{"id":12034,"date":"2021-09-13T15:19:08","date_gmt":"2021-09-13T14:19:08","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=12034"},"modified":"2021-11-02T21:10:39","modified_gmt":"2021-11-02T20:10:39","slug":"object","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=12034","title":{"rendered":"Object<\/strong>"},"content":{"rendered":"

 <\/p>\n

For a woman of her age, Sally maintains a spirited social life. She has, since her return to Dublin, been part of a group of five that she met at work. Though she is the eldest in the group by twenty years, Sally thinks she does a good job of keeping up with the others. You will find her out gallivanting four nights a month, cackling up into the cold air, staggering down footpaths in wobbly heels.<\/p>\n

Tonight they are in McBertie\u2019s. Sally and Lauren are in the smoking area, a square, red-lit room that, mirrored on three sides, feels larger than it is. Below the mirror is a long and raised red seat, made out of the same material as diner booths. There are high tables and high chairs which always seem to have one short leg. The choking ashtrays are rarely emptied.<\/p>\n

Sally\u2019s phone has just vibrated on the table. There is a message from Hugo:<\/p>\n

Hey Sally. I won\u2019t be coming out tonight. I\u2019m very tired and I have things to do tomorrow. Sorry.<\/em><\/p>\n

Sally puts her phone back on the table, feeling first a familiar, anti-climactic kind of relief. She lifts her glass without realising that it\u2019s empty, save for the lime wedge that lands on her lip. She needs a drink but first she lights a cigarette. In the mirror\u2019s reflection she observes Lauren, then herself, then Lauren again. She notices less the differences of age \u2013 her thinness of hair, her lines and sags \u2013 and more the differences of expression. There is an obvious calmness, a composure, settled on Lauren\u2019s face. An arrogance, even, in the way her eyes inspect the surrounding tables, the way she giggles down into her phone.<\/p>\n

\u2018He\u2019s not coming out,\u2019 Sally says.<\/p>\n

\u2018Who?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Hugo.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Oh, I\u2019m sorry, Sal,\u2019 Lauren says, taking longer than she should to discard her amusement at whatever was on her phone, and to adopt a more suitable mood.<\/p>\n

Sally says it\u2019s fine, that it doesn\u2019t matter, which is the appropriate response \u2013 brushing it off. It is the response Sally\u2019s friends would be expecting, and would know how to react to. However, the difficulty that Sally experiences in emitting this reaction surprises her. She begins to curse herself for letting her hopes get carried away.<\/p>\n

With Lauren now rubbing Sally\u2019s knee, and \u2013\u00a0 however belatedly \u2013 fulfilling the role of compassionate friend, Sally says, \u2018Honestly, it\u2019s fine. Don\u2019t worry about it,\u2019 before pulling her leg out from under Lauren\u2019s hand.<\/p>\n

This seems to convince Lauren that things are indeed fine, and that she can now perk up. She says, \u2018Guess we won\u2019t be able to test your theory till Friday.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018What theory?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Weren\u2019t you saying earlier that you thought Hugo might be gay?\u2019<\/p>\n

Their staff Christmas party is on Friday. They all work in a care home in Donnybrook; Hugo is the new chef. Sally didn\u2019t actually invite Hugo tonight. She had a smoke with him yesterday morning and he asked her if she had any plans for the weekend. She mentioned McBertie\u2019s, forgetting that Hugo only lived around the corner from Ranelagh. He said he might drop by and Sally didn\u2019t know what to say other than okay. He seems to Sally a bit clueless like that, like he doesn\u2019t really know how things work. The others aren\u2019t too keen on him. He gave out to \u00c1ine one day for taking oranges from the walk-in fridge. \u2018French prick,\u2019 \u00c1ine had said. They haven\u2019t spent as much time with him as Sally has, though. She likes that he\u2019s big and doesn\u2019t talk too much, like he has nothing to prove. And she likes his accent. Mostly, though, she likes that because the others don\u2019t like him, they don\u2019t talk to him about her. He knows only what Sally has revealed to him about herself.<\/p>\n

