy said, switching from looking normally at Steve to glancing flirtatiously at her new rower crush. Steve sighed. “Here you go, then.” He said, punching her in the arm and ruffling her hair. “Too much?” he laughed, knowing that usually Lucy would scowl and retaliate.

“Just perfect, apparently!” Lucy smiled broadly as the rower came up to the table with his drink. “Please don’t stand up this time!” she whispered to Steve before the rower arrived, smile unwavering.

“Hi there,” came a deep, slightly croaky voice from what Steve saw, on turning around, to be a tall, muscular source the same age as him with brown-blonde hair just shorter than his. “Howdy,” said Steve, at which point Lucy kicked him under the table. “Hi,” she said to the rower.

“Sorry to intrude, I was just wondering if your name was as beautiful as you. Is this seat taken?” Lucy cringed inwardly at the line but blushed all the same. Steve stifled a laugh at her reaction. “No, go ahead,” he said, “the more the merrier.” This earned him another kick from Lucy, who smiled and laughed to the rower as if Steve was 5 years old. “I’m Lucy and that’s my friend Steve,” she explained to the new addition as he sat down, with the slightest emphasis on the word “friend”.

“I’m Carter,” he said, “it’s nice to meet you.”

“Your name is Carter?” asked Steve, earning himself another kick from Lucy under the table, “Really?”

“I know. I think it was my parents’ idea of a joke. My brother’s name is Lewis and my sister is Penelope. Clearly there was some sort of atrocious name theme intended.” Carter joked. Lucy gasped.

“Steve’s last name is Lewis,” she said, “I think it’s a brilliant name. They’re all brilliant names, actually. At least you won’t find many people with the same ones; Lucy is as common as dirt.”

“I think it’s beautiful. Though it certainly isn’t as beautiful as the rest of you.” Steve stifled another laugh. Lucy blushed again. Steve wondered if she could control her blushes because if anyone else had tried to say that to her, she’d have burst out laughing and pushed them in the shoulder before calling them a corny cheese-ball and walking away if they were trying to pick her up. Maybe this guy was special, though Steve didn’t think much of him thus far. He was too conceited and his accent made him sound like he was dropped straight into Eton when he was a baby and looked after by the prefects.

The door to the café opened and Neil walked in. Steve grinned; Neil would send this clown packing. He almost definitely knew him unless Carter wasn’t actually a rower (or at least not a very good one). Neil was the captain of the first rowing team. Or whatever it was called in rowing. Essentially, it meant that Neil was the best rower at the university. He was going to the Olympics next year for Britain and he and his crew had won all sorts of races and regattas. That meant that he was invaluable to the university and therefore could pretty much do whatever he wanted. Originally, Steve had hated him because he was privileged, smart, handsome and a rower. But Lucy had insisted that they get on because she was going out with him for 10 months last year, so get on they did and now Neil was as invaluable to Steve as he was to the university.

“Alright, kids? What’s occurring?” Lucy jumped as Neil snuck up behind her and slammed his hands down on her shoulders.

“Neil!” she cried, ecstatic to see him. She leapt up and threw her arms around him while he lifted her clear off of the ground in a bear-hug. “You’re late. I said 5 and it’s now 5.03!” she said, looking at her watch, another new one after she’d broken her last one bartending again.

“Well I do beg your forgiveness, I was otherwise engaged.” Lucy stuck her tongue out at him, not wanting to hear more, partly because he was her ex and partly because they were now too close to want to hear details – they both felt it would be like sharing with a sibling. “Hey, Steve, I brought you that game I promised you’d become obsessed with.” Steve, who had never been particularly interested in computer games, scowled.

“I play it once and then you never mention it again, agreed?”

“Unless you become obsessed with it, which you will.” Neil pointed out. They were all sitting at the table now, which had originally been intended for only 2 people and so was becoming quite cramped by this point, not that Lucy minded. That only meant that she was forced to sit closer to Carter, who had become slightly star struck at the entrance of Neil.

“Hey, it’s Carter, right? Sorry, I’m terrible at names.”

“Yes, Carter. Neil, yeah? Good to see you again.”

“How’s training going for you lot? Ready for the arrival of the yanks? Henley’s not far away.” Steve looked at Lucy. She was clearly elated at the realisation that Carter was a good enough rower to be recognised by Neil. In fact, she was elated. Not just because she understood what the two rowers were discussing, about Henley Regatta (and now she knew that Carter was actually a good rower) but because Carter had locked his leg with hers under the table.

“Neil! No rowing at the dinner table.” Steve cried after the subject had continued for a while, exasperated. Lucy and Neil laughed and Carter looked confused. Good, Steve thought, now you know you aren’t part of this. I hate rowers. He stood up, “I’m starving. Free pizza at yours, Luce?”

“Same here, I could eat a house and a half,” agreed Neil. “Shall we be off then?” Lucy cocked an eyebrow, amused. “You two are the hungriest people I’ve ever met.” She laughed and stood up as well. “It was nice to meet you, Carter.”

