Out Late with Friends and Regrets by Suzanne Egerton Read Free Book Online Page B

and the Bridge Street multi-storey are about it, I’m afraid. I don’t have a satnav – I’ve never needed one, but I seem to remember the one-ways are a nightmare.”
    “Too right.   OK then, Jetsam’s is in Bramerton Street, right by the university – dump the car in the NCP, cross over into Dixon Street and keep heading for the river. It’s left at the war memorial and Jetsam’s is right there, just past the big old printworks sign on the gateways.   You can’t miss it,” said Ellie.
    “Is it- a gay club?”
    “Harford doesn’t have a gay club as such – well, there’s a grubby little bar near the river that some of the guys use as a pick-up joint, but that’s just a dive.   Jetsam’s is the nearest thing – most of the college crowd go there, and anyone a bit bohemian or different.   That includes us rainbow ravers, of course!”
    “Sounds great!”
    “You get a lot of people-watchers from all walks of life in there, too.   Be prepared for live theatre, darling!   The clientele is a real mixture, to say the least.”
    “I can’t wait.   Any particular table?   Or at the bar, or where?”
    “Ah, now.   It’s on three floors – a huge print works in the old days.   The basement’s a disco – very noisy; we’d better meet on the ground floor.   We’ll get a quiet table away from the jukebox and be able to talk, OK?”
    Ellie sounded as if she were about to ring off.
    “Ellie – how will we know each other?   Should I wear a green carnation, or something?”
    Ellie chuckled.   “No, tell you what, carry a copy of the Big Issue.   No.   No, don’t.   Just sit somewhere and I’ll find you.   A little challenge for me.   Got to go, darling, my other phone’s ringing.   Saturday, then.   ’Bye!”  
    And that was it; the first step.

CHAPTER 5
     
    Saturday didn’t come.   Well, it did, of course, eventually, as Saturdays tend to, but it was a grindingly slow week.
    “I don’t imagine for a minute that I’ll find a life partner in Ellie,” she told Rosemary on the phone, “but she sounds as if she could make a few introductions – oh Rosie, I’m so excited!”
    “Well just be careful, won’t you, Fee?” said Rosemary, “This Ellie sounds OK, but keep your head, all right?”
    “If that’s code for ‘Don’t get drunk and do something really stupid,’ I promise I’ll do my best,” Fiona assured her.
    Thinking of the few quiet bars and restaurants in Cantlesham, she formed an exotic picture of Jetsam’s in her mind’s eye.   Fishing out the Harford A to Z, she looked up Bramerton Street and studied the map, trying to suck pictures from the grids and symbols.   Yes, that little stump of a turning off the street must be the gateway into the yard of the former printworks that Ellie had mentioned.
    She booked a room at a B&B in Dixon Street, so she could have a lie-in on the Sunday morning. Then, some thought must be given to her appearance. What did an aspiring lesbian wear to make a good first impression? Smart casual, she decided, with boots for a little extra height. She would try the new girl at Cantlesham Cutz, ask for a shorter, edgier hairstyle. And dye it red, why not. Red hair was in her genes after all; she just hadn’t been lucky enough to inherit it. No bag, except the holdall she would drop off at the B&B on her way.   She preferred pockets, anyway, and there was a nifty little pouch for her phone in the lining of her jacket.
     
    Jetsam’s was busy, even at this early hour.   The décor appeared to have been kept deliberately industrial and basic, with a metal staircase to one side, and the bar forming a long rectangle beside it.   There were oversized pipes and conduits across the ceiling, and the tables were topped with the same patterned pressed steel as the treads of the stairs.   Black and yellow safety tape here and there added a little colour to the uncompromising grey and silver scheme.
    The customers, however, had apparently