Earlier tonight, Sally was saying that she thought Hugo might be gay. She said she saw him leaving work one day with a man about his age. Also, he didn\u2019t have any kids. The others told Sally that she was imagining things, and in fairness, she probably thought she was too. But since she has started going for smoke breaks with Hugo, her friends have become convinced that she has a thing for him. She needs some way of keeping them off her back.<\/p>\n

The dancefloor in McBertie\u2019s is cleverly positioned. It runs alongside the main bar, allowing customers to lean across mid-step and place their orders. As the nights grow\u00a0old, the floor gets sticky from spilled drink. By closing time it feels like a piece of it is glued to one\u2019s heel.<\/p>\n

Sally and Lauren buy vodka 7ups and join the others in the middle of the dancefloor. Fairytale of New York <\/em>plays; then Feliz Navidad.<\/em> It is always easiest for Sally to dance when Neil is around. He sneaks up behind strangers, making faces over their shoulders, pretending to hit on the men. It is immature, but it means that all eyes are on him; the rest of them can just dance and laugh. When Neil isn\u2019t around, Sally feels like a hostage on the dancefloor, brought there as an offering to whichever decent-looking older men are around.<\/p>\n

Sure enough, when Neil runs off to the bathroom (followed by \u00c1ine, which means they\u2019re gone to do coke), Diego gently pushes Sally in the direction of a man with a white beard. The man is alone, dancing with his back hunched and elbows out, in a kind of circle around nothing. When Sally accidentally makes eye contact with the man, he seems to read her look as an invitation to approach. Sally takes Lauren\u2019s hand and turns her back to the man, and for a moment feels him lingering a few feet behind her. Diego then approaches the man and speaks into his ear in a manner that seems apologetic. Sally tells Lauren that she\u2019s going for a smoke.<\/p>\n

Sally likes to sneak off for a smoke or two by herself on nights out. She likes to think that maybe her friends are missing her, or that they are at least wondering where she is. She really likes her friends, and she knows that they like her too for the way she has always come across to them. She is their cool older friend who still needs her nights out on the town. And why risk showing them something else, something they might not like as much? That\u2019s why, or at least that\u2019s part of the reason why she has to keep wearing these low-cut tops and short skirts that she\u2019s always having to pull down while she walks around. The first time she went out with this group she was fresh off her divorce and she kissed three different men in a pub on Merchant\u2019s Quay. Then the second night she kissed two men and left the pub with one of them. She told Lauren and \u00c1ine the next day that the man couldn\u2019t get it up \u2013 they had a great laugh about it. The truth is that she had wished the man well and taken a taxi home by herself. Since then her image has stuck. A version of herself that Sally is both comfortable and uncomfortable with. It requires quite a bit of deception, but it also keeps her friends at a distance she likes \u2013 close enough.<\/p>\n

McBertie\u2019s tends to fill up at 2am when all the other pubs in Ranelagh close. Sally and Lauren are, by this stage, usually chatting to some men in suits; sometimes Lauren will even be sitting on one of their laps. Sally doesn\u2019t mind these interactions. There\u2019s no pressure because the men are young and they are only really there for Lauren. And Sally usually gets a free drink out of it anyway. At some point Lauren will stand up and tell the men how nice it has been to meet them, but that she has a boyfriend. Then the men might look on while Lauren dances; they might even come over to chat to her again. That\u2019s when Sally and one of the others will step in and tell them that Lauren has a boyfriend, and that they now need to leave her alone. Sally always enjoys this last part.<\/p>\n

Sally spots Diego at the bar. She leaves Lauren and the man with the Donegal accent that Lauren has been chatting to. She buys herself a vodka 7up, and Diego a gin and tonic.<\/p>\n

\u2018That woman is some flirt,\u2019 Sally says.<\/p>\n

\u2018Who?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Who do you think?\u2019<\/p>\n

Diego says nothing. He is looking away from Sally, towards the dancefloor. She shouldn\u2019t expect his full attention. It is getting to that time of night when a very compelling horniness tends to kidnap him. A time when the night\u2019s overall successfulness is under consideration \u2013 depending on whether he gets any.<\/p>\n