“You too, Lucy. We should do it again. Alone.” He whispered the last word into her ear, his deep, husky voice filling her with pleasure. She reached into her bag and pulled out a pen.

“Here you go, then.” She wrote her number on his arm. She could have used a napkin from the middle of the table but she wanted to feel the muscles under the golden skin. She looked again at his sandy hair, just the right length to run fingers through, and his face, with its clearly defined features and full lips, not to mention eyes which were a piercing blue-green. What was it about green-tinged eyes that made a person so much more attractive? Lucy knew only a handful of people with green eyes, but she didn’t find any of them as enticing as Carter’s. “Call me tomorrow.”

“Not before noon, though, because she will be hung-over.” Steve added. Lucy shot him a look and they left with Neil, turning left away from the bus stop out of habit.

“I’m working tonight, not drinking.”

“Well in that case, I’ll be drinking more than everyone.”

“No discounts, friends don’t count as family.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t mind being around you when you’re sober.”

“Could have fooled me.”

“Children, please,” Neil interjected, “the important thing is that I do not remain sober after midnight. Training’s cancelled tomorrow.”

“Lucky you, then,” Lucy said, “but you still have an essay to write for Norton. Due on Monday, 5 pages, remember?”

“Ha-ha.” Steve mocked, “You two have to write essays on people you don’t actually like. All I have to do for next week is mix a bunch of stuff together and not blow my room up.”

“Easier said than done, for you.”

“Shut up, I’m top of my class.”

“Only because you blew the rest of your class up, I bet.” Alleged Neil with a cheeky grin, showing how proud he was of his comment. Lucy burst out laughing so hard that she forgot to dodge the hole in the pavement and tripped. This, in turn, made the boys laugh hysterically. When they realised that Lucy was genuinely hurt, they stopped momentarily. The laughing resumed, though, when Neil was forced (as the largest and strongest) to carry her back to the house so as not to further damage her twisted ankle. Seeing Neil lift Lucy up as if she were a baby in swaddling clothes, Steve lost it again and spent the whole walk back to Lucy’s doubled over giggling.

1. Georgia

2011-11-07T16:44:00.002Z

In Leicester, Georgia was on the phone as well. This, though, was a far more unusual phone call. Tricia was getting concerned because she couldn’t hear any noise coming from Georgia’s room and she had said the call was from Cambridge. Usually that meant Georgia would be on the phone to the famous Lucy or possibly even Steve. If it was one of those two, Georgia’s half of the conversation would be audible throughout the house, full of laughter and squeals and other noises that made Georgia sound like she was still 10 years old. Tricia decided to check on her housemate. Not because she was nosey, she was merely concerned. She knocked on the door.

“Georgie? You alright?”

There was a silence. Then, the door unlocked and Georgia poked her head out. She looked relieved when she saw Tricia’s face. “Yeah everything’s fine, Trish. I’ll be out in a minute and we can go round to Joel’s, ok?”

“Ok, I’ll go and find my shoes. I’ve been looking for them all day, they aren’t in here, are they?” Tricia tried to peer round the door for any sort fo clue about who Georgia was talking to.

“Nope, haven’t seen them. Try Mary’s room, she always borrows your shoes.” The door closed and Tricia bent down to listen. She could hear Georgia whispering, “I have to go now, Tricia got suspicious … You hang up first … Ok both together, ready? Go … Well you didn’t either!” Tricia sneezed and there was a silence from the bedroom. She could hear Georgia getting up, so Tricia got out of there as quietly and quickly as she could. Now there’s an illicit romance if I’ve ever heard one, she thought.

1. Claire

2011-11-07T16:44:00.000Z

Jill was being irritating again. Claire had about had enough of her incessant chatter and bitching. She needed to be saved but she couldn't get Lucy to ring her because Lucy was out. It was strange that Lucy hadn't specified where she was going, usually she did because Claire had spent so much time in Cambridge that she knew it better there than in Leeds. Then again... Cogs were turning in Claire's mind. Obviously Lucy must be with Steve, he was at Cambridge too and they always had coffee on Fridays before going home to get ready for the evening. Claire used to be there with them and Neil, she loved Cambridge Friday nights. Smart people knew how to ‘cut loose,’ as her dad kept saying.

“Claire, are you even listening?” Jill sounded exasperated. No, Claire thought, my attention wandered when I realised that nobody cares as much as you do about anything you say. 8 years ago. She wished she was confrontational enough to say it out loud, or at least make some indication that she wanted the conversation to end. She knew that Steve had made her less confrontational and eager to avoid any friction with anyone. The problems between the two of them had made Jill think that she and Claire were kindred spirits, ‘two souls drawn together and bonded for life over heartache caused by the same person,’ she insisted.

“Sorry, my mind wandered for a moment. Go on.”

“Never mind, Hun. I've got a rehearsal I need to go and get ready for! I'll see you at Clive's later, yeah?”

“’Course.”

