Meanwhile, Back In The UK

John let himself into the flat – Eleanor had given him a key for when she had to work late. Everyone was coming over before heading out later, and she would probably change and meet them in The Red Oktobar after she had finished.
Probably.

Eleanor had been acting strangely lately. A bit moody, changeable even. She would be talking excitedly about plans for the weekend from Monday morning to Friday evening, and then at the last minute abandon all plans and stay in, curled up with vodka and a cushion, channel surfing on her enormous flat screen television. John had come back to find her this way twice in the past month, and he was a little worried. The thought came and went.

His shoes were wet from the rain and left small contorted foot-shaped puddles on the polished wooden floor of the apartment, but after a twinge of guilt he paid them no attention – they would dry by the time she got home. He heaved the bags of shopping through the living room into the kitchen. It was quite late in the evening, later than he normally got home on a Friday. He had some food shopping to do though, and he had just changed his supermarket. The Asda outside of town had started using biodegradable plastic bags, so John took a detour and did his shopping there instead of the normal Tesco Metro near the telesales office where he worked. He felt happy to be making a difference, however small.
Most of the shopping had ‘Tradefair’ logos and ‘Organic’ stickers on. John emptied the bags onto the granite work-surface and began sorting it out into the cupboards.

Bach’s Brandenburg Concerto No.5 playing in electronic tones was thumping out of his inside coat pocket. He flipped out his mobile and looked at the screen before answering. It was Eleanor.

“Hello?”
“Hi, are you done for the day?” her voice was bright and sunny.
“Yeah, ages ago. I got your shopping for you – it’s all there.”
“Oh cheers hon. I owe you one. What time are you guys heading out?”
“Probably about half eightish I expect. Any idea of when you’ll get out of that hellhole?”
“Well, the company’s had a good week, so that means more for me to do...er, maybe 9ish?”
“Do you want us to wait for you? It’s not that long.”
Eleanor began to speak and then stopped herself. She took quick breath.
“No, that’s fine. I’ll catch you up. I’ll get a taxi, that should speed things up a bit.”
“Okay, fine. See you later.”
“I know what you’re thinking. Don’t worry. I am coming out.”
“Good.”
“See you later.”
“Okay then. Take care. Don’t work too hard,” said John, and hung up.

*

John took a nervous sip, his eyes shifting quickly back and forth across the loose crowd below the balcony.

She wasn’t there.

He stopped himself from looking a second time. She knew they always sat upstairs. The chances of her walking straight up to the bar downstairs were tiny. Without her there, John couldn’t relax. The uncertainty that always hung over their relationship had risen in him to an unbearable tension. They had become too good at being friends, but the habits of a burgeoning almost-but-not-quite relationship had refused to die. It had left them in an emotional no-mans-land where John felt at a distinct disadvantage and Eleanor seemed to be in control. He loved spending time with her, and occasionally they would end up together at the end of a night out and his spirits would rise, only to fall asleep together fully clothed, all platonic barriers in place again by morning. Now she wasn’t coming out and even the mornings when they woke up crumpled in each others arms were getting fewer and fewer.

“Cheer up! You look really on edge!”
Adam wasn’t helping.
“Have you spoken to Ellie recently?”
“Not really, no, mate.”
There was almost no hesitation. Almost none. John had drunk a fair amount, and Adam was hitting the beers with all the gusto of a long week’s Friday, but the hesitation was still there.
“Have you got her anything special recently?” asked John.
“No more than usual.”
“Right.”
John took a long swig of his beer.
“Have you got some stuff for tonight?”
Adam nodded.
“Good.”

Mick was on the other side of the low table on the sofa with Nisha, making complicated gestures with his hands. She was laughing hysterically. Adam leaned away, and John felt alone. It was impossible to have a conversation without one person shouting in the other’s ear and then changing places, but the Oktobar had a wicked atmosphere on a Friday. It didn’t matter how tired you were, or how long the week had been, a few drinks above the laughing, shouting crowds and a few mates around, and the Oktobar could cure most ills.
Eleanor usually loved it.

*

John stared upwards into the light drizzle they had been walking in for almost a quarter of an hour. The shape of Eleanor’s apartment block was lit against the sky, but he couldn’t see any lights on. It was just after 3am.
“Come on mate! I can’t remember the code for the door,” called Mick from under the eaves of the building. Nisha was hanging grinningly off his right arm. Adam was standing, shoulders hunched in his huge coat, just under the overhang above the doors.
“Sure, yeah, sorry,” called John.
He walked up and prodded the code into the keypad. The door buzzed and Mick and Nisha fell through the door. Nisha began laughing again.
Eleanor was a long time answering the door, and when she opened it she was rubbing her eyes. John stopped as the others trooped in past her with quick greetings. She was wearing light cotton pyjama trousers and a grey top. She was barefoot.
“Are you okay?” he asked. This close he could see that her eyes were bloodshot. She went on tiptoe and kissed him deeply on the mouth, and nodded. John grinned at her.
They followed the others into the lounge. Nisha was opening a bottle of wine on the long purple sofa, and Mick was rifling through Eleanor’s cupboards muttering about coffee. Adam was looking for something in the pockets of his coat while browsing through Eleanor’s impressive music collection for something to put on.
“What’s up, Mickey my lad?” asked Eleanor as she padded into the kitchen.
“I’m knackered, and I really need some coffee. How are you?”
“I’m cool. Where’ve you put the coffee John, you deranged coffee-hiding fool, you?”
She was leaning up against him and he could feel her breasts on his chest as she smirked up at him.
“Right hand cupboard. I thought that’s where you always put your coffee?”
“I’ve looked in there. There isn’t any.”
Eleanor kissed John again and leant on him some more. She put her arms around him.
“Yeah there is, but it’s in a black round jar...doesn’t look much like a coffee jar.”
“So you didn’t hide it, but you gave it a disguise?” said Eleanor, gazing into his eyes and smiling still.
John was thinking fast. Maybe she had finally made a decision about things after all? Maybe that’s why she had been so quiet for the last couple of weeks? Maybe all she needed was some time to think about it all. Things might actually be okay. He smiled at her and went to kiss her for the first time. She didn’t protest. He looked up at Mick who gave him a thumbs up behind Eleanor’s back before reading the back of the coffee jar.
“What made you get this then mate?” said Mick to Eleanor.
“I didn’t get it – John did some shopping for me earlier,” said Eleanor.
“It’s the new coffee from Tradefair,” said John. “Thought I’d try it out.”
“Giving a fair deal to the coffee growers of South America, supporting them in their businesses and bringing you a unique, rich coffee that proves quality coffee doesn’t have to mean losing your humanity,” Mick read aloud. “Nice.”
John nodded.
“Ellie, can I borrow your credit card? I only brought cash out with me tonight,” said Adam from the small coffee table.
“Yeah sure. My purse is on the side there,” she pointed.
“I’ve got a twenty,” said Mick, reaching into his pockets.
“This always feels so much classier when you do it with a platinum credit card.”
John and Eleanor walked over to the small coffee table where Adam was using a fine white powder to make one long line that ran around half the rim. When he had finished he licked the inside of the small plastic bag the powder had come in.
“You first mate,” said Mick, handing the note, rolled and with an elastic band around it, to Eleanor. “You’ve had a hard week, by the sounds of it.”
“Cheers,” said Eleanor as she took the note and bent over the table.