\u2018Lauren,\u2019 Sally says, louder than she intended.<\/p>\n

\u2018Oh,\u2019 Diego says. \u2018She\u2019s just having fun, no?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018I know, I know\u2026 but sometimes you know\u2013\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018What? I can\u2019t hear you.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Sometimes I feel bad for her boyfriend!\u2019<\/p>\n

Diego stops his inspection of the dancefloor, looks at Sally and raises his eyebrows. It is a look that opens up a little hole of regret in her stomach, one that suggests that she is crossing the line. When Diego returns his stare to the dancefloor, Sally wants to explain herself. She wants to say that she didn\u2019t mean anything by it, that she is just a bit drunk.<\/p>\n

When, a minute later, Diego asks Sally whether she thinks the man in the orange shirt with the blond highlights is gay, she is relieved, and her insides seem to knit themselves back into normal order. \u2018Good chance,\u2019 she says, \u2018You should go for it!\u2019 Diego then takes Sally\u2019s hand, strides onto the dancefloor and approaches the man. Moments later the two men are sharing Diego\u2019s drink and shouting into each other\u2019s ears. Sally goes for a smoke.<\/p>\n

She stands in the far corner of the smoking area, beside the kitchen\u2019s fire exit. There is a couple Sally\u2019s age next to her who she thinks are either married or just friends, because no parts of their bodies are touching. A group of lads are speaking loudly about something that someone named Johnno has done. A man sitting on his own looks at Sally and Sally looks away and takes out her phone.<\/p>\n

Without feeling like she decides to, Sally opens Whatsapp and re-reads Hugo\u2019s message. \u2018Fuck,\u2019 she says to herself, loud enough that someone could have noticed, but no one had. She hasn\u2019t messaged Hugo back. She then writes:<\/p>\n

Hey Hugo! Not a problem. I\u2019ll catch you some other time. What have you on tomorrow?<\/em><\/p>\n

She then deletes the question at the end and looks over the message to make sure there aren\u2019t any typos. She wonders if it\u2019s a bit late to be messaging and locks her phone. Then she unlocks it and sends the message. She lights a cigarette and scrolls through her Facebook feed.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Sally lives in a bungalow in Harold\u2019s Cross with her son, Eoghan, and his girlfriend, Jenny. The place is painted a shade of off-white, and is connected on both sides to bungalows painted slightly different shades of off-white. The back garden is a less than a dozen square feet of concrete; the front garden is a public footpath. They have been here for three years. Sally sleeps in the small bedroom.<\/p>\n

Lauren and \u00c1ine come back to Sally\u2019s for a nightcap. Neil, who is dating and living with \u00c1ine, had been dancing with a stranger just before the pub closed. \u00c1ine told him he could go fuck himself, that she was going to sleep at Sally\u2019s tonight. She actually said this before asking Sally if it would be alright, not that Sally would have said no. She always likes to have her friends over after a night out because it takes her even longer than usual to get to sleep. She ends up replaying the night\u2019s interactions and awkward moments in her mind, which gets her thinking about other things too.<\/p>\n

The three women are sitting on the couch, their legs hidden beneath a large blue blanket. They are swiping through Tinder on Sally\u2019s phone. Lauren and \u00c1ine created the account a few months ago and started messaging some men for a laugh. One night they arranged a date with a man from Kildare after Sally had said that he had nice hair. Sally cancelled the date the next morning, explaining to the man that her friends had taken her phone. \u2018Some friends,\u2019 the man had messaged back. She let on to the girls though that she had gone on the date when they asked her about it. Sally said that he was an awful bore and that she couldn\u2019t get away soon enough.<\/p>\n

\u2018Him?\u2019 Lauren asks.<\/p>\n

\u2018Would you go away out of that\u2026 he could be my da,\u2019 Sally says.<\/p>\n