“Awesome! Toodles chiquitita! Lol!” She left in a flourish, leaving Claire to wonder why a 20-year-old was still saying 'lol' as if it was a real word. Claire got out her phone. J JUST LEFT FOR REHEARSAL. NEED SANE HUMAN TO TALK TO. X. The reply, as always, was almost instantaneous, Y U TEXTING ME THEN? X. Claire's phone rang.

“Because all the sane people were busy.” She said.

“Well that's not very nice. I might hang up now.”

“You won't, though.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you're in love with me.”

“Oh yeah. Darn, foiled again!” Claire laughed. Michael wasn’t actually in love with her, everyone knew who he was in love with. Except the girl herself. Lucy was plenty observant (they were complete opposites in that way) but only about other people, never herself. It amused her friends endlessly that she consistently failed to notice obvious things about herself when she picked up on them instantly in others. Michael had been in love with Lucy for 2 years now, but he was too chicken to do anything about it, despite constantly being told to. That was just his way.

“So what are you doing? Putting on your make-up for a big night out?” Claire asked. Michael laughed, he made fun of himself more than anyone else.

“Yeah, course. Just wondering if I could borrow some eye shadow, actually. You know what it’s like here in Warwick – party, party, party!” They both laughed. Claire was happier already, Michael had that effect on people just by being him.

“Well I have a wonderful new purple you could try.”

“Doesn’t that make it look like you’ve been punched?”

“Not if you use it correctly. But you’ll have to come up here to Leeds to get it from me.” Michael sighed. “I wish I could. Even if it means spending the night getting my ears chewed off by Jill. How do you cope with living with her?” Claire often wondered that herself. The truth was that it wasn’t that bad living with Jill, because they had different timetables and separate friends. When they did in fact end up spending time together, though, Jill was really full-on. That was partly what attracted so many boys to her, the fact that she was gorgeous and fed on attention like a light bulb, getting louder and more flirtatious with every admirer (and every drink).

“Jill’s not that bad once you get to know her. Then again, I might be lying and she’s worse when you get to know her.”

“You’ve known her for what, 9 years now? I’ve known her for 4 and it’s already too many.”

“Sue seems to like her.”

“That’s because they are essentially the same person.”

“You’ve been paying attention. You sound like Lucy, though.”

“Lucy makes a lot of sense, she’s a clever girl.”

“Oh is that why she’s at Cambridge then?”

“Nah, she got in there on looks and charm.”

“Michael Brown! Was that sarcasm?!” Claire realised that Michael had spoken to Lucy recently. It was easy to tell because he started to pick up her habits and sound like her. “So where’s Lucy today?” There was an awkward pause on the other line.

“She’s out, she said.”

“With who?”

“Dunno.”

“So she’s out with Steve, isn’t she? Did she tell you not to tell me? You could have at least made up a lie.”

“I have to go now; I’ll speak to you later. Have a fun night out with Jill and everyone else. Bye!” Michael hung up before Claire could say anything else.

1. Lucy

2011-11-07T16:43:00.000Z

“So how's...” Steve trailed off. Lucy had cocked an eyebrow at him. She knew this made her look even more unusual but it was the best way she had to make her unspoken points. Steve got the message every time, because he was observant like that and they'd both lived through 4 years of being told by countless friends (even while in separate relationships) that they would 'make the perfect couple' time and again since they’d first become friends.

“...the essay coming?” Steve finished, changing his question to avoid forcing Lucy into a confrontation. Lucy lowered her eyebrow and frowned before laughing.

“The same as anything I write on Thatcher. Slowly. Thatcher is, well... Yeah. She’s just Thatcher, isn’t she?”

“Eloquent as always, kiddo.”

“Shut up. My brain stopped functioning on about the 3rd page of my essay. Thatcher is her own adjective. Suck it.” Steve laughed. The two were able to predict each other’s every reaction, admittedly something Lucy could do to most of her friends. Steve, on the other hand, was not so good at it.

“So if you're not fully functioning mentally, surely you wouldn't mind me asking about-”

“I mind. You know I mind. She doesn't even know I'm seeing you today, I told her I was going out, though, and so she's probably made the connection. Usually I specify since she knows where everything is here. It isn't like it’s a massive town like London. She doesn’t know where anything is in London. You know what she's-”

“Lucy.”

“The point is that I am not talking to you about her.”

“Why not?” Steve hoped he didn't already know the answer.

“She specifically told me not to. You know Jill and co have been telling me not to even speak to you anymore.” Steve looked at Lucy sarcastically. “Jill hasn't wanted you to speak to me since I dumped her. And that was years ago.” He pointed out. Lucy sighed, “You really need to stop going out with my mates. It’s hazardous to my mental health.”

“It’s only been three of them!” Again, Lucy raised her eyebrow. Steve wasn’t sure why, but he felt the urge to burst out laughing every time she did that, as did everyone else. It wasn't that they couldn’t take her seriously; they knew what the eyebrow meant at all times and almost always did what it told them to. But the way that such a serious, subtle expression looked so out of place on her face was enough to make anyone laugh.

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