6. Casey, London

The workday has finally ended and I've been looking forward to a bevvy with Jaz all week. I lock the gallery doors and cross the narrow street to the pub opposite. A light mist of rain falls, and despite the warm weather earlier in the week, the air carries a damp chill that signals summer will soon be gone. The wet tables outside are empty but inside it's crowded and noisy with an end-of-work-week buzz. In the far corner I spot Jaz's tight, black curls. She sticks her hand up then points to a full pint on the table in a ‘I've got you sorted' way.

‘Alll riiight,' she drawls as I reach her. Her dark eyes are framed by black liner, her lashes thick with mascara and her brown cheeks shimmer with a glittery blush.

‘All right, Jazzy Jaz.' I take the seat opposite. ‘You're all dolled up.'

She pouts, the overhead lighting making her glossy lips shine, and gives her curls a bounce. ‘I like to look good on a Friday night.' She gestures to the glass in front of me with an upward nod. ‘You sounded stressed, so I got your pint in.'

‘Cheers, mate.' The crisp, cool ale slides down my throat as I take a slow sip. ‘Ah.' I place the glass down and slump against the back of the chair. ‘I needed that. This week has been so fucked.'

Jaz shakes her head, her dangly gold hoop earrings swinging from side to side. ‘You need to stop letting Eva run your life.'

‘She's not.'

‘She is. And you let her because…' Jaz leans forward, her eyes sparkly and mischievous. ‘You're whipped by the pus-say.'

I screw up my face. ‘What? Don't do that.'

She grins. ‘Do what?'

‘Say "pus-say" like you're some geezer from an eighties porno.'

She laughs, loud and unapologetic. ‘I'm totally an eighties porno geezer.'

I laugh too, not because it's particularly funny, but because her laughter is infectious. Even the people at the next table look at us and chuckle. ‘That you are,' I say. ‘And I'm not whipped by anyone's vulva.'

Jaz shudders. ‘Ugh. I hate that word. Sounds like you're about to jump in and go for a drive in the countryside. At least say vag.'

I smile. ‘Okay, I'm not whipped by Eva's vag. It's just the wedding. There's a lot to do.'

‘Fuck, mate. You still haven't told her you don't want to get married?'

‘I can't. She'll be devastated if I call it off. She's like, really into it, excited about her dress, spent heaps of money.'

‘You mean Mummy and Daddy have spent heaps of money.'

It's true that Eva's parents are paying for the wedding. I tried to dissuade them – Eva and I can afford a nice enough wedding – but they insisted. I shrug. ‘That's what they want.'

‘Still, I don't think they'll be too pleased when you get divorced in a year's time.'

I sip my pint. ‘You're such a sceptic,' I say.

A waitperson appears and places a large basket of chips and a silver pot filled with tomato sauce in the middle of our table.

‘Cheers,' Jaz says. She dips a chip and points it at me, a blob of sauce landing on the wooden table. ‘I'm a realist. And you're not in love. Divorce is inevitable.'

I reach across and wipe up her sauce mess with a napkin. ‘I love her and getting married is important to her, so what's the problem?' I shove a few chips into my mouth and wait for the latest reason I shouldn't marry Eva.

‘Yeah, you love her. That's different to being in love. And the problem is you're giving up the chance of being truly happy, finding the one.'

I ignore her and go in for more chips. Jaz's eyes flit behind me and I turn to see a curvaceous body saunter past, accompanied by a flirty smile Jaz's way.

‘They're probably my soul mate,' Jaz says, leaning towards me so I can hear her low voice over the crowd.

I wash down the chips with a gulp of ale. ‘You'll have about ten soul mates tonight.'

Jaz laughs and picks up her glass. ‘Totally. See what you're missing?'

‘I'm not missing anything.' But as I say it an emptiness expands in my chest and I have the overwhelming sense that I am, in fact, missing something.

Jaz frowns and considers me a moment, no doubt picking up on the dip in my mood. She's intuitive like that. Although she's often brash and blunt, underneath is a soft centre filled with loyalty, and she just wants what's best for me.

‘You know I love you and I'll be there no matter what,' she says. ‘It just makes me sad because I don't think you're right for each other, and inside there' – she points to my heart – ‘I think you know that, too.'

But I don't know that, not for certain. ‘Why aren't we right?' My words sound defensive when I meant for them to be curious. I change my tone. ‘Seriously, why aren't we?'

Jaz shovels in more chips and narrows her eyes at me as she chews. She takes a sip of wine, calmly places her glass on the table and her mouth curves into a wicked grin. ‘Because she's not her.'

I groan and roll my eyes. ‘You bangin' on about that again?'

A group by the bar become animated and Jaz raises her voice. ‘Yeah, because you're getting married when you don't want to, and you've been in love with someone else for the past however long.'

I scrunch my face like it's the most ludicrous thing I've ever heard. ‘Haven't.'

‘Have.'

I shake my head and drink.

‘Look me straight in the eye and tell me you haven't thought more about that Australian bird now that you're getting married.'

I dip a few chips into the sauce. ‘Haven't thought about her in ages.'

‘You're not looking at me.'

I jam them into my mouth and look her dead in the eyes.

