Page 29 of Friend of the Family

‘If you’re making, I’ll have one for the road,’ said Karen, hearing her stomach rumble.

‘One for the road?’ said Pog, brandishing a rasher. ‘Not leaving yet, are you? It’s the big night tonight. The ball.’

Karen shrugged, looking across at Amy.

‘I have to work,’ said Amy.

Pog frowned. ‘But don’t you get to join in the fun when you’ve finished? I thought that was the deal?’

‘Apparently I don’t get off until about midnight. And anyway, Karen hasn’t got a ticket.’

Pog’s face lit up and he clicked his fingers. ‘I think Max has a spare. He was taking Belinda Grey, but . . . well, I think there was an incident at the boat club.’

Karen’s heart jumped. Last night, when all the housemates had gone to the pub, all anyone could talk about was the Commem Ball at New College, which apparently was going to be the biggest and craziest night out in history. She had felt like she always did in Oxford: the gatecrashing pleb. Everyone was cleverer, wittier, wearing more expensive clothes. God, they even smelled better than her, all the girls wafting around in a cloud of fifty-quid perfume. Scent. She had to remember to call it scent; ‘perfume’ was a dead giveaway. Still, after Posh James had tried to stick his tongue down her throat and his hand up her top, she had felt accepted enough then. And she knew she wanted a bit of that again.

‘I’ll bet Max has already found some busty blonde from Teddy Hall to take,’ said Amy.

Karen narrowed her eyes. Last night, she had felt that old solidarity with Amy again, thinking that neither of them was going to the stupid ball. But Amy had lied about that, hadn’t she? And now it was obvious that her so-called friend was trying to get rid of her. She turned to Pog.

‘We can at least ask him,’ she said, giving him her sweetest smile.

Pog laughed. ‘Oh, I know exactly where he is.’ He beckoned with one crooked finger. Amy and Karen exchanged bemused glances before Karen followed him down the corridor. He stopped at the door of the small downstairs bathroom. ‘I should warn you, it’s not pretty in there.’

He pushed the door inwards with one finger and it creaked open, revealing the bath, a mildewed curtain half pulled across. Karen gasped. A leg was sticking out.

‘Is . . . is that him?’

Pog strode in and whipped back the curtain. Max was sprawled in the bath, fully dressed, one arm hooked lovingly around a green bottle.

‘I can only apologise,’ said Pog. He leaned forward and twisted the shower tap, sending a torrent of cold water cascading down on Max. The reaction was immediate and extreme.

‘Shit!’ He leapt upwards, his legs pedalling in the air, hands scrabbling at the tiles, then twisted sideways and landed with a clatter on the floor, causing both

Pog and Karen to jump back.

‘Pog, you bloody sadist!’ he yelled, trying to get to his feet and slipping back to his knees. ‘You cretin, I’m wringing!’

‘Language, Maximilian,’ scolded Pog. ‘Ladies present.’

Max looked up through his dripping fringe. ‘Hello, Karen,’ he said, pulling uselessly at his sodden collar. ‘Didn’t, ah, see you there.’

Pog threw him a towel. ‘Pull yourself together. Bacon sandwich?’

By the time Max ambled into the kitchen, he had dried his hair and clearly recovered a little of his customary swagger.

‘Sorry about that,’ he said, pouring the dregs of the champagne bottle into a dirty glass and raising it in a toast. ‘Got back late after the Oriel shindig. Didn’t seem much point in tackling the stairs at that point.’

Pog nodded as if that was a perfectly reasonable explanation.

Max sat down opposite Karen, who tried not to look at his bare chest.

‘On to more pressing business. I hear Lindy Grey has chucked you,’ said Pog, handing him a bacon roll.

Max frowned as he bit into it, ketchup dripping down his chin. ‘I chucked her, mate. She’s a liar for starters. Been making out that her old man’s landed when he’s actually some sort of shopkeeper.’

‘He’s on the board of Waitrose,’ said Amy, without looking up from her paper. ‘She’s always down the Bear on a Friday night. She’s really nice. And pretty, too.’

Max waved his glass dismissively. ‘Point is, she deceived me over her prospects.’