Peter McFeely

“You’ll be happy to leave this fucking dump behind you. So many fucking scumbags. No desire to do anything but cause trouble on a Saturday night. I can’t handle it anymore.” Jonny turned back towards his friends and the sanctity of their booth, shaking his head at the chaos he had just observed. He meant what he said, but realised the poignancy of what he had just said. “Please take me with you!” He mockingly pleaded, quickly masking his grievances as a joke, aware that few of them would ever be leaving the town behind them.
“I agree.” Laura came to his rescue. She was sitting again, having climbed on one of the seats to watch the fight unfold. “Well not necessarily that it’s a dump here… I mean, there are dickheads everywhere, probably even more in big cities…but, anyway, Nicola, you are so lucky. I’d do anything to be you tomorrow afternoon, starting a new adventure. You know when people say ‘you’ve got your whole life in front of you’ … you really do. You could go anywhere. Be anything.”
“But I’m not going to be anything – I’m going to work in a law firm. Who knows I could be back here in a few years…” None of Nicola’s friends picked up on her wistfulness. Instead they laughed. The atmosphere in the bar had settled and the band perhaps smartly had eased the tempo. Brian grabbed his glass and thrust it skywards. “Nicola – we all know we won’t be seeing you much anymore, so give us something to remember you by! Make a proper arse of yourself tonight!”

Nicola couldn’t help but laugh with the others as she pushed her glass to the middle of the clattering vessels, her arm soaking in spillage which left a strange sensation, oozy foam running off to unmask sticky spirits which seeped between fine blonde hairs. The group retracted in unison, a kinetic bond developed over years allowing them to know when each glass had been equally thumped and enough alcohol had been sacrificed to the celebratory ritual. Nicola traced the faces with her eyes as she swallowed the drink. Laura, Jonny, Brian, Maggie, Jane, Steve, Mark, Lisa, Pat, Amy. Her best friends for the past 15 years. At least one of them had been involved in every meaningful memory she had formed since her pre-teen years. Now she was venturing out on her own. The thought made her choke and she spat beer over her already wet arm. Steve slapped her on the back, “Are you alright Nicola?” “She obviously can’t wait to get out of here – Nicola, I’m sorry to tell you that just because you drink it quicker the night doesn’t end any sooner!” said Brian. “Well – depends how much she drinks!” Steve shot back and laughter once more filled the booth. Nicola coughed into her sleeve, swallowing a laugh and trying to catch the tear which would be mistaken as reaction to her lung spasm. She didn’t want the night to end at all.

The friendships had been formed in school. Though Nicola had known Jane since nursery, Mark had been her neighbour and Pat the son of her mother’s friend, it was as they entered their teens that the current flock bonded. In one of their first classes Maggie sat on one side of Nicola and Lisa the other. From then on, they were inseparable. As they grew older, other students thought of the group as a clique, though they never thought of themselves as such. They were all intelligent and did well academically. In their own way, each member was attractive. To others, as a group they were intimidating. They were not deliberately exclusionary but what made them such was exactly what pulled them together; their intimacy. In the school canteen they laughed together from bell to bell of the lunch hour. From time to time, a lone adventurer would join the group. They would be welcomed and involved. But they could never keep up with the in-jokes, the backstories and the ease with which they talked about previous romantic encounters. Nicola had always been the star of the group. The prettiest. The smartest. After school, perhaps afraid of breaking up the band, each elected individually to attend university close by. They visited each other regularly. Returned to their parents’ homes. Holidayed together. They continue to grow up together.

The town provided decent if unremarkable jobs. The others progressed in their careers but at the languid pace often customary in a small privately owned business; there aren’t too many positions between intern and owner. Nicola, meanwhile, joined a local law practice and quickly excelled. She showed aptitude that had her employer advising her of opportunities in the city. She applied, spoke to major international firms on the phone, bought new dress-suits, attended interviews, negotiated a decent package and signed a rental agreement, all the time never taking the opportunity seriously. Never thinking she would actually be leaving her home. Leaving her friends.

“I hope there is a Maggie Room in your new place!”
“Why would it be the Maggie Room? Surely the Jane Room!”
“Ah here, it’s obviously the Mark room – I’ve known her the longest”
“Would you share it with me?”
“Yeah OK – the Mark and Brian Room! You’re all welcome to stay in it when we’re not there of course”
“Not sure I want to stay in a Mark and Brian room ever…”
Nicola had to repeat herself to be heard over the laughter. “There is a spare room!” she said almost too eagerly. She was being paid well by her new employers. Much more than she earned now. But city life came with costs. She had over-extended herself on rent, for the sake of a spare room. She reasoned that it made it more likely someone would visit. “But I’m not naming it after anyone – you all have to visit” she jokingly pointed her finger like a scolding teacher.
“Of course we will come. I’m already looking at train tickets!” said Jane. Nicola held back a grimace. She’d got the train once and she knew that it was unlikely to be a repeat journey anyone would make. Flights on a city salary were fine… but it’s different for everyone who was working at home.
“You look like you don’t believe us.” Amy intertwined her fingers in Nicola’s and squeezed, giving her a genuine smile of promise.
“It’s just… none of us ever visit Sue.”
The group fell silent for a fraction of a second too long.
“Sue!” Pat belly-laughed. “Jesus, I loved Sue!”
“She was great!” Steve agreed. “Do you remember that time she was sick in her handbag?”
“Or when she spent 10 minutes trying to play a CD upside down!” Jane howled with laughter.
A shiver ran down Nicola’s spine. She felt she had dropped into a particularly drunken wake. Sue had been every bit as embedded in the group of friends as she. But she didn’t go to a local university. She went to the city. Occasional visits became infrequent and pretty soon stopped all together. Once a friend she thought she’d have for life, nerves now filled Nicola’s body when she thought about emailing her to say she was moving to the city and wanted to catch up.
“What is she even doing now?” asked Mark.
“I heard she’s pregnant” said Jane.
“Noooooo!” the chorus of exclamations pushed out disbelief while also sucking in all the air in the room. Either way, Nicola squirmed for breath.
“I heard she was pregnant a few years ago” Steve said, puzzled.
“So she has two kids?” asked Amy.
“Are you all mad or just hammered? Every time we mention Sue someone says she’s pregnant!” said Brian.
The group laughed uncontrollably again and as they got their breath back paused – in a moment of quiet reflection. In the memory of Sue.
Nicola was terrified that she would become a footnote in her friends’ nights out. That they would reminisce fondly, laughing over anecdotes by which she would rather not be remembered and speculating as to her current state. Pregnant, partner at the law firm, a drug addict, transgender. It would be anyone’s guess should they maintain the levels of contact with which Sue was privileged. Nicola told them she would come back regularly, but she knew it was impractical. For a start, the working hours were going to be different to anything she’d experienced before – weekends would be a luxury as she climbed the ladder – and, with the beyond-necessary rental expenditure, even train travel would be a stretch. But the spare room was the stitch to which she clung as the fabric of her entire teen and adult friendships unravelled in her mind. Nobody else seemed to see it, but Nicola knew things would be different after tonight. She sipped her drink, praying it somehow wouldn’t run out.

“Oh! Running low.” Steve noted, shrugging their elbows together. “We might as well finish these, I’ll get a round. Nicola, we really are all jealous. No more crappy pubs, no more assholes fighting on the floor. You’ll probably be in some classy wine bar with a waiter bringing you drinks! Good on you – you’ll knock ‘em dead up there! As my mam used to say to me – the world is your oyster!” The friends erupted in cheers. Nicola felt her cheeks flush and her eyes well. Too quietly for anyone to hear, she mumbled, “But I don’t like oysters.”

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