‘Now say it.'

‘Eating,' I mumble.

She slaps the table. ‘Ha. I fucking knew it.'

It's pointless trying to get one past her. I give a defeatist shrug. ‘Course I've thought about her more. Getting married is scary, innit? It's like, bringing shit up.'

‘You need to search for her harder online. Put your mind at ease. You'll never settle until you know what happened to her.'

‘I've looked, mate. There are loads of Hollys in Melbourne and none I recognise. That's even if she's still in Melbourne, and I've no idea if I'd recognise her now anyway.' But that isn't entirely true because the vision of her has never left me. The Berlin summer sun highlighting the honey tones of her hair. Sharp blue-grey eyes, curious and intelligent. The tiny mole to the right of her nose. The freckle on her bottom lip. God, those lips – soft and sweet and delicious…

Jaz snaps her fingers in my face. ‘Hello,' she singsongs. ‘Where have you gone?'

I blink. ‘Sorry. Just thinking.'

Jaz smiles slyly. ‘About Holly?'

I shrug and take the last mouthful of my pint.

Jaz swirls a chip around the sauce pot. ‘You think she's looked for you?'

I frown. ‘Doubt it. Never told her much about myself and I gave her your last name. We had each other's German phone numbers and that was it.'

Jaz shakes her head. ‘For someone so smart, you're really fucking stupid sometimes.'

‘Give me a break. I was twenty and hadn't felt anything like that before. Didn't know how to handle it.'

‘You're still fucking stupid when it comes to women.'

‘I'm a Gemini; we avoid shit.'

Jaz rolls her eyes. ‘You need to go back to Berlin.'

I throw my head back and let out a frustrated groan. This is why I didn't message her as soon as Josanne left my office. ‘That's not going to help me find her.'

‘Maybe she's there? Maybe she's been there this whole time, waiting for you.'

I raise my brows. ‘What fairytale land do you live in?'

Jaz watches another curvy body stroll by and flashes a flirtatious smile. ‘Queer fairytale land. And it is fab-u-lous.'

I laugh and reach across the table for a sip of her wine, since she got herself two drinks.

‘Isn't the date coming up?' Jaz asks.

‘What date?' I say, feigning ignorance.

‘Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. The date. You have to go to that park.'

‘And you say I'm stupid? You think she's going to be sitting in a park waiting for me eleven years later?'

Jaz shrugs. ‘Stranger things have happened. And last time you did that, it helped you sort what to do about whatshername – that one you dumped when you were there.'

‘Bethany. And don't remind me; I still feel guilty about that.'

‘Aren't you going to Berlin in a couple of weeks for the opening of the new exhibition anyway? You're head of exhibitions, go earlier.'

I sigh, knowing I can't keep it from her any longer. ‘Josanne wants me to do that. Sick staff and Felix can't manage everything on his own.'

‘No way!'

I frown. ‘I don't think I want to go. I'm a bit stressed, with work and Eva. I'm confused about everything. Stick me in Berlin at this time of year … it's a bit much, know what I mean? I'm worried I'll get there and something weird will come over me. I don't want to hurt Eva.'

Jaz gives a sympathetic smile that also tells me she knows to back off, although it won't last long. ‘Yeah. I don't want you to hurt her either. I'm just messin' with you. Do what's right for you.' She necks her wine. ‘Let's go to a queer bar. It's too straight in here.'

‘Too straight? You've just eye-fucked two women.'

‘I need more than an eye-fuck, mate.'

‘How about I leave you to it and go home?'

‘No!' she says. ‘I need you to pull the femmes for me.' She waggles her eyebrows. ‘You know how much I love the femmes.'

I grin. ‘I do.'

‘Femmes love you. They don't go for me; I'm too pretty. I need you to reel them in with' – she waves her hand in my direction – ‘this thing you got going on and those eyes – they love them eyes, mate. Then I snag 'em with my prettiness and patter, yeah?'

I can't help but laugh. ‘Okay. Whatever makes you happy. Let's go before I change my mind.'

We weave through the pub crowd and head outside. The rain has eased and the grey sky from earlier has darkened. I zip up my jacket as we turn into Brewer Street, busy with Friday night revellers. A couple of women pass and one of them shamelessly runs her eyes over me before flashing me a coy smile.

I nod politely in return, and Jaz nudges me with her hip. ‘That's what I'm talking about. I need you to help me get the pus-say.'

I tsk. ‘Goodness gracious me.'

Jaz freezes on the footpath outside the bar we're about to enter, her mouth dropping open. ‘I'm sorry, did you just tsk me and say "goodness gracious me"?'

I press my lips together to suppress the smile and wait for the bollocking coming my way.

‘For fuck's sake, man,' Jaz says, fists on hips. ‘Eva is sucking the life out of you.' She prods my chest. ‘You get to your ma and da's this weekend and get some bad fucking language back in that vocab, yeah?' She pushes me towards the bar entrance. ‘Now stop being a posh cunt and get your round in.'

I laugh, fling my arm around her neck and kiss her temple. ‘Oh, Jazzy. What would I do without you keeping me real?'

‘Get off,' she says, cackling. ‘I'm not going to pull with you hanging off me.'

