24. Twenty-Four

Twenty-Four

W hoops of laughter can be heard from inside the taxi before I even open the foyer door. As I cross the road, the door of the taxi slides open, and the raucous laughter spills out onto the pavement.

Lucy waves a hand through the door. "Come on, Soph."

I launch myself into the back of the black people carrier onto one of the fold-down seats and slide the door closed. Lucy is on the back seat, dressed in a white and black burlesque costume with a pink, glittery "Bride To Be" sash draped around her chest. A short, white veil completes the look. Curls cascade around her shoulders and the rosy flush to her cheeks tells me she's already been drinking.

"Sophie Ward, long time no see!" Sarah, Lucy's older sister, cries from beside her. She, and the other woman perched on the seat beside me, whom I've never met before, are all dressed in the same outfits. The only difference being Sarah's costume pulls a little tighter around her ample bosom. Lucy shares the same blonde hair and blue eyes as her sister, but Sarah is even louder, if that's at all possible.

"Hi Sarah," I smile.

"This is Claire." She points to the other woman with long straight auburn hair, green eyes, and freckles.

Claire's already got a faraway look in her eye and as she goes to say hello, hiccups instead and slaps her hands to her mouth.

"She's already had one too many white wine spritzers," Sarah giggles. "She's such a lightweight."

"I am," Claire replies in a small, high-pitched voice.

"So, you've all been drinking already?" I ask, knowing I should have opened the wine when I got home from work.

Lucy gives me a reassuring look. "Don't worry, Soph. You can make up for it when we get to Bar Rumba and meet up with the others."

Knowing Lucy, she'll make sure of it.

Two hours later, the head start the others had is taking its toll. Five different bars, countless glasses of wine and dodgy-coloured spirits served in shot glasses see us losing members of the hen-do along the way, and Sarah and her auburn-haired friend flagging.

Lucy and I weave past the lines of revellers queuing to gain entrance to the different bars and clubs dotted along the high street with Sarah and Claire tagging behind, leaning against one another for support.

I'm currently at the right level of tipsy, which is where I want to stay because I feel an overwhelming pressure to be sensible and ensure Lucy returns home safely this evening. She and Mark have had their problems and I don't want to add to them.

"Lucy, where are we going?" I grumble. "My feet are starting to hurt."

"I want to go somewhere different. Try somewhere new," she announces, still surprisingly chipper given how much she's had to drink. We walk past another queue of people, and she casts them a disparaging look. "And I'm not queuing. "

She pauses and looks over her shoulder at Sarah and Claire. "Keep up, you two." As she turns back round, something catches her attention and her eyes light up. "Come on, we're going in there."

I frown and slowly follow her down the dimly-lit side street, concentrating on the cobble stones beneath my feet and keeping upright. I've never been down here before and not quite sure where she's leading us. I cast a glance ahead to see a set of black, wooden doors in the wall, illuminated by a streetlight. A black sign, backlit with white lights and "Dark Desires" in gold, bold letters hangs above the doorway. The unpleasant realisation hits me.

"Lucy, we can't go in there. It's a strip club," I hiss.

"Oh, come. It'll be a laugh," she calls over her shoulders. "And best of all, we haven't got to queue."

"What about Sarah and Claire?" I say, trying to keep up with her.

Lucy waves a hand dismissively. "Oh, they'll catch up."

She marches ahead like some tour guide and I know I might as well go along with it because there's no changing her mind now. One drink, then we're going, I tell myself.

"Well, hello, beefcake," Lucy purrs, coming to a halt outside the set of double doors at the entrance.

I blink through the yellow hue of the streetlight and for a moment think I'm seeing things. "Big Steve?"

He raises his eyebrows in surprise as he gives us a long look up and down. "Sophie, what are you doing here?"

"It's her hen-do," I blurt, aware of what he must be thinking of our outfits. I peer up at the sign overhead and frown. "You work here as well, then?"

"Hen-do, schmen-do," Lucy interrupts. "How's Big Stevie?" She runs her fingers down his right bicep, hidden beneath his black suit jacket.

"I'm sorry, she's a bit drunk," I apologise.

Lucy throws me a hurt look. "Am not!"

The edge of gruffness to Big Steve dissolves as his blue eyes shine in amusement at my friend. "Erm… yeah, on the door. "

It figures. I guessed he could be a boxer or a bouncer when I first met him.

He shoots me a worried look. "Does Art know you're here?"

"No."

"Not bloody likely," Lucy announces before I can ask what it's got to do with him. "She's mine for tonight. Now can we come in or what?"

Big Steve rubs a hand across his bald head and looks at me for a long moment. For a second, he hesitates then steps aside to let us through. "I can't stop you."

He can't. And if he did, I'd want to know why.