‘So this is your little apartment?’ she asked.
‘Mine and Brigit’s.’ I smiled graciously.
‘Two of you live here?’ She sounded astonished.
I didn’t mind. I felt fantastic and nothing could upset me.
‘What’s this I hear about you getting off with one of those heavy-metaller boys?’ Helenka asked.
‘Me? Get off with one of them?’ I barked with forced laughter.
‘Yes, Jessica said she saw you at the Rickshaw Rooms practically having sex with him.’
Jessica was Helenka’s right-hand woman. She wasn’t as beautiful or as well-dressed or as gainfully employed or as well-connected as Helenka. The one area in which she held her own was the character-assassination one.
I cringed as I wondered what she’d said.
‘Did, er, she?’ was all I could come up with.
‘I’ve always kind of thought one of those boys was sexy in a mad, animal kind of way,’ Helenka said thoughtfully. ‘You know?’ She turned her emerald stare on me. She’s just wearing green contact lenses, I told myself, as I tried to stop myself quivering in awe of her beauty.
‘Luke,’ she said. ‘That’s the one. He’s got a great bod on him.’
‘Actually,’ I said, tripping over myself with pride, ‘Luke was the one I got off with.’
‘Or maybe it was Shake,’ she said absently. ‘Either way I’d never actually do anything about it.’
She gave me a scathing look and moved away. It looked as if I hadn’t made much progress on my project of being Helenka’s best friend.
As I stood by the door, I thought I must surely be imagining it when I saw a big, heavy, booted foot appear around the landing. Followed by nine more of them.
Five giants marched towards me, be-denimed and hairy; bedecked and bestrewn with six-packs – the Real Men had arrived.
Who had invited them? How had they known? I was ruined.
Paralysed by panic, there was a split-second when I could have slammed the door shut and denied all knowledge of any party but Joey had already made eye-contact.
‘Get up the yard, yeh girl, yeh!’ he greeted me.
What the hell, I thought. I felt invincible. Strong, dazzling, confident. Able to meet any challenges head-on. I could survive this heavy-metal lowering of the tone.
In they trooped, acting as if they had every right to be there. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Brigit’s appalled face look from Joey to Carlos, then back to Joey again. She seemed to be trying not to scream.
As I politely greeted the boys, Helenka stared at me with her Wicked Stepmother look. I flushed but kept my head high. I was not afraid.
Luke was the last one in. ‘Howya.’ He grinned. ‘How are you?’
Jesus, I thought, my loins instantly afire, he’s looking well.
‘Hello,’ I purred, holding his gaze for what seemed like a day and a half.
Had he done something to himself? I wondered in a daze. Because, surely he was never that good-looking before? A head transplant, maybe? Perhaps he got the loan of Gabriel Byrne’s face for the evening?
I found I had stood up straight and had thrust my chest at him, saucy-temptress-fashion. My nipples had gone hard just from looking at him.
‘I’m sorry I didn’t want to go out with you,’ I said brazenly.
I would never have broached the subject if I hadn’t had a couple of lines. But I had and I felt compassionate and bountiful.
‘It’s OK.’ He looked amused.
‘No, it’s not,’ I insisted
‘It is.’ He looked even more amused.
‘Do you want to talk about it?’ I asked, with gentle anxiety.
He was silent for a moment then he laughed.
‘What?’ My invincibility was rocked slightly.
‘Rachel,’ he said, ‘I thought you were very nice. I would have liked to see you again. You didn’t want to. End of story.’
‘Is that all you thought of me?’ I asked sulkily.
He shrugged and looked puzzled. ‘What do you want me to say?’
‘Well, didn’t you fancy me?’
‘Of course I fancied you.’ He smiled. ‘Who wouldn’t?’ That was more what I wanted to hear.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I thought you were beautiful. And very nice. But I respect your decision. Now I’ll leave you to it and I’ll go and mingle.’
‘Thought?’ I grabbed the back of his jacket and pouted.
He turned to me in surprise.
‘Thought?’ I said again. ‘You thought I was beautiful. Past tense?’
He shrugged, as if in confusion.
‘Rachel, you didn’t want to go out with me. Why are you asking me this?’
Silently I stepped close to him and, while he gazed at me in surprise, I hooked my index finger into the waistband of his jeans. And, holding his startled look, in one fluid motion I pulled him towards me.
I nearly laughed out loud with pleasure. I felt so empowered by my unusually raunchy behaviour – I was a woman in touch with her sensuality, who knew what she wanted and knew how to get it. His chest was against mine, his thighs were against mine, I could feel his breath on my upturned face. As I waited for him to kiss me, I was already planning how to get everyone out of my bedroom. There was no key for the door, but I’d put a chair under the handle. And wasn’t it uncanny that I’d had my legs waxed just the day before?
The spark between Luke and me was undeniable. Not for the first time I regretted that he was so uncool. But maybe if he had his hair cut and bought new clothes and…
Anytime you like with the kiss, Luke.
Anytime at all.
But he didn’t kiss me.
I waited impatiently. It wasn’t going according to plan, what was wrong with him?
‘Jesus.’ He shook his head and, with a small push, moved away from me. Where was he going? He was mad about me and I was very attractive, very sexy. So what was going on?
‘The arrogance of you,’ he said with a little laugh.
I didn’t understand him. I was being an assertive woman. I was a sister doing it for herself. Just like the magazines were always telling me to. I couldn’t understand why it had backfired so unexpectedly.
‘Tell me, Rachel,’ he asked confidentially, ‘what were you sniffing earlier?’
What had that got to do with anything? I wondered.