Inside it's busy and dark. We push through to the bar and I raise my voice to be heard over the music. ‘A pint of pale ale and…' I turn to Jaz. ‘What do you want?'

‘A glass of white wine.' She steps onto the footrest and leans over the bar. ‘Make it an Australian wine.' She gives me some side-eye. ‘I'm in the mood for a bit of Australian.'

The barperson tends to our drinks and I narrow my eyes at Jaz. ‘Give it a rest.'

Jaz smirks and moves her hips to the music, scanning the crowd. ‘Oh yeah, I'm definitely finding my soul mate in here. I've got a big night feeling.' She looks down at my feet. ‘I hope you've got your dancin' shoes on.'

My limbs start to loosen, the week's stress dissolving, the beat of the music working in rhythm with my body. ‘I have, mate. I have.'

For the next couple of hours, we dance, talk shite, drink and flirt – with other people, not each other. Jaz takes her flirting to the next level, but I keep mine light, innocent and fun.

I'm chatting to a couple when Jaz detaches herself from the woman she's snogging and yells in my ear, ‘Toilets'. She grabs my hand and drags me to the bathroom, where she pulls me into a cubicle and slides the lock across.

I glance at the lock and then at her. ‘No, Jazzy. No.'

She reaches into her bra, pulls out a small plastic sleeve and waves it. ‘Go on,' she whispers. ‘Just a little bit.'

‘We're too old for that shit, and I'll feel like crap tomorrow.'

‘Too old? What are you on? We're thirty-one, and it's my birthday.'

‘It was your birthday three weeks ago.'

‘Yeah, and this is left over from my birthday, innit? You weren't too old then to get stuck into it. Besides, this is quality – no drug hangover.'

I grimace. ‘I've got things to do this weekend.'

Jaz reaches into her bag and pulls out a tiny compact mirror and a ten-pound note. ‘Like what? More wedding stuff? Eva's family stuff?'

‘I've got to find a wedding outfit, remember?'

‘For fuck's sake, Casey. Again, she's sucking the life out of you.'

‘Not wanting to snort coke in a toilet cubicle in a Soho bar hardly means Eva's sucking the life out of me.'

Jaz grins. ‘You know what I mean.' She opens the compact, places it on the cistern and sprinkles on the white powder. Using a credit card, she separates the small mound into two fat lines.

I gaze at it longingly. It has been a hell of a week. I deserve to relax and to forget about weddings and work and Berlin romances from years ago.

Jaz offers the rolled-up tenner and raises a questioning brow.

‘Go on, then,' I say, taking it. ‘One line and that's it. Maybe two.'

I step around to the other side of the toilet and bend over the cistern. Closing one nostril, I hold the tenner to the other and run it along the line, quickly inhaling. The chemical taste hits the back of my throat within seconds. I pass the note to Jaz, who turns it around and does the same. She cuts another two lines, which we quickly snort before dabbing our fingers on the mirror for every last grain to rub along our gums.

‘Just takes the edge off,' Jaz says.

‘Totally,' I say. A gentle buzz floats through my body and I'm already looking forward to it peaking and more later.

We head back to the bar where Jazzy orders us rum with orange, and we push our way through the crowd until we're in the middle of the dancefloor. My rush is heightened by the drum and bass pulsing through me. I close my eyes and let myself go.

I have no idea how long I'm dancing alone, because by the time I open my eyes, I'm off to the side, Jaz is sexy dancing with the woman she was snogging earlier, and a pretty blonde is headed straight for me. I neck my rum and place the empty glass on the narrow ledge just in time for her to thrust a glass at me. I take a sip. It's rum and orange and I lift my brows in surprise.

She leans in close, breath warm on my ear. ‘I saw you at the bar and asked what you'd ordered.'

I give her a slow smile. She reminds me of another pretty blonde I spent half the night talking about and that's enough to keep me welded to the spot. We chat for a bit – her name is Emily and she's a vet nurse. We finish our drinks and I buy another round. We flirt and I don't step away when her hand rests against my hip. When she goes to the bathroom, my pocket vibrates, and I pull my phone out to find a message from Eva.

Missed you tonight. Sorry I've been so caught up in wedding stuff lately and haven't had time for us. I'll make it up to you. Home now and going to bed. Love you xx

What am I doing? Am I so tormented by Holly's memory that I'm imagining the vet nurse is her?

Jaz dances up beside me. ‘You all right, mate?'

I stare at her, the coke peaking proper now.

‘You're looking a little cosy with that bird, so I thought you might want to get home?'

I hold up my phone. ‘That was Eva. What was I doing? If she hadn't messaged me?—'

Jaz puts her hand up to stop me. ‘I've been keeping an eye on you. You were just talking, and I would've stopped anything else, but time for you to go now, yeah?'

I nod. ‘Chat to you tomorrow.'

Outside, my clammy skin and lungs welcome the cool air. I hail the black cab moving towards me and jump in. The quiet, dark cabin helps regulate my breathing, but my body feels disjointed. Waist down, I'm buzzing, like I could take on anything, but my brain is scrambled about what just happened, and my chest is hollow about what it all means.