Lucy in the Sky

top. He kisses me again and moves against my leg, then he moans, gets up, and drags his hand through his hair.
    ‘Come on.’ He sighs. ‘We should get back down there.’
    I climb off the bed, disappointed, and touch up my lipgloss in the mirror. I powder my nose again too, because my face is flushed.
    The air is warm, and colourful pink and orange bougainvillea hangs over whitewashed walls as we make our way back down the path to the hub of the action. James holds my hand as he helps me negotiate the cobbles in high heels.
    It feels like the whole of Spain is out tonight. Bars overflow onto the pavements and loud banging music comes out of every venue. People are shouting and laughing. I’m suddenly feeling more up for it. We go to the bar and James orders us a jug of Long Island Ice Tea. The table is already full of half-empty jugs of variously-coloured cocktails.
    ‘Lucy!’ Jeremy shouts, standing up. He leans across the table and gives me a sweaty kiss on my cheek. I turn and say hi to everyone else.
    ‘Hello, Lucy,’ Edward says drily from next to Jeremy, dark hair flopping over his eyes. Susannah, his prissy-looking wife, smiles snootily at me. She’s in her early thirties and her auburn hair is quaffed expensively atop her head. We have nothing in common, I’m absolutely certain of that. God knows why James thought I’d like to go and stay in Henley with them for a weekend. Is he barmy?
    There are eight people around the table: Jeremy and his latest squeeze, a slender blonde called Lila, Edward and Susannah, Zoe, the brunette from the Christmas party, her boyfriend, Jim, and Terence and Hector, the two guys I vaguely recall from another office do. They seem to be on the pull from the way they’re eyeing up the girls at the bar.
    As I survey James’s mates I wonder if one of these blokes sent that text. I bet they’d all shit themselves if I brought it up now.
    I grin, inwardly. I’m tempted.
    Jeremy rushes off to find another chair. His hair is slicked back with gel and it looks hard and crispy to the touch. Everyone shifts around so I can squeeze in between James and Jim. James grabs the jug and pours me a cocktail.
    ‘We’re all having Sex On The Beach again tonight, Lucy, if you want to join in.’ Jeremy leers.
    ‘You’re so funny,’ I reply, straight-faced. ‘I think I’ll stick to Long Island Ice Tea.’
    James touches me on my leg and warns in my ear, ‘Be nice.’
    Apart from James in a dark blue T-shirt, all the men are wearing shirts. They seem to have left their ties at the office, at least.
    ‘So what do you do?’ Jim asks, from beside me. His blue shirt is unbuttoned casually and I can just see a few hairs on his chest. I give him a brief overview of my job.
    ‘And you?’ I ask. ‘Are you a lawyer too?’
    ‘Oh, no.’ He shakes his head a little too quickly and it makes me smile. ‘I work in IT.’ He seems nice. Slim, with short strawberry-blond hair and just a hint of freckles.
    ‘How long have you and Zoe been together?’ At the sound of her name, Zoe’s ears prick up and she turns to join in the conversation.
    ‘Must be about,’ Jim looks at her for confirmation, ‘eight months now?’
    ‘About that,’ she says blandly.
    ‘Zoe, do you want a top-up?’ Edward interrupts, jug in his hand.
    Hector, who’s very tall and skinny, and Terence, who’s chubby and a bit shorter than James, arrive back at the table sniggering. They’ve spent the last ten minutes up at the bar with a couple of platinum-blonde girls who look like they could be Swedish.
    ‘We’ve scored!’ They giggle. At first I think they mean they’ve pulled and I’m surprised because, compared to them, the girls are supermodels, but then I see the tiny packet Hector is waving in his hand.
    ‘Yes!’ Jeremy shouts, getting up and rubbing his hands together in glee. ‘You coming, James?’ he asks, then his eyes immediately dart towards me.
    ‘No, thanks,’ James answers, leaning back and putting his arm around my shoulder. He rubs my back.
    ‘Save some for me!’ Lila calls desperately, as her boyfriend heads off in the direction of the men’s toilets, leaving the rest of us at the table.
    I turn to James, feeling sick. ‘I hope you don’t…’
    ‘Don’t be stupid, Lucy,’ he replies heatedly.
    ‘Then why did Jeremy ask?’
    He takes his arm away from my shoulders in exasperation. ‘He’s only being polite!’ The others are watching us with amusement. I’m not about to