obediently. “But net, spasibo!” she declined, nodding at her half-full cocktail. “I’ve already got one.”
“Well, when that one’s finished, then,” the guy grinned, undeterred. “Consider it as payment for the Russian lesson.”
Nadia laughed. “Well, when you put it that way. I’m Nadia, by the way!”
“Matt.”
Nadia blinked. “Matt?” she echoed. “Seriously? Matt? MATT?”
“Er, yeah.”
“Your name is Matt?” she repeated again. “Genuinely? Matt?” She looked around herself suspiciously. “Has Caro put you up to this?” she asked him. Seriously, what were the odds?
“Er, no…” Matt looked at her a little less appreciatively and a little more as though she might be mental. “My name is seriously, genuinely Matt. Why? What’s wrong?”
Knowing that explaining about her fake visa boyfriend would just confirm any suspicions that she was crazy, Nadia just laughed again. “It’s a long story,” she brushed him off. “Nice to meet you. Matt.” She looked at him a little closer, mentally ticking off boxes as she noted his tallness, blondness, handsomeness… And he was called Matt. Finally, the universe seemed to be giving back; here was karma, wearing a Lacoste polo neck and drinking bottled lager. Delivery for Nadia, one boyfriend, please sign here.
“Hey!” Holly barrelled into her, grinning, sloshing cold drops of water onto Nadia’s bare arm from the melted ice in her empty cocktail glass.
Nadia glared at her friend, using her free hand to steady her arm, noting with interest that Matt had very gentlemanly done the same. “Hols,” she said warningly into her flatmate’s ear, raising her eyebrows meaningfully, “this is Matt.”
Holly ignored her, speaking over her to boot. “Look who I bumped into,” she laughed, pulling Alex from the Bellevue quiz out from behind her with a flourish, like a magician pulling something from a hat.
Alex
Time apparently flies when you're forced into awkward proximity with strangers you've semi-stalked to a bar. It was getting late and the crowds were thinning out, most leaving to either make the last Tube or to join the queue for the nearby nightclub before it reached pointless proportions. Caro and one of her fawning tagalongs had usefully commandeered one of the larger booths. Alex rested his head against the clammy leather, feeling the bass from the DJ’s speakers travelling through it to fizz against the back of his neck.
The longer he spent in Nadia’s company, the more he liked her. She laughed without covering her mouth, danced so energetically that her makeup smudged into the creases of her eyes and her hair stuck to her forehead. He’d danced with her for twenty minutes straight, in the thrum of the dance floor, only copying her movements at first and then simply just letting go and moving however he wanted to. He’d danced in a circle with Holly and Caro and the others, complete strangers, accepting the sips of various cocktails from proffered straws, the crash of the liquor and the sugar keeping him going until he was out of breath from all the shouting over the music and dancing and laughing.
Nadia was over by the rear bar, queuing in formation with Caro and Holly, hoping that surely one of them would reach service soon. Glancing over her shoulder, she must have noticed that Alex was looking over because she shot him a smile.
“So, how do you know them?” asked Matt, nodding towards the girls. Alex felt inexplicably annoyed by the question.
“Met doing a pub quiz,” he answered shortly, not feeling that there was any need to specify that the said pub quiz had taken place that very same evening.
“Ah, cool, cool.” Matt drummed his hands nervously against his thighs. Alex wasn’t even sure why this guy was still hanging around. His friends had left ages ago. “So.” Matt dipped his head conspiratorially. “What’s the deal here, with you and Nadia?”
“Deal?” Alex echoed, confused.
“You know,” Matt urged, glancing across at the bar, where the girls were still waiting to be served. “Am I stepping on any toes here? If I ask Nadia for her number and take her out, I mean.”
“Oh. The deal.” Alex blinked. “Don't worry about it. There’s no deal.”
“It’s just you guys seem like you’re close,” Matt explained, visibly relieved. “And she’s a really cool girl, I thought for sure there’d be someone cockblocking me, you know?”
Alex blinked again. “No. No cockblocking here.” He laughed to himself. “I get enough of that at home,” he confessed, loose-lipped from excessive cocktail consumption.
“You what?”
“My flatmate,” Alex clarified. “Cockblocker of the highest order. There's this girl, right? The girl of my dreams. We lost contact and then met up again." He lifted his hands expansively. “A year later and most nights I can hear him having sex with her.”
Matt winced. “Man, that sucks.”
Alex sighed, his good mood evaporating like the sweat off his skin now that he’d stopped dancing. “Yup,” was all he said.
Nadia
A Facebook Friend Request notification slid unceremoniously onto Nadia's mobile. She hadn't been wholly convinced she'd even receive one. When Alex had suddenly announced he was leaving Bison last night she’d asked him for his surname so that she’d be able to find him on Facebook. He’d smiled and said that he’d add her instead; she’d be easier to find, her surname being much less common than his. Matt’s Friend Request had arrived before she and Holly had even reached home that night. She’d been waiting on Alex’s all day.
Accepting the request, Nadia scrolled with interest through Alex’s profile. There wasn't all that much to see, unlike her own borderline-embarrassing page, full of selfies and check-ins. Alex was just as big an enigma to her now as he had been when she'd sat down at his table at the Bellevue. But still, there was something there, something drawing her in in the turn of his mouth as he laughed, or in the brittle sort of shyness he wore like a bad coat. She'd liked him.
After Alex had gone, Matt had taken Nadia out onto the dance floor for the final ten or so songs. It wasn’t the same as dancing with Alex had been. Matt held her by the hips, trying to make her move in time with what he was doing, whereas with Alex it had all been free and easy and they’d danced in careless synchronicity, even though their bodies rarely touched. And then he’d kissed her, for the entire second half of Nickelback’s ‘Rockstar’, which was nice, but also a little annoying, as it was one of her favourite songs.
Holly had been jubilant during their short walk home. “I can’t believe it,” she’d kept repeating, tipping her head back and shouting it up at the stars as if they were in on it. “I can’t bloody believe it! How much is this meant to be?”
Nadia had just laughed. “It’s just a coincidence. You’ve been watching too many bad films.”
“But WHAT a coincidence,” Holly had insisted. “Of all the names Ledge could have pulled out of his arse. And here he is! Your future husband! Conveniently British and conveniently called Matthew and conveniently well into you!”
“Hols,” Nadia had protested, laughing and pushing her friend on the arm. But her good humour was infectious.
“So when you guys kissed, did he taste like crumpets and cricket and cream teas? Or just like a visa?” Holly had asked, mock-serious.
“Holly!” Nadia had glanced behind them just to double-check that Matt wasn't somehow within earshot. “I don’t know what’s going to happen between me and Matt, but if he overhears you saying shit like that, I’ve got a pretty good guess that the answer will be ‘sod all’!”
“No, it’s meant to be. This is it, Nads – it’s what