On the bus into town. The driver is too hard on the brakes and I can feel the nausea starting. Root in my bag for an extra-strong mint. The rush of it, scouring out the inside of my head, pushing any other taste away. The seats are still ingrained with fag smoke even though smoking’s been banned for years. There are lights on in all the houses. All those perfect families sitting around their dinner tables eating second helpings of steamed vegetables, discussing sports tournaments and outstanding school reports.

One of the bouncers salutes me as I walk into the club. I smile at him but he’s not familiar. It’s been years. He’s just being friendly. For a minute the colours are blinding, glittering spots of light making everyone look golden and manic. The queue for the bar is five people deep. I can’t see anyone from work. Stand on tiptoes and try to get a good view of the seats by the dance floor. Somebody pushes from behind. Sorry, love. It’s all beer froth and sequins. I don’t recognise the music and the bass is too loud. Hemmed in by bare arms, and shoulder blades. A fruity perfume I recognise from trying the tester at work. And the customer who turned her nose up when I tried to recommend it. Do some people actually like this? She said. Do some women actually want to smell edible?

And then Gary’s hand is on my arm. I might have known it would be Gary. He’s saying something, but I can’t make it out.

‘What?’

‘I can’t believe you actually made it!’

‘Where are the others?’

‘Come on,’ he says, ‘I saw you from the bar. I got you a rum and coke.’

He leads me around the dance floor to a dim corner, the edge of a long curved purple sofa near the toilets. It’s almost full. There’s barely enough room for two. A line of empty beer glasses on the table.

‘Where are the others?’

Gary shrugs and waves towards the dancefloor. ‘Last time I saw Donna she was admiring some Rugby players by the bar.’

The group of girls next to us stand up and push past in unison. They head towards the toilets together. One of them goes right over on her heel and falls against the wall. The others stand and laugh.

‘I’m gonna piss myself!’ she says sliding to the floor, ‘fucking bitches.’ But she’s laughing too. One of her friends bends over to help her up.

Gary shakes his head. ‘Mike and Jonsey are here somewhere. Half-way to shit-faced last time I checked.’

‘I hope Mike’s looking after him.’ I can’t imagine Jonsey drunk. He’s so timid. He doesn’t seem old enough to be in a place like this.

Gary shrugs. He leans in closer. Always too eager. Right up in my personal space.