Jasmine trundled towards the bathrooms at the end of the artfully lit corridor. Men, women, disabled: that was her, the third sex. She opened the door marked with the stylized wheelchair and spun deftly around it. Solomon, she mused, as she braked in front the oversized throne, didn't sing about axles and wheels. And she didn't recall the queen of Sheba using a metal handrail to hoist herself out of her chair for a piss.
As she washed her hands she looked at her reflection in the big square mirror above the sink.
"You fucking cripple," she said aloud, "You make me sick. And don't start all that disability made me strong shit — school of hard knocks and all that bollocks. You used to be a loser and now you're a loser in a fucking wheelchair."
Her eyelashes were dark and very long.
"Anyway, if you could walk properly you wouldn't be here. Those pedicured bitches only invited you so you could be their token handicapped friend. Makes them feel good about themselves, like sponsoring a well or donating a fucking goat or whatever. Well fuck them, and fuck you too, for putting on the whole hard-bitten, laughing through the tears act for their benefit."
She finished washing her hands and dried them on the long loop of cloth that tugged down from the rounded dispenser on the wall.
When she got back to her friends' table — manoeuvring through the crowded bar — the conversation was on the same topic as it had been when she left.
"So where's he from?" asked Mandy.
"Scotland," said Lucy, "somewhere on the east coast."
"Oh," said Angela. She had a habit of twisting her wedding ring around her finger, flicking it with pinkie and thumb.
"Has he got an accent?" asked Gwen.
Lucy smiled and moved her eyebrows.
"I can't wait to meet him," said Gwen.
"You watch out for that one," said Mandy, "she eats men for breakfast."
"I do not!" said Gwen. "I only ever eat men for dessert."
"Hope you rinse afterwards," said Jasmine.
"So tell us again," said Mandy, "how did you meet him? We want the whole story this time."
"Well," said Lucy, "an old friend of mine, Sasha, was throwing a party. She had just moved in to her new flat and wanted to celebrate. She didn't tell me till the last minute and I had absolutely nothing to wear. In the end I just threw on an old black dress and some strappy shoes and away I went."
"I bet you looked fabulous," said Mandy, "as usual."
"I didn't get there till almost midnight, and the party looked like it was about to break up. Poor Sasha was worried sick. The first thing she said to me when I got in was, `Sorry my party's so crap!' (she was a little the worse for wear by this time). So anyway, once we'd had a quick Martini in the kitchen and I managed to calm her down, I set off to mingle."
"It wasn't as dead as I'd thought. There were still quite a few people milling around in the living room. So I helped myself to some canapes and a glass of champagne and generally made myself at home. So far, so dull. But then I felt this pair of eyes on me. I couldn't see anyone looking at me, but I knew they were there. Know what I mean?"
"Well anyway, I turned round and there was this guy just staring at me. He was sitting on a white leather sofa with his arm draped along the seat back and a cigar burning away in his other hand. He was wearing a bright yellow tie, loosened off, with the top buttons of his shirt undone."
"It's the attention to detail I love about Lucy's stories," said Gwen.
"You could his chest hairs sprouting out," said Lucy.
Gwen, Angela and Mandy made faces.
"Before I knew it, he was on his feet, offering to refill my glass. His breath reeked of cigars and booze. Well I didn't want to be rude, so I said okay and he fetched a bottle and topped me up. We chinked glasses and he asked if I wanted to sit down."
"As you can imagine, I wasn't too keen on the idea of cosying up on the couch. But it seemed easier to go along with it than make a big fuss about refusing. As soon as we're sitting down he starts going on about his job and how much money he earns (apparently he's some big shot in the city)."
"What I remember most is the way he smoked. It was like he was biting the end off his cigar and spitting it out with every puff."
"Anyway, while he was talking, this guy across the room caught my eye. I'd noticed him before, but he was talking to a girl, and I thought they were together. The way he looked at me now though, I swear it was like an electric shock going through me."
"So cigar man (I've forgotten his name) keeps banging on and on about his career, and I keep locking eyes with this gorgeous blond guy. I begin to realise he's in the same situation as me — you know, just talking to someone out of politeness. I remember wishing we were at a ball, so the music would stop and we could just bow to each other and change partners."
"If only life was that simple," said Gwen.
"Yes," murmured Angela.
"The final straw was when cigar man said to me `The thing is, it gets lonely at the top,' and planted his hand on my knee. `Excuse me,' I said, `but I need some fresh air.' I walked across the room to the balcony, managing to catch gorgeous guy's eye on the way. But cigar man didn't take the hint and followed me out."
