‘I’m shinging in the rain, just shinging in the rain!’ Stevie yelled at the top of her voice as she ran through the puddles as delicately as a hippo charging into a river. Her jeans were soaked to the knee and she squelched every time she put a foot to the pavement.
Her chestnut hair (not carrot – definitely not carrot!) normally a wild mass swirling around her head and down her back, hung dark and heavy with rain, almost to her waist. Mascara clowned her eyes and drops of water trickled off the end of her upturned nose. It was dark, raining heavily and Stevie was plainly very drunk and having a ball.
Leanne leaned weakly against the side of a parked car, her legs and her eyes crossed. ‘Stop it. I’m going to wet myself,’ she laughed, crossing her legs even tighter.
‘Don’t matter,’ Stevie called back, dancing into a particularly large puddle in the middle of the road. ‘You’re wet enough anyway. Who’d know?’
‘I would.’ Leanne hiccupped, and tried to focus, but Stevie noticed her pupils were pointing in different directions. ‘By the way, there’s a car coming.’
Headlights lit up the street, catching Stevie in the spotlight. She twirled around, kicking up water, which sparkled into droplets as it splashed back down.
‘My public loves me,’ she shouted, and with arms outstretched, she bowed low. ‘Thank you, thank you.’
The four-by-four drew to a halt in front of her and beeped its horn. Stevie blew expansive kisses in response, as Leanne bent almost double with hysterical laughter.
The vehicle idled in the centre of the road, black and shining, growling ominously and tooted again. Stevie took another bow and Leanne clapped enthusiastically. Neither of them heard the whine of the window.
‘Will you please get out of the middle of the road?’ an exasperated male voice called out.
Stevie ignored the car for a moment, raising her face skywards and opening her mouth to catch the raindrops. Then she smiled sweetly at it, but the drunken squint spoiled her attempt at an angelic expression.
‘No. Why don’t you go around me?’ she asked reasonably.
‘Because there’s not enough room,’ came the equally reasonable reply. ‘Now, will you please move?’
‘Why?’
‘Because you’re in the middle of the road.’ The voice was rising slightly in irritation. It was still a very nice voice, Stevie thought, disjointedly.
‘Why?’ she repeated.
‘I don’t know why you’re in the middle of the road, do I? You’re probably mad, or stupid.’ There was a pause. ‘Look, I’m on the way to see a man about a horse. It’s urgent, so will you please get out of the way?’
The car revved, backing up its owner’s request with a snarly growl of the engine.
Stevie stood rooted to the spot, doing a rabbit in the headlights impression, reluctant to relinquish her puddle, however sexy the voice was.
Suddenly the engine noise changed, and the vehicle began to reverse up the street, the driver finally losing patience.
‘No! Come back, I’ve moved. See?’ Stevie shouted, finally leaving the puddle and moving to the side of the road. She waved her arms frantically to attract the car’s attention, when, all at once, her legs shot out from underneath her body and she landed on her back with a sodden splash. Winded, she felt more than a little dizzy from the effects of too much alcohol and her head hitting the tarmac, and she lay immobile, spread-eagled on the road.
Leanne slid down the side of the car she had been leaning against and sat on the pavement, her legs stuck out in front of her. ‘Now, I really am going to wet myself!’ she cried. ‘And my stomach aches. It’s all your fault because you’re making me laugh so much.’ Leanne pulled at her sodden jeans, her squeals of laughter interspersed with hiccups.
Stevie hadn’t moved. She was happy where she was, thank you very much. She could stay here all night, watching the rain fall. Why was there so much water up there in the first place, anyway?
The car stopped its backward motion and, with a loud, ‘Aw, shit!’ the driver got out and raced up the middle of the road towards her.
Stevie remained on her back, watching what she thought must be shooting stars. ‘They are so beautiful,’ she mused, dreamily, watching the light catch the raindrops as they plummeted towards her face. I didn’t think shooting stars would be wet, though, she thought, and she stuck out her tongue to catch one.
‘Are you all right?’ the man asked, crouching beside her.
‘Uhgugh.’ Stevie couldn’t talk properly with her tongue protruding from her mouth. She felt strong hands patting her from her head all the way down to her feet.
‘Geogh!’ She grunted, as she tried to push the man away. His head was deflecting those tiny wet stars.
‘Oh, God! She’s having a fit!’ the man cried, and tried to roll her on to her side.
Stevie objected to this most strongly, and she drew her tongue back inside her mouth where it belonged and let out an almighty bellow.
‘Aaagggh!’ the driver of the car shouted in surprise. He shot backwards, lost his balance and sat in her puddle.
‘This one is mine,’ Stevie said, matter-of-factly, staring up at him with wide unfocused eyes. ‘Go find one of your own.’
