CHAPTER TWELVE: Mates Forever

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CHAPTER TWELVE

Mates Forever

Lisa, Michael and I sat on an aniline leather sofa, on the upper balcony of a cavernous pub on St Mary Street. Michael had ordered a series of bizarre alcoholic combinations, mishmashes of spirits and all sorts.

     ‘You’re not gonna be able to stand up in an hour.’ I warned him.

     ‘Good.’ He sipped his latest drink. ‘Standing up is overrated.’

     Lisa chuckled.

     ‘We’re gonna have a b-brilliant night tonight, dude and dudette. Let’s get on it!’ Michael’s breath reeked of alcohol and cigarettes.

     We’d been drinking all day after watching a play Michael had disliked. He’d shared his view with the cast afterwards, engaging himself in a heated debate, which he’d won convincingly. The director had been most upset when Michael denounced the play’s poor attempt at realism, and asserted that the theatre practitioner Stanislavski would be turning in his grave.

     ‘I need to pop into the little boy’s room.’ Michael finished his drink and stumbled across the crimson carpet.

     ‘Yeah, me too. I’ll be back now in a minute,’ I told Lisa.

     Michael flashed me a smile as we entered the bathroom.

     ‘What?’

     ‘Look what I’ve got.’ He revealed a small bag of cocaine in his hand.

     ‘Where’d you get that crap from?’

     ‘Some guy sold it to me earlier. Fancy some?’

     ‘Not particularly.’ I washed my hands and walked towards the door.

     ‘C’mon, it’ll give you a buzz. No? More for me then!’

     He locked himself in a toilet cubicle, while I waited for him. After a moment, I decided to give the stuff a go. I knocked the cubicle door and Michael grinned at me.

     ‘It’s not something I do often,’ he said. ‘Just a sometimes treat.’

     ‘Do me a small line and don’t tell Lisa. She’d kill me.’

     Michael told me to flush the toilet while he did a line, so nobody would hear the deplorable snorting sound.

     My heart pounded as he prepared a line for me. I wiped my clammy hands on my jeans and snorted the cocaine with a twenty pound note.

     ‘Now, rub some of it on your gums.’

     ‘That tastes horrible!’ I grimaced.

     ‘This stuff is good. Sometimes you end up buying washing powder.’

     ‘Your eyes are dilated.’

     ‘Your eyes are the size of small moons. Lisa’s gonna be looking into those bad boys all night!’ He laughed.

     ‘Right, don’t be obvious in front of her.’

     ‘Don’t be so paranoid.’

     ‘I’m not paranoid. Who said I was paranoid? You’re the paranoid one!’ I joked.

     Lisa observed us shrewdly as we returned to the sofa.

     ‘You’re looking very chirpy,’ she said.

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