"There were a few couples outside, whispering sweet nothings to each other and enjoying the view. I realised — too late — that I'd given cigar man the wrong impression. He thought I wanted to be alone with him in the moonlight!"
Mandy clapped her hand to her mouth.
"Before I knew it, he had me backed up again the parapet, breathing his cigar breath in my face. He kept trying to kiss me and put his hands on me. It was horrible. I swear I was about to hit him, or throw the rest of my drink in his face, when, just then, gorgeous guy came out onto the balcony — alone."
"He walked up to us, staring me straight in the eye, and cigar man spun round to see what I was looking at. Well at first I thought cigar man was going to punch him, but when he saw who it was, he just smiled this really fake smile and said, `Hi Liam, didn't see you there."'
"Liam?" echoed Angela, twisting her ring.
"Then Liam turned to me and said, `Don't worry, he's leaving.' That was all he said. Cigar man just mumbled something and walked away."
"It turned out Liam was cigar man's boss!"
"Liam asked me if I would stay and have a drink with him, and as you can imagine I didn't refuse. We found a seat on the balcony, and well… I won't go into all the details, but let's just say we had a wonderful time out there, with the city lights twinkling below us."
"Sounds like a fairy tale," said Mandy.
"Too good to be true," agreed Gwen.
Just then Lucy's phone began to ring. Its harsh and cheerful melody was muffled at first by her handbag, then louder when she snapped open the clasps.
"Hi Liam," she said, rising from her seat, "we're all waiting for you…"
Lucy had hardly left when Angela asked, "Who wants another drink?"
"Campari soda for me please," said Gwen.
"I'll have a strawberry daquari," said Mandy. "And make sure they put some cream on top!"
"Double whisky," said Jasmine, "no ice."
Angela was still at the bar when Lucy came back with a tall blond man on her arm. She seemed to be standing slightly behind him, as if using his body to shield herself from an unseen threat.
"Mandy this is Liam, Liam this is Mandy."
"And this is Gwen."
"And this is my dear, dear friend Jasmine."
"Where's Angie?"
"At the bar," said Jasmine.
"Well I guess you'll meet Angela in a minute," said Lucy.
"Sure," said Liam, smiling oddly.
"We've heard a lot about you Liam," said Mandy, once Liam and Lucy were sitting.
"All good I hope," said Liam.
"I should say so. Lucy hasn't shut up about you all week!"
"Well I hope I'm not a disappointment."
Mandy had the feeling that Liam's thoughts were elsewhere. She started to say, "not at all, not at all," when Angela returned, carrying a tray with four drinks on it.
"Liam this is… do you know each other?"
"I knew it!" said Angela, "when you said Liam, Scottish, works in the city, I knew it rang a bell. We redesigned your offices didn't we? Last… year some time. And you took us all out to dinner when it was… over, and my husband came along too, and we ate a lovely meal in that lovely… Thai place!"
"Small world," said Liam.
"Yes!" said Angela.
She put the tray down a little too hard and some of Mandy's Campari sloshed out of its glass.
"What an idiot I am!"
She took a tissue from her handbag. "Sorry I didn't get anything for you guys," she said to Lucy, as she mopped up the thin pink puddle in the tray. She didn't think her hand was shaking too obviously. "I didn't know how long you'd be."
"No bother," said Liam, "I'll go. What're you having Lucy?"
"Glass of white wine would be lovely."
He walked slowly away from the table, his posture very straight. Over the hubbub of the bar he heard the women's voices stop, then start again, quick and low. It was seven o' clock and the place was packed with office workers. By nine it would be empty. Office girls looked his way as he moved through the softly lit crush. Their clothes and hair were neat, and enticing, like the wrapping around a birthday present.
He found a space at the bar and rested his elbow on it with a twenty pound note in his hand. Round bluish lights were embedded in the bar, illuminating the barmaids' faces from below. Further back, spirit bottles glinted on high shelves. He caught one of the barmaids' eyes and a nod told him that he would be next.
He relaxed his gaze to straight ahead of him. A mirror with a dark wooden frame faced him over the bar. As the barmaids hurried back and forth, and the people beside him jostled to get served, or turned to pass drinks to their friends, he alone remained perfectly still. Or almost perfectly: his eyes moved, tracing the strong lines of his cheekbones and his jaw, picked out by the rising light. For a moment he had the uneasy sensation of watching himself from the outside. It was as if he had died many years ago, and the dark, gleaming wood framed a portrait instead of a mirror.
He shook his head. "Too many lonely nights," he told himself. "Not tonight though," he added defensively.
The barmaid came and took his order. She returned with a glass of white wine, a pint of lager, and a little smile.
