2

Dinner was a civilised affair compared to our usual meals out. We ate at Cafe Boheme in Soho, gorging ourselves on French food and espresso martinis. It was nice not to have two pairs of eyes watching my every move either. We usually chose somewhere louder and with more opportunity for trouble. Emmy in particular thrived on a bit of drama. I could take it or leave it, but today we promised we’d behave ourselves. I was 21 now, after all.

We left the restaurant shortly after 11 and walked to our favourite club, DDs. The evening was mild, not a hint of a breeze and warm enough not to need a jacket. Emmy and I strolled arm in arm through China Town and Piccadilly Circus until we reached the club entrance.

“Hey, Vince!” I called to the regular bouncer on the door.

The burly man turned towards the sound of his name, his severe expression breaking into a grin at the sight of us. “Rae, Emmy,” he greeted, kissing each our cheeks. “Good to see you both again.”

“Likewise,” I said with a squeeze of his arm.

He threw a cursory look behind us, like he was expecting more of us. “No bodyguards tonight?”

“Never again, Vincey!” Emmy crowed and tapped the ‘21’ badge on my chest. “She’s a free woman!”

“A free woman, eh?” The bouncer waggled his eyebrows. “What does that involve?”

“No more bodyguards, no more living in Daddy’s house. I can get a job. Live my life the way I want to.”

Vince looked upon me like I was spewing some real shit. “You got a job?”

“Well, maybe. I’m still waiting to hear back.”

“You’ll get it, Rae. Clever, beautiful girl like you can have anything she wants.”

I scowled. “I don’t want to get a job just because I’m beautiful.”

“Aye, I said clever too!” He lifted his hands defensively. “Anyway, get on in there and celebrate your birthday. And have a drink for me.”

Clutching my hand, Emmy dragged me under the rope he held up. “Thanks, Vincey!”

“We will!”

Inside, we descended a dimly lit staircase into a vaulted basement. Different rooms boasted various music styles, all with low velvet couches and fringed lamps on brass coffee tables.

We headed straight for the bar and ordered our drinks, before mooching through the rooms to find one we were feeling. From noughties pop to the soul train era, 80s boat rock and more. The one that called to us most, though, as usual, was 90s R&B.

Mary J. Blige’s My Life blared from every corner as Emmy and I took up space in the middle of the dance floor, spinning and twirling and swishing our hips. Heat descended upon me, kissing my neck and shoulders. Song after song played and I didn’t stop dancing. I didn’t care that sweat ran down my back and into my cleavage. I relished the press of other bodies against my own, wandering hands on my hips and waist.

I danced with Emmy and I danced with strangers until I couldn’t ignore the weight of my bladder any longer.

“Going to the loo!” I told Emmy, who merely nodded and resumed grinding her ass into some lucky bloke’s crotch.

I did my business in the bathroom and touched up my makeup in the mirrors, crowded by students and hen parties. My badge had been lost somewhere, although I wasn’t sad to see it go. I had no idea what the time was, but I was flush in the face and bright in the eyes. The sign of a good night.

I battled my way to the bar and ordered another round of drinks for Emmy and me. It was a lesson in patience, fighting for my spot and keeping my drinks upright as I found my way out.

Just as I cleared the masses, some clumsy twat knocked into me, and I nearly went ass over tit to the sticky club floor. I somehow, someway, managed to keep my drinks in hand, but I threw my dirtiest glare to the idiot who’d all but shoved me out the way.

I must’ve been channelling my inner Jimmy Buxton, because the man’s face paled and he rushed out an apology faster than I could snap my fingers (if I had a hand free), before scuttling away.

I sighed and turned back the way I was going, but I didn’t get very far. In fact I didn’t even take a step, yet I felt like the world came to a screeching halt, because there, sitting across the room in a roped off booth, was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen.

And he was looking right at me.