‘What?’
‘Go away. It’s mine,’ she repeated.
‘Incoherent and rambling,’ the man muttered. He got to his feet. ‘Can you stand? I want to get you out of the rain,’ he said to her.
‘Can I stand what?’
‘What?’
‘Yes, what?’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Exactly,’ Stevie stated, satisfied she had managed to get her point across.
The man gave an exasperated sigh. ‘Are you hurt?’ he asked.
‘Nope. Can’t feel a thing.’
There was another sigh. He really ought to get that sighing seen to by a doctor, Stevie thought, as Leanne pushed past him and dragged Stevie’s arm, pulling her into a sitting position.
‘No! Don’t move her!’ he shouted.
‘I have to. I need a pee,’ Leanne said.
‘But she could be seriously hurt.’
‘Nah.’ Leanne hauled on Stevie’s arm, and Stevie clambered unsteadily to her feet.
‘Are you all right?’ the man asked again, peering at her.
Stevie burped loudly, then giggled. She leaned into Leanne, clutching at her for support. The world was definitely not as normal as it had been earlier on in the evening.
‘You’re drunk,’ her would-be-rescuer said accusingly.
‘Give him a gold star,’ Stevie said. ‘I’ll catch one for you,’ she offered, sticking her tongue back out. ‘Ish ee-hy, ook.’
The driver of the car snorted. ‘You two should be ashamed of yourselves.’ He turned back towards his car, the light from the street lamps illuminating his face.
‘Oh, it’s you,’ Leanne giggled at him. ‘Superman to the rescue.’ She thrust an arm into the air. ‘Hello, Nick.’ She squinted at him, her eyes still slightly crossed. ‘You’re wet.’
Nick glared at her. ‘It’s raining,’ he said.
‘Ooh, he’s clever, isn’t he?’ Stevie sang.
‘Oh, for Pete’s sake! Wait there!’ Nick strode back to his car, and both Stevie and Leanne watched as he got in, found a space and parked the vehicle. Then he got out again, strode up to the two women, grabbed each one by an elbow and frog-marched them both to the pavement.
‘Where are we going?’ Stevie enquired, pleasantly.
‘You are going home,’ Nick replied.
‘Don’t want to.’ Stevie stopped and dug her metaphorical heels in.
‘Tough!’
The nasty man pinched the tender flesh just above her elbow. ‘Ow! That hurts,’ she cried.
‘Good.’
Stevie studied his profile carefully as he dragged the two of them swiftly along the street, towards his car ‘It’s you, isn’t it?’ she panted.
‘Yes. It’s me.’
‘Thought so. And I’m me,’ Stevie announced.
‘Yes. I know.’
‘Good. So, we are all who we are spossed… suspossed to be. Good. I think. Maybe.’
They reached his car, and Nick opened the door. ‘Get in,’ he instructed.
‘Why?’ Stevie wanted to know.
‘Because I’m taking you home.’
‘There’s no point.’
‘Yes, there is,’ he retorted. ‘I can’t let you wander off in your condition.’
‘I won’t wander. Promise.’ Stevie made the sign of the cross.
‘Where do you live? I’ll drive you.’
‘No point,’ Stevie repeated.
Nick opened a rear door and pushed Leanne in. She went willingly enough.
‘Traitor,’ Stevie mouthed at her.
‘Leanne, where does she live?’ Nick asked.
Leanne pointed. ‘There.’
‘Where?’ Nick asked, squinting at the row of shops. Stevie squinted along with him.
‘The shea top. Shea shop,’ Leanne attempted.
‘Tea shop?’ Nick asked.
‘Yes!’
‘You stay here,’ he said to Leanne. ‘Don’t touch anything. You,’ he grabbed Stevie by the elbow, ‘come with me.’
He marched her along the street and stopped outside the tea shop. ‘Keys,’ he demanded, holding out his hand.
Stevie puffed a bit and stared forlornly at him.
‘Never mind.’ Nick patted at Stevie’s pockets.
‘Gedoff! I don’t do that on a first date,’ Stevie cried, slapping his hands away, but not before he had pulled a set of keys out of her jacket pocket.
He propped her up by the door and Stevie waited for him to search for the right key. The door opened on the second try, and he pushed Stevie inside, handing her the keys.
‘Go to bed,’ he instructed.
‘I told you, I don’t do that on a first date.’
‘Yeah, yeah.’ He shut the door, leaving her dripping on the mat. ‘I’ll take Leanne home!’ she heard him shout through the glass and she watched as he stomped off up the road.
She waved goodbye, her nose squashed against the window, watching him disappear into the rain-drenched night.
Then she staggered lopsidedly into the kitchen, climbed onto the pristine steel countertop of the island and went to sleep.