Claire likes being in the bar before it opens. It’s all hers.
She’s never had to open up the place by herself before, and she’s actually enjoying it. It’s nice to have a bit of quiet before the music comes on, the customers come in, and the chaos ensues. She can sets up the bar the way she likes it and dream.
That’s what she’s doing when she hears the sound of the heavy front door being pushed open. The clamour of traffic outside from the street streams in, rupturing the peace. “We’re not open,” Claire calls out as she wipes a table.
“It’s me.”
It sounds like Nina. Claire spins around. It is Nina. She stands in the middle of the room, her hands adrift at her sides.
Claire freezes, cloth in hand, as a jolt of nerves hits her stomach. She did not expect to see Nina. They aren’t supposed to work together for days. She thought she’d have time to prepare.
Nina’s hair is brown now. It’s not as good as the blonde. It makes her look washed out and tired. But maybe she is washed out and tired, Claire thinks as she takes in the redness around her eyes and the way her hair hangs around her shoulders. Nina never just lets her hair hang.
Claire makes her way back to the safety of the bar, not sure what’s about to happen. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Nina says in return. She follows her to the bar and climbs up onto a stool.
“I didn’t think you were working tonight,” Claire says quietly and throws the cloth in the sink.
“I’m not.” Nina hunches over the bar and rests her chin on her arms. “I came to see you.”
“Why?”
Nina takes a deep breath. “Claire, I am so sorry about what happened. I was such a bitch to you.”
With a small surge of relief, Claire nods her acknowledgement—and her agreement. Just because she’s relieved doesn’t mean she’s going to let this go. She raises an eyebrow and folds her arms. “So why exactly are you sorry now?”
Nina stares down at her hands, knotted together. “For a few reasons, but mostly because I realise I was a complete asshole for going crazy at you and then not talking to you or listening to you when you tried to explain, and I know that now.”
“Well that’s true.”
“And because my mother and both my older sisters told me I was being a seriously shitty friend for treating you like that—and for just assuming what happened was your fault…” Nina frowns. “Actually, my sister told me I was the worst kind of feminist alive for doing that.”
Claire thinks of her mother and her sweeping demonisation of all women the other day, “Well, there’s got to be worse, but it was extremely shitty of you.”
“And also…” Nina continues to stare at the scratched bar surface. “I kind of know for a fact Josh is a cheating asshole now.”
“Ah.” Claire tips back her head. “So that’s it.” She sighs loudly. “How did you find out?”
“When I got home from my trip, I might have done a bit of snooping. On my sister’s recommendation.”
“And?”
“I found messages. Some girl in his course. And some other random as well, a picture of them together on his phone.”
“Oh.” What a freaking stupid idiot, Claire thinks. Doesn’t even know how to cover his tracks. But Nina probably doesn’t need to hear that right now.
“I might have thrown a chair at him.”
Claire stares at her. “You threw a chair?”
“I threw two chairs, actually.”
Claire almost wants to laugh at her vision of short-ass Nina throwing furniture at brutish Josh. But she doesn’t because she can see the tears gather in Nina’s eyes. Claire shakes her head. How is it that Nina manages to be so naïve when she’s so worldly in other ways?
Yet when it comes to people and their behaviour, Nina seems to retain this bizarre innocence. The more Claire knows her, the more she realises it’s because Nina desperately wants to think the best of people. And she has zero instinct for when they’re not. It must be that hippie upbringing. Then, when they don’t act as she expects, it hits her even harder than it would for people like Claire, who is always prepared for people to disappoint her.
Claire watches her friend unsuccessfully blink back more tears. She pulls down a bottle of whiskey and two glasses and pours them a shot each. She hands one to Nina with a small, sympathetic smile.
Nina smiles her thanks. She wipes her eyes on her sleeve and smears a streak of mascara under one eye. They silently push their glasses together and drink. Claire immediately takes them back and washes them. She’s not sure what Andrew would do if he found her drinking before work. Medicinal purposes, she’d probably tell him. And if he saw Nina right now, he’d probably agree.
Nina sniffs loudly. “It’s like I kind of knew, but I didn’t want to know,” she suddenly says. “Which is why I blamed you. Because I really, really didn’t want it to be the other way.”
Claire nods again. She feels terrible for Nina. She does. Because she knows how it feels. But she also doesn’t want to be treated like that again. She leans on the bar and looks her friend straight in the eye. “Never, ever do that again, okay?”
“Never.” Nina shakes her head, vehement, eyes wide.
Claire stares at her, determined to make her point. “Because I don’t do things like that. Not to my friends. Not even to girls I don’t like.”
Nina starts to tear up again. “I’m so sorry.”
“And Neen?” Claire pulls a napkin from the pile next to the mixers and passes it to her.
“Yeah?” Nina takes the napkin and blows her nose loudly.
“You have got to pick better guys. Maybe I shouldn’t have waited so long to tell you this, but Josh is a giant douche.”
Nina nods and starts to cry again.
Claire feels the squeeze of guilt. “And as clichéd as it might sound, you can do so much better.”
“I am so sorry, Claire. I was horrible to you.”
“Yeah, you were,” Claire agrees. She grabs a glass and pours Nina another shot. She clearly needs it. “But I’m over talking about it. What I want to know is did you kick him out?”
Nina nods and takes a small sip of her shot. “He’s had to move in with his mum. His nagging, crazy, never-leaves-him-alone-for-a-second mother.”
Claire smiles and picks up her cloth. “Karma’s a complete bitch like that,” she says cheerfully and hopes his mother is at least half as annoying as hers. She can’t help it. She likes the thought of him suffering.
