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To my surprise it’s only Adrienne who doesn’t join in.
Glenn reaches up and wipes a rogue droplet from the corner of Yasmin’s lips and Yasmin recoils.
I slam my glass on the table, but Yasmin gives me the smallest shake of her head that tells me to drop it. She shifts slightly out of his reach, acting like nothing happened. Maybe it didn’t. I’ve reached that point where I’m so drunk I can’t trust my vision.
I turn to Adrienne. ‘Not toasting to defeating Boones then?’
‘My focus is on the Yorkshire 100. I won’t be entering an Ampersand.’
Glenn snorts, but I keep my eyes on Adrienne. ‘And why’s that? Too good for my dad?’
‘Stella!’ In addition to her scolding tone Yasmin shoots me a warning glance.
‘What? I think it’s interesting.’
‘Adrienne doesn’t have the stomach for an Ampersand race, do you?’ Glenn’s tone is laced with disappointment. It even makes me wince, and I’m not the recipient. Gone is the camaraderie between them, the closeness. I feel my curiosity pique. I wonder how the rock goat took such a tumble in Glenn’s eyes. ‘Races like that require real grit.Courage to stay the course, strength to adapt to challenges. They are as much mental as they are physical. Not everyone has it. No shame in admitting it.’
‘I’ve had a long day,’ says Adrienne. She gets up from the table, throwing down a few euros. ‘I’ll see you in the morning.’
Some of the others protest at her leaving, but I take another gulp of champagne.
‘I think you’ve had enough,’ says Yasmin. She jumps up from her seat, moving to be next to me, and takes my glass away. ‘Do you have to be so rude?’
‘Come on. She’s a big girl.’
‘And so are you.’ She drapes one of her bronzed arms across my chair, speaking softly so that only I can hear. ‘Are you planning on telling her that you’re dating her ex?’ Yasmin’s deep brown eyes burrow into mine.
I sway. ‘No. I don’t even know if it’s going anywhere yet.’
She tuts. ‘Now who’s afraid?’
‘It’s not like that.’ But Yasmin’s right. Maybe it is a bit like that. I don’t want to spoil things. Adrienne is intimidating. It’s my dumb luck that the first guy to grab my attention in years is her ex-husband – who happens to be the attractive, dependable, loyal-as-fuck man of my dreams. But the ultrarunning world is like that. Shockingly small. Incestuous. Almost everyone is connected somehow.
‘So we agree you’re in no position to judge,’ she says.
‘All right, chill. I’ll go and apologize.’
She kisses my cheek. ‘What would I do without you?’
‘Ha ha.’ When I stand up from the table, my head swims. I give myself a beat before strolling outside, trying to be casual.
Adrienne is outside waiting for her Uber. I debate turning round and going to the bathroom instead, but she looks up at the sound of my heels.
I lurch forward. ‘Look, I’m sorry. Actually, I kinda agree with you.’
Her eyes narrow slightly, looking for the barb in my words. ‘About what?’
‘The Ampersands. I wish Yasmin wouldn’t race them.’
‘Why is that?’
‘He can’t be trusted.’ Tears well in my eyes. Stupid booze. Brings all my emotions up to the surface. I’m a lightweight and now the floodgates are open. I stumble over the kerb, almost landing flat on my face. So graceful.
Adrienne catches me under the arm. ‘Come on, the taxi’s here. I’ll take you back to the hotel.’
I don’t protest. The heat and the alcohol on too little food is a lethal combination for me. I cast a glance back into the restaurant, thinking of Yasmin. I should say goodbye.
Nah. It’s too hard. I’ll send her some flowers instead.