Swipe. \u2018What about him? He\u2019s alright,\u2019 \u00c1ine says.<\/p>\n

\u2018No, looks short. Had enough of short men in my life.\u2019<\/p>\n

Lauren and \u00c1ine mumble in agreement. Sally likes bringing up her ex-husband around her friends. They either shake their heads or call him a bastard, like trained dogs. And even if they don\u2019t know the full story as to why Aidan Keogh is a bastard \u2013 all they know about is the affair \u2013 it is nice to have their support.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Sally sits up on the couch when she hears the jingling of keys at the front door. She has spent the afternoon watching TV in her dressing gown, coughing up her lungs, and deciding that she will quit the smokes in the new year. She is yet to shower, though she keeps telling herself she will in a few minutes, when the painkillers kick in and her headache eases. Her eyes are tired but she doesn\u2019t want to close them. She won\u2019t sleep tonight if she does.<\/p>\n

Eoghan walks into the sitting room eating a chicken fillet roll from the deli, a can of coke bulging out of his trouser pocket. He has inherited his father\u2019s propensity for putting on weight around the gut, and Sally feels like she should tell him that his jumper has become too tight. She doesn\u2019t say anything, however, just watches him sit down onto the chair opposite her. He says \u2018hi\u2019 chewily; there is a blob of mayonnaise at the corner of his mouth.<\/p>\n

\u2018How was work?\u2019 Sally says.<\/p>\n

Eoghan says fine, but busy. He works as a salesman in an electronics shop in the city centre.<\/p>\n

\u2018There was some smell of smoke in here this morning, Ma,\u2019 he says.<\/p>\n

Eoghan doesn\u2019t like when Sally smokes inside. She thought she could get away with having a couple, it being so close to Christmas. He also doesn\u2019t like when Sally invites her friends over in the early hours of the morning, though he doesn\u2019t mention this as often as he used to.<\/p>\n

\u2018Sorry, love,\u2019 Sally says.<\/p>\n

Eoghan finishes his roll and mercifully cleans the spot of mayo off his face. He crumples up the deli paper before cracking open the coke can.<\/p>\n

\u2018I was talking to Dad,\u2019 Eoghan says. \u2018I told him that myself and Jenny wouldn\u2019t be down till Christmas Day because we\u2019re seeing her folks on Christmas Eve.\u2019<\/p>\n

Sally nods, says nothing.<\/p>\n

\u2018And he was annoyed because apparently he wants some help with the cooking.\u2019<\/p>\n

Sally weakly mumbles a sound like an \u2018oh\u2019 of surprise. She then shrugs as though her ex-husband\u2019s annoyance were a topic she knew nothing about. It has become a safe and reliable modus operandi to say as little as possible about Eoghan\u2019s father when he brings him up. She wonders sometimes though what Aidan says to their son about her. Eoghan continues:<\/p>\n

\u2018But sure he has Freda to help him anyway like.\u2019<\/p>\n

Sally slowly rolls her eyes, raises her eyebrows, and presents her son with a quick and knowing smile. It is an act, a performance of contempt, but one her son accepts without query. Sally knows that Freda is the figure, the symbol at whom Eoghan can fling his frustrations about Sally and Aidan\u2019s divorce. And from what little knowledge he possesses about it all, it would make sense to him for Sally to dislike her too.<\/p>\n

\u2018You know what your daddy is like,\u2019 is all that Sally says. Then they talk about something else.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Sally met Aidan Keogh in a pub on Usher\u2019s Quay in 1987 \u2013 she was nineteen. That first night he called Sally \u2018girl\u2019 enough times that she was sure that he had forgotten her name. He was two inches shorter than her, slim-built, with a small head and hands. He wore a grey three-piece and a musky perfume that made Sally want to lean in towards his neck. Whenever they entered or exited a place, he made a big show of letting Sally go first. He said it was only his second time in Dublin, that he needed to be \u2018shown around a bit\u2019. He said that he was up from Cavan for business, that he had just come into a lot of land because of his father\u2019s death. He paid for their drinks out of a fist-sized bundle of notes that he kept in his breast pocket.<\/p>\n

