Seeing as he only ever spoke in monosyllables—even after three beers and endless coaxing from me—it had been pretty exhausting. It was only nine p.m. when we finished dinner, so Debbie and my mum exchanged an obvious glance and suggested that “the young ones” go out to a new cocktail bar while they went back to Debbie’s place to carry on catching up. Yanni and Nikki were already all over each other and didn’t seem to care if we went or not so long as they could carry on touching. I looked at Paul to see if he was up for it and he shrugged noncommittally. I smiled sweetly at the parents. “Sure,” I said, as a joyous smile spread across my mum’s face. We walked across the road to the new bar with its faux-crystal chandeliers, soft purple lighting and overpriced mojitos. The second we got there Yanni and Nikki disappeared, so Paul and I walked over to the bar. Without the company of his sister and parents, he eased up and offered to buy me a drink.
