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I hit the floor with a bang. Keira screamed, immediately scooping up the open tub of gloss paint before it starteddestroying the hard wood floor. She was hopping around swearing like a sailor and I burst out laughing.
“It’s not funny! Look at the state of the floor!”
I laughed harder, nearly hysterical now. My hip hurt where I’d landed, but I wasn’t injured, or maybe the alcohol had numbed me too much to notice. Keira’s stern face creased and she started to giggle too, which turned into hysterical can’t-breathe laughter.
I was light headed and a little dizzy but I reached for her wine glass and took a sip. Mine had bit it on the floor and was laying in shards.
“Is that your phone or mine?” she gasped around her laughter. I stopped and heard a phone buzzing. It was mine. I stumbled into a standing position, still gasping for breath, and answered the phone.
“Bonjour! Lola and Keira’s professional décor service, how may I help you?” Keira cackled on the floor, grabbing her side.
“O’Connell.”
“Mr Tell,” I replied politely and Keira’s eyebrows shot up.
“I need to see you.”
“Sorry, Mr Moneybags. I already told you I...oh damn...Keira, I’m standing in the paint tray!” I looked down and found my left foot was completely immersed in magnolia paint. Keira laughed harder than ever, tears pouring down her flushed face.
“Are you drunk?” he asked in a tone that would have made a sober me shut up immediately. Unfortunately, the nerve wine was doing the talking for me.
“What? No...or yes, a little.” There was a long pause.
“Just so you know, I won’t enjoy doing this.” He hung up and I stared at my phone.Won’t enjoy doing what?My wine-fuddled brain couldn’t figure it out. I looked at my friend, who had managed to stand up. Paint was smeared across the floor and the ladder lay in pieces.
“I think you need a new ladder,” I told her and we erupted into laughter again.
Half an hour later, we were sitting in the mess. Having given up on trying to get anything done, we’d polished off the bottle and were halfway through a second one. There was no denying it now; we were drunk.
My head was beginning to spin so I slumped onto the floor, the dust sheet barely cushioning my back. Keira lay next to me and slipped her hand into mine, her touch comforting and familiar.
“Will you miss your house?” I knew she was upset at having to sell her childhood home while her parents lived it up in Greece. She shrugged but I saw past it and leaned over, planting a kiss on her cheek.
“Thanks, Lo. I’ll miss it but honestly, I think I have more childhood memories in your house than mine.”
“You wanna move in with me? Sleepover style?”
Keira snorted. “I don’t think I’m compatible with living with an eight year old. Just promise you won’t sell your house and I’ll still feel like I have roots somewhere.”
I squeezed her hand. “Promise.”
We shrieked in unison as our tender moment was rudely interrupted by a loud banging.
“The fuck is that?” she grumbled, pulling herself to a sitting position. The banging came again. “Alright, alright!” she shouted as she stumbled out of the room and down the hallway. “I’m coming!”
I heard her open the door and a moment later, I heardhisvoice.
“Excuse me, Miss Larson.”
My stomach tightened. I knew that voice. Loud footsteps strode down the hall as I groaned and threw an arm over my face.
I let my arm drop and looked up to see a furious Alfie standing over me.
“Mr Tell, what on earth brings you here?”
“You’re wasted.” He sounded disgusted and I pulled myself up into a sitting position.
“Nope, just a little tipsy. So, what do you think?” I waved a clumsy hand around the room. “I think I’ve missed my calling.”