At that time Sally was working in the office of a furniture warehouse in East Wall, run by her uncle S\u00e9amus. Uncle S\u00e9amus was actually a cousin of some sort, and had also, since the death of Sally\u2019s father when she was eight, been the most consistent male influence on her life. She looked after the paperwork and answered the phones, working out of a tiny desk in an alcove at the back of S\u00e9amus\u2019 office, next to an old dot matrix printer that made a horrific scratching sound from one end of the day to the other. She had been there for three years and wanted a change, even if her mother warned against it \u2013 \u2018Thanks be to God that you have the job\u2026 Sure couldn\u2019t you be doing a lot worse\u2019.<\/p>\n

Sally spent four evenings with Aidan Keogh that August week. Down the quays, up Grafton Street, in around Temple Bar, her arm hooked around his, walking with a weightlessness she had never felt before. It was the looks from those they walked past that she enjoyed most. The disinterested glances from other couples, the stares from lone men whose interest seemed to linger even longer now that she clung to the arm of another. In the eyes of these strangers she could see how unremarkable they were, how commonplace. It felt like cheating, almost too easy, that she, that they, could bestow upon each other this status of ordinariness. That they could be left alone and secure in their cosy little item of two.<\/p>\n

She had never been with man. Aidan had a room booked in a hotel for the week and each night he asked Sally if she would like to come up for one last drink. Each night, fearful of exposing her inexperience, Sally said no. And though each time she declined it felt like her latest refusal would be the one to drive him away, Sally now understands that her saying no had the opposite effect. That this was what really interested Aidan about her.<\/p>\n

Before leaving Dublin he invited her to Cavan for a weekend. Three weeks later she left her job in the warehouse and moved to Fairtown, Co. Cavan. Her mother told her she had lost it, told the family that she was a \u2018lost cause\u2019. A year later she was Sally Keogh, and a year after that, Eoghan was born. In 2001, after Eoghan started secondary school, Sally got a job in the nursing home in Castlemanor. With Eoghan out of the house more, she had been looking for something to do. Caring suited her well. She liked being the person looking after another person, the accompaniment to the life of a subject that wasn\u2019t her. She worked at Castlemanor for nine years, until Aidan had his affair and Sally moved back to Dublin with her son.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Monday, 8.45am. Sally enters the staff room and switches on the kettle. She takes a teaspoon from the press before noticing that her red mug is missing. The growing hiss of the kettle is soon accompanied by a whistle \u2013 low then quickly high \u2013 coming from outside. Hugo is standing in the smoking area. He is pointing at Sally\u2019s steaming mug on the bench beside him.<\/p>\n

\u2018Thanks,\u2019 Sally says, as Hugo looks away. She realises that he can\u2019t hear her through the window.<\/p>\n

The smoking area comprises of a small shelter, with a bench wide enough for four. The plastic of the protective screen attracts sun in summer, and rebounds the rain with loud thrashes all year round. There are two narrow pockets for cigarette butts that are almost full.<\/p>\n

\u2018Thanks a mil,\u2019 Sally says when she is outside.<\/p>\n

Hugo mumbles something that sounds a bit like no problem. He is standing, holding his phone in one hand, coffee mug and cigarette in the other. There is dark hair on the tops of his hands; his fingers are thick. He sets down his mug as Sally sits onto the bench. He reaches into his back pocket and passes Sally a lighter.<\/p>\n

\u2018I don\u2019t know how the fuck you smoke when I\u2019m not here,\u2019 he says.<\/p>\n

Sally laughs. She has a lighter in her pocket and another one in her bag. She knows it\u2019s childish, but she\u2019s able to look past this enough to keep going with it.<\/p>\n

She asks him about his weekend and he says it was nothing special. Sally then starts talking about Saturday, saying it was great fun and that he would have enjoyed it. Hugo nods along while she reveals what an awful hangover she had yesterday, but when Sally gets the feeling that he\u2019s not really listening to her \u2013 he keeps looking at his phone \u2013 she cuts herself short by saying, \u2018but yeah, it was good fun.\u2019<\/p>\n

They say nothing for a few moments. Then Sally says, as jokingly as she can, \u2018You\u2019re not going to bail on me again for the party are you?\u2019<\/p>\n

