‘You’re stumbling around and getting some strange looks from people, Grace. Maybe it’s best we get you home.’

‘Don’t be stupid, I’m fine. Everyone’s having a good time. We’re just dancing.’

‘You’re slurring.’

‘No I’m not. I’ve not even drunk that much.’

‘Yeah, well it seems to be affecting you. You know I don’t like it when you drink too much. I’ve told you before.’

‘Well then maybe you shouldn’t have kept plying me with drinks all day and night, eh?’ I say, over the thump of the music.

‘I’m just trying to look after you, Grace. I’m trying to keep you happy.’

‘I know,’ I say. ‘And I love you for it.’ I lean in to plant a sloppy kiss on his forehead, but miss my mark completely. The next thing I feel is a searing pain in my elbow as I land on the floor.

31

‘Tom, I said I’m sorry.’

I’m surprised by how much I need the support of the walls as I make my way into the house, and I’m now starting to feel incredibly sick.

‘Yeah, well you should be. You made me look like a right twat.’

‘I think it’s me who looked like the twat,’ I say, hiccuping as I speak and trying to hold on to my stomach. ‘Tell me the truth, Tom.’

Tom turns and looks at me. ‘What do you mean?’

‘The drinks. They weren’t just singles, were they?’

He shrugs. ‘I dunno. I only bought some of them.’

‘You were trying to get me drunk, weren’t you?’ I say, walking forward in what I think is a sultry, sexy manner. ‘You were just trying to get me into bed.’

‘I get you into bed every night, Grace. Now come on. Sit down and let’s get some water into you.’

‘Make sure it’s not vodka this time, won’t you? I know what you’re like. Trying to get women drunk so you can take advantage of them.’

Tom’s face changes. ‘Grace, you’re talking bollocks. Sit down now.’

‘I’m fine thanks. Standing makes me less likely to be sick.’

‘Yeah, and it makes you more likely to fall over. I’m trying to look after you. Now sit down.’

‘Do you like looking after women, Tom?’

‘Only ones I care about. Sit.’

‘How many women have you cared about, Tom?’

Tom sighs. ‘What are you talking about now?’

‘Tell me about them. You never talk about your exes. Not even Erin.’

I notice his jaw tense. ‘Why the fuck would I want to talk about them? They’re in the past.’

‘Your daughter isn’t.’

‘No. No, she isn’t. But I can’t start thinking about that. It’s not going to do anyone any good, least of all me. Now will you sit down?’

‘You should track them down, Tom. You should find them. You should find your little girl and tell her how much you love her. You should find Erin and tell her exactly what you think about her. You should tell her she’s a stupid fucking bitch who shouldn’t have—’