Do You Remember the First Time?

a fabulous time. He couldn’t possibly be embarrassed about asking us, I thought, when we were being the life and soul. Well, I was being the life and soul. I kept losing track of Stanzi; mostly because every time she came up and sensibly suggested we have a bit of a sit down, I waved her away.
    The last party Ol and I went to was a dinner party. Two of his work friends had just had a baby, and kept being incredibly ostentatious about it, like it was a real achievement on their part. They kept getting up to phone the babysitter and, for fuck’s sake, express milk . Why would you even tell people that’s what you were about to do? It was absolutely crap. I wanted to get drunk but Ol wouldn’t let me in case two of the other people at the table wanted to become clients of his (they certainly spent the entire evening asking for his advice free of charge). I’d called Tash halfway through and she was at Max’s parents, and we fantasised about stealing the boys’ credit cards and doing a speedy Thelma and Louise.
    The music here was loud and fantastic. After all, it was indeed Saturday night, and the air was getting hot like a baby! I remembered this from first time round! I loved alcopops, especially the blue ones, and all these boys from school; they were just lovely, even if they had to keep reminding me of their names all the time. They thought this was terribly funny, and so did I. ‘I can’t even remember your names!’ I was bawling, in absolute hysterics. Why had I ever thought everyone was horrible? Everyone was great! It was great here! Life was cool. I whirled in delirium, letting the sleeves of my jersey roll down to reveal my bra straps; dancing as sexily as I knew how. Everyone wantedto dance with me, it was fantastic. Time was passing in the blink of an eye. Suddenly I knew what I must do. I reached over and clambered up on the highly polished wooden dinner table that I used to make polite conversation with Clelland’s parents round on alternate Sundays, and which had now been pushed to the wall, and started dancing fit to bust.
    ‘Wooo!’ shouted the boys. They could see up my skirt. I didn’t care. The music came louder and louder and I was whirling and whirling and …
    ‘FLORA?’
    The voice cut across the noise of the sitting room like a whipcrack. Everyone stopped and turned round. Clelland, and his horribly gorgeous girlfriend, were standing, staring at me from the other side of the room. Next to them was Stanzi, gesticulating wildly at me.
    ‘Get down from there at once.’
    ‘Make me!’ I said, suddenly feeling drunk, powerful and defiant.
    ‘We’ll all make you, Flora’, said another voice, and there was grubby male laughter.
    Clelland didn’t take his gaze off me.
    ‘What – if I don’t get off your table you’ll go to Aberdeen?’
    He looked around. The music was still playing, but everyone was watching the drama.
    ‘What’s she talking about?’ hissed his girlfriend. She was looking distinctly pissed off. Mind you, I wouldn’t be that thrilled to have to give up my Saturday night to patrol a kiddy party.
    ‘Please, Flora?’
    I held up my skirt saucily. ‘Make me.’
    There was a mass wooing at this.
    ‘Goddamit, Flo, stop titting about.’
    I stuck my tongue out at him, and danced around.
    ‘Were you always this annoying?’
    ‘Were you always this boring?’
    ‘Goddamit …’ At that Clelland bit his lip and lost his patience. As all the other people in the room watched, he came up to the table, lifted me up and threw me over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold.
    There was a massive round of applause. Someone shouted, ‘She’s up for it, man!’ and someone else shouted, ‘Upside down for it, man!’ and my face went very red as I was, in fact, upside down on Clelland’s back and I knew my knickers were showing. Which didn’t seem as hilarious an idea as I’d thought a couple of minutes ago. I felt sick and embarrassed and stupid and patronised. At the same time, there was a strange sense of familiarity in being pressed to Clelland’s shirt, with his smell taking me straight back to our time together. Nothing can punch you back into the past as quickly as that.
    Suddenly, there in front of me (or behind me I guess, as Clelland marched me out the door) was Fallon. She and three of her henchmates, dressed up to the nines in little bikini tops and tight trousers. They were laughing their heads off.
    ‘Oh Jesus, did you see her!’ Fallon was gasping,