Hugo smiles, which makes Sally laugh, louder than she wanted to.<\/p>\n

\u2018Fuck no\u2026 I\u2019ll be there,\u2019 he says.<\/p>\n

It is Hugo\u2019s gruffness that Sally\u2019s friends don\u2019t like, something that doesn\u2019t bother her as much. He once told Sally a while back that he learned his English in kitchens; that this is why he curses so much.<\/p>\n

Hugo sits down on the bench, and Sally, without thinking, scoots over to the right a little, away from him. She then realises that she has done this and scoots back to the left to where she was before.<\/p>\n

\u2018Look,\u2019 Hugo says, holding out his phone. \u2018My sister\u2019s kid.\u2019<\/p>\n

Sally smiles as she is shown the picture of a pig-tailed girl standing proudly beside a sandcastle, but it is a smile that she has to force onto her face. They have spoken about Hugo\u2019s niece at least three times before. Sally knows that her name is Maria, and that she will be seven in March. So why does he now refer to her as \u2018my sister\u2019s kid\u2019?<\/p>\n

Sally leaves Hugo at 9am and spends the rest of the morning in the office, organising the residents\u2019 medications. She has a hard time focusing on the task, pausing and staring at nothing in particular, before realising that she has stopped and telling herself to get back to work. It feels like there is a half-dome coating of fuzz around her brain, pushing like a weak current her thoughts toward a single, recurring subject \u2013 Hugo.<\/p>\n

At lunch Sally sits at a table with four of the residents. Maura O\u2019Connell is telling everyone about her trip to Sandymount Strand. Sally\u2019s phone vibrates just as Maura starts laughing about the two Yorkshire Terriers that were fighting. There\u2019s a message from Hugo:<\/p>\n

Coffee in 10? I need a fucking break.<\/em><\/p>\n

Haha sure!!<\/em><\/p>\n

Sally suddenly finds it much easier to listen to Maura\u2019s story. She laughs along and repeats the details to a couple of the deafer residents. She makes tea for everyone before heading to the staff room.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The morning Aidan Keogh came into the kitchen and confessed to the affair, Sally learned little that she did not already know. The steam of frying rashers and the low rays of sun combined to create a kind of mist. Sally witnessed her husband\u2019s revelation through a cloud.<\/p>\n

He spoke in hesitations, pausing for cheek-puffs and head-shakes, as if there were higher powers at play that had tricked him into adultery. She watched him closely, trying to deduce from his face and voice the necessary signs of remorse, not for her forgiveness \u2013 her forgiveness was off the table \u2013 but to confirm that she would get custody of Eoghan, uncontested. She said nothing as he spoke, remained silent when he finished. She thought it prudent to let on that she knew nothing, to let him squirm, at least for the time being. Silence would accomplish that, and would save her from expending energy that she did not have. The will to scream and shout at her husband had long departed her, was best buried.<\/p>\n

What Sally hadn\u2019t known before that morning was that the woman\u2019s name was Freda; that she was a receptionist at the Kilmore hotel, where they had stayed for two nights the previous autumn. Freda was before then a faceless, nameless heroine, absorbing the significant brunt of Sally\u2019s husband\u2019s urges.<\/p>\n

Aidan Keogh liked to dominate. He only liked to dominate. He liked saying the things that he was going to do before doing them, and saying things that he and Sally both know he wasn\u2019t going to do, but that he liked to pretend he might. Most of all he liked seeing real terror in a woman\u2019s eyes. It wasn\u2019t pleasant at the beginning, but it got much worse. It is the faces he made during the act that Sally sees now when she think of him: the veiny forehead; the manic concentration; the drool frothing at the edges of his mouth.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