"No," said Mandy, when Liam got back, "I can't see it at all."
"Gwen thinks you look like her brother," explained Lucy, "but we don't agree."
Liam turned to Gwen.
"How do I look like your brother?" he asked.
"I don't know," she replied, "I guess he's tall, like you, and he has blond hair. He's also…"
"He's also?"
"I don't know — I guess he's also good looking."
"Must run in the family."
Gwen giggled.
"So when did you move down to London?" she asked, swishing her long, blonde curls away from her face.
"Six years ago."
"But you haven't lost your accent."
"Ah have a wee bit, hen."
She giggled again.
"How about you, where are you from?" he asked.
"Kent."
"You look like a home counties girl."
"What do you mean!"
"I can imagine you riding around daddy's estate on a horse."
"I've never ridden a horse in my life!"
"Alright then, driving daddy's convertible Jag."
"I wish."
"Or maybe you're more the nice, prim kind."
"Let me tell you, I'm anything but prim."
Jasmine began to fiddle with her empty whisky glass. The whole scene was starting to embarrass her.
"Anyone want a drink?" she asked.
"No thanks," said Mandy and Gwen.
`I'm good," said Liam, gesturing at his almost full pint.
Lucy shook her head, seemingly unable to take her eyes off Liam and Gwen. Angela did the same.
Jasmine shrugged, then wheeled back from the table. She brought the front of her chair round in a neat arc and rolled off into the crowd.
"Remember Jack?" asked Liam, turning to Lucy.
"Who — oh, cigar man! How could I forget him."
"I sacked him this morning."
"What?"
"He'd been harassing one of the receptionists."
"No!"
"I bawled him out in front of the whole office. Gave him twenty minutes to clear his desk. Bloody idiot looked like he was about to burst into tears."
"Oh Liam," said Lucy, putting her hand on his shoulder.
"It's the wife I feel sorry for," said Liam.
"My god — you mean he's married?"
"Five years."
"Oh my god!"
"I know. People like him give marriage a bad name."
There were vague murmurs and shaking heads. Afterwards, an uncomfortable silence fell across the table. Angela took her phone out, flipped the lid open, and loudly clicked her tongue.
"I don't believe it," she said, "I forgot I'd told Paul we'd go out for dinner tonight. I'm such a klutz. I don't know how he puts up with me sometimes, I really don't. Well I'd better dash off before he goes completely spare."
"Sorry guys. Great to see you all again. Do give me a ring the next time you're planning a get together."
"And it was lovely to meet you Liam," she reached her cheek forward for a kiss, "again."
"Say hi to your husband for me," he said as she left.
A while later, Jasmine came back with two glasses of whisky in the special drink holders attached to the arms of her wheelchair.
"Did I miss something?" she asked.
"Angie had to leave," said Lucy. "Dinner date."
Jasmine nodded. "Alright for some."
"One for the road," she explained, as she set the two glasses on the table.
Everyone laughed. Especially Liam. He looked at Jasmine like a child who has just been given a new toy.
"Must be useful," he said, "not having to find a seat in the pub."
"It's great. You should try it sometime. Drive your BMW into a tree."
Liam laughed again, lips tight over white teeth.
"Jasmine has such a dry sense of humour," said Lucy.
"I bet she does," said Liam.
"Whatever," said Jasmine.
"I can't believe how warm it's getting," said Lucy, "last week it felt like winter, now it's full blown spring."
No-one spoke.
Are we still going to Paris?" she continued, turning to Liam, "I can't wait to go to Paris."
"Oh course we are."
"I love Paris in the springtime…"
Lucy trailed off and Liam started laughing, then they both laughed together. He drew her towards him and kissed her on the lips. He kissed her again and said, "Of course we are."
Lucy turned to her friends as if she had momentarily forgotten they were there.
"That sounds wonderful," said Mandy, "I'm jealous!"
"Paris is lovely at this time of year," said Gwen, "especially if you're with the right person."
"How about you Jasmine," said Liam, "do you get to travel much?"
"All the time," said Jasmine. "As a matter of fact, I'm about to travel home."
"Leaving already?" said Lucy.
"Things to do, people to meet," said Jasmine. "Great to see you all again."
The others looked at each other as if her sudden departure was not entirely out of character.
She downed the second whisky and felt it burn a line from her throat to her stomach. She reflected that it was almost a pity to leave now, just when she was drunk enough to enjoy herself. But she had decided a long time ago that life was only interesting when you didn't understand it. As soon you did, as soon as you saw it for what it was, it lost its mystery, and without that it was nothing but a waste of time.
"Coming through," she called, as she tacked through the chattering crowd.