It is the night of the Christmas party. Sally is in her bathroom, applying make-up and sipping at a gin and tonic. It takes her an hour to get ready, though that may be longer today because of the time she spends shaving in the shower. She enjoys getting ready as much as she enjoys going out. She likes seeing her face take on a sharper, more angular appearance as she puts on eyeshadow, eyeliner, mascara; the way the new darknesses lend power to her expression. It is, Sally thinks, the face of a woman who is out to enjoy herself, a face of agency and strength. It is only when she leaves her house and is surrounded by people that this confidence leaves her, replaced by the old feelings. Sometimes she wishes that the \u2018out\u2019 portion of the night didn\u2019t have to happen, that she could stay here, safe, frozen for a moment within her hopeful convictions.<\/p>\n

Sally smokes a cigarette in a laneway across the road from Kiely\u2019s. The night is still and she can hear music and laughter from inside the pub each time someone opens the door. Her exhalations are broken up, as if she were freezing, though it is not that cold. It is 10pm; she\u2019s an hour late. Both Hugo and Lauren have texted her, asking her where she is.<\/p>\n

Sally enters the pub and immediately spots Hugo. He is leaning against the bar, wearing a red Christmas jumper. The place is crammed, a cacophony of clinking glasses, chatter and Christmas tunes. Sally, needing the loo and not feeling at all ready for her first interaction with Hugo, walks quickly toward the back of the pub. She is stopped, first by Diego, then Lauren. By the time she has said her hellos and Happy Christmas\u2019, and noted that everyone is quite drunk, she is really bursting.<\/p>\n

Hugo is still at the bar when Sally comes out of the bathroom. She sits at the end of the long table that the company has reserved, sipping the vodka 7up that Lauren has bought her.<\/p>\n

When Hugo eventually comes over, he says, \u2018Where the fuck were you?\u2019<\/p>\n

Sally stands up and Hugo collects her into a one-handed hug. She says, \u2018did you miss me?\u2019 to which Hugo fails to answer. A drop of his lager falls onto her hand.<\/p>\n

Tonight is Sally\u2019s sixth Christmas party in this job. A pattern has emerged whereby everyone sits together in Kiely\u2019s in relative civility, catching up and picking at the finger food. Then the bosses go somewhere (no one knows where), before everyone else goes to McBertie\u2019s.<\/p>\n

Tonight, around half-past midnight people start asking each other if they are staying out. Sally asks Hugo, who has been roaming from bar to table to smoking area for hours now, never without a pint in hand.<\/p>\n

\u2018Of course I\u2019m fucking coming.\u2019<\/p>\n

Later on, outside Kiely\u2019s, Lauren, \u00c1ine, Diego and Neil run towards a taxi, giggling as they hop inside. Sally knows what they\u2019re doing. Lauren waves with a big smile from the front seat. Then she rolls down the window.<\/p>\n

\u2018Make sure she gets there, Hugo!\u2019<\/p>\n

Sally and Hugo wave and watch the taxi\u2019s red lights disappear around the corner. For a moment the street is empty of cars. A cold breeze blows and Sally crosses her arms. Farther up the road some women are laughing. Apart from that they are alone.<\/p>\n

Hugo is standing on the edge of the road, as if he thought that by doing so a taxi were more likely to come. \u2018Here we go,\u2019 he says a minute later, but the taxi drives past his outstretched arm. There are people in the backseat.<\/p>\n

\u2018Fuck,\u2019 Hugo says, rubbing the back of his head. He seems embarrassed to have failed at his one job. Sally wants to say something to make it better.<\/p>\n

\u2018I don\u2019t know why they leave the lights on when they have people inside.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Yeah.\u2019<\/p>\n

A taxi drives out of one of the side roads and pulls in beside them. They climb inside and say \u2018McBertie\u2019s please,\u2019 to the driver at the same time.<\/p>\n

\u2018No bother.\u2019<\/p>\n

While Hugo then talks to the driver about the weather, the football, and what part of France Hugo is from \u2013 \u2018never heard of it\u2019 \u2013 Sally notices herself wishing that the driver would slow down. It feels like something should happen right now, though she does not know what. Hugo, in the other backseat, feels very far away. As if even by reaching her arm across she would not be able to touch him. Sally starts counting down the roads and turns to McBertie\u2019s, silently cursing herself for not doing something, anything, other than just sit there. She offers to pay but Hugo beats her to it. \u2018Thanks,\u2019 she says, as they walk inside.<\/p>\n

The feeling that she has missed some chance grows over the next hour. Hugo is dragged away by Neil and the rest of the kitchen staff, who are doing shots at the bar. Sally is with Lauren and \u00c1ine \u2013 dancing, smoking, dancing, smoking.<\/p>\n

Now they are all dancing together. Eight of them, thrusting strange, inebriated shapes, singing along to Wham! and Kylie Minogue. Sally is next to Hugo, looking for his eyes before looking away as soon as she finds them. Her friends around her feel like an audience they do not need. There is a distance between her and Hugo that is growing, excruciatingly, with each minute of missed opportunity.<\/p>\n

It comes as a shock when Hugo puts his hand on the small of her back, even more of a shock when he kisses her. His lips are big and a bit wet, though he does not overuse his tongue. His hands\u2019 movements upon her back are erratic, squeezy then hesitant, starved yet out of practice.<\/p>\n

Lodged in the blindness of kissing, Sally cannot see who cheers, nor who whistles, nor who pinches her side. When she pulls away, noticing for the first time the white powder on the rim of Hugo\u2019s nostril, she is winked at by Lauren, then given a knowing nod by \u00c1ine. That they believe the night\u2019s hurdles to have been overcome saddens Sally. She knows this is her doing, but she would like them, at this moment, much closer. When, a few minutes later, Hugo invites Sally back to his place, she is ready to leave. Dancing amongst her friends, she has started to feel utterly alone.<\/p>\n

The extent of Hugo\u2019s intoxication becomes clear to Sally when they get outside. He knocks into her as they walk, zig-zagging across her path and back, each time apologising. When Sally slips her fingers into his, the gesture is more practical than romantic, and succeeds in straightening out his strides.<\/p>\n

Hugo pauses at the door to his place and taps his pockets. For a moment it looks like he is without keys, before he finds them. He lives on the ground floor of a large, red-brick house on Marlborough Road. In the living room is a couch, TV, coffee table, armchair. There are clothes on a drying rack in the centre of the room. Sally notices the white and blue briefs but little else.<\/p>\n

For a moment Sally does nothing other than watch Hugo remove his coat and turn on the lights. She then looks down at the brown mat and wonders what to do next. She begins to long for McBertie\u2019s and her friends, even for the air outside. Guiding home his erroneous steps, Sally had had some control, a purpose of some kind. Now she is in his place, his space. The air in the apartment is quiet with expectation.<\/p>\n

\u2018Want a drink?\u2019 Hugo says.<\/p>\n

\u2018Uhm\u2026 no thanks. Had enough I think.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Yeah, me too.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Can I use the bathroom though please?\u2019<\/p>\n

The bathroom is small and white, with the odour of a towel left unwashed too long. Sally has a hard time focusing on her reflection in the mirror, and an even harder time re-applying her lipstick. She is drunk. Drunker than she had thought while walking here. Drunk enough that the importance of the next few minutes does not quite reach her conscious state. She knows what is happening, but cannot assign to it the value that her sober self would. This makes her chuckle for some reason. She decides that she will have another drink after all.<\/p>\n

Hugo is not in the living room when Sally comes out. The door to the bedroom is now ajar, a yellowish light coming through the gap. Sally pushes open the door and sees Hugo curled up on the bed, clothes and shoes still on. She likes how long his back looks, the way his hand is cupped across his chest. A worry about how much of tonight Hugo will remember, and if he will have any regrets, strikes Sally like a slap in the face. She has no real intention of waking him, though for a moment all she wants is for the night to continue in some way. She removes Hugo\u2019s shoes and puts a blanket over him, purposely brushing his face as she does. When that does not stir him, Sally gives up, starts getting ready for bed herself. As she removes her earrings, the truth of what has happened tonight, the truth of her disappointment, settles in Sally\u2019s mind. And with it comes a tired, drunken, ready-for-bed kind of ecstasy that she has not felt before. She climbs in beside Hugo, her back to his, and falls straight to sleep.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

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