Elle was in a particularly bad mood when I came home from yoga with Bert.
"Oh, Christ, now you're on drugs too?!" she exclaimed, tossing a book at me.
"Yoga has nothing to do with drugs." I smiled and exhaled slowly. "It's like having sunshine in your veins."
"I read an article about the stuff- it's very dangerous," Elle said. "Listen to you, you're becoming one of them. You're going over to the other side. The land of sandals, spoon-benders and yogurt fanciers."
"Don't be ridiculous, Elle. I think Elise looks fab," Bert said. "She's the most flexible person in the whole class."
I grinned. There was a reason for that. And his name is Ben.
Since Leo and I had quietly decided to break up (we both found out we were shagging other people), I had been seeing various men. My relationship with Leo was the longest one I'd had since middle school and I felt tied down (even when I was being tied down by someone who was not Leo). So, I had been taking advantage of my new-found freedom and seeing as many men as possible.
And Ben, our yoga instructor, had become my new playmate.
We'd gone out for drinks at a trendy juice bar after my first class and that night I found out exactly how flexible I could be. It was crazy. And because Ben is fantastic and wonderful and everything a man should be, we decided to keep things casual. He can see other women and I can see other men. And things are going brilliantly.
I leaned against Elle's desk. "So, have you thought about where you'd like to go for our little vacation?"
"Yes, actually," Elle said, sitting up straight in her chair. "I have spent hours and hours thinking about where we should go and I've made a decision."
"Wow," I said, "you must really have had a change of heart. So, where would you like to go?"
"To the pub across the street. And no further."
After yoga class the next day, Bert and I were just strolling in the park, both of us feeling very relaxed. Him, because he honestly enjoyed yoga and I, because I'd just had a quickie with Ben in his office while Bert was changing out of his unitard.
"If I were any more relaxed, you could just pour me into a bowl," Bert said. He looked at me. "You've given up smoking, haven't you?"
"Of course, I have," I said. That statement was almost true. I'd stopped smoking completely... besides post-coital cigarettes, but that's different.
We headed back to the shop and noticed a sign being put up across the street from Whyte Books, right beside Black Books.
And that's when the noise started.
"Hey Elle," Elise yelled half-way across the self.
"Wot?" I replied, hardly bothering to look up at her from the book I was trying to read. She bounded over to my desk and plopped herself into the chair next to me.
"I've been thinking..." she started, propping her elbows up on the desk, while resting her chin on her knuckles.
"That's dangerous to your health."
"... and I believe I've decided what to do with the rest of the money you gave me for Chrimbo," she finished, barely even taking notice that I had insulted her.
She still hasn't spent all the damn money?
I sighed heavily, slammed my book shut and plucked a cigarette out of the open package on the desk.
"An' wot's that?" I asked, leaning forward as she lit the ciggy for me.
"We'll go on holiday! The three of us! No customers, no creatures, no... no competition; no nothing," she replied, looking hard at me for a facial response. She didn't get one. "Anyways, I've been looking at websites and visiting travelling agencies..."
"What about the shop?" I asked suddenly, surprising myself a little.
"Oh, we could get Penny to look after it or something. Anyways..."
"Ah, yes, Penny," I replied, uncertainly.
Who in the name of Beezlebub's shorts is Penny?
Ten minutes later, Elise was showing me pamphlets of holiday destinations, while I was still trying to think of who the hell Penny was.
"This place here would be perfect! See here, it says there's a beach, a jungle and the only English bookshop...," she began to say, when Bert burst in the front door, startling customers with his flashy tracksuit.
"You'll never believe who's in my yoga class!" he blurted, sitting himself down daintily in the chair in front of the desk.
He didn't even give me time to reply. Lousy bugger. "Fran!" he exclaimed, slapping his hands down on the desktop, making Elise, myself and the computer moniter jump at the same time. He glanced between the two of us, waiting for a reply.
"Ahh, that's g-," was all Elise got out before the walking disco ball leant over the desk and plucked the cigarette right out of my mouth and dropped it into my glass of wine.
"What the HELL is wrong with you?!" I yelled, grabbing the glass.
"Smoking and drinking is really bad for you. Your chakras are all over the place, Elle! You need to relax and..."
"Your chakras are to be hanging out your nose if you try that again!" I growled at him. He looked slightly startled, but that didn't stop him from continuing his preaching.
"Penny and Eva said that...," he began, but I had had it.
"Just who the bleedin' hell is Penny?!" I shouted, thumping the glass back down on the desk, sloshing ashy wine all over my book and some of Elise's pamphlets.
"Penny's his girlfriend," Elise informed me, gathering up the pamphlets that weren't soggy and attempting to salvage the ones that were.
"Girlfriend?" I echoed.
"Yeh," Bert replied, smoothing out the front of his tracksuit. "She's a bartender at the club I work at."
"Oooooo, Penny. Penny. Penny Penny Henny."
"Come on Elle, you're being childish."
"Am not."
"I think if you tried yoga, you may be able to see the lighter side of life," Bert stated, smugly.
"I'm not trying your yogi," I retorted, picking up my book and shaking it.
"Yo-ga."
"That neither."
"Let me get this straight," Inspector O'Hoolihan said in a thick Irish accent, peering at us all from under his hat. "This guy ran in, put a knife to 'dis here guy's troate, 'dis here lady hit 'im over d'head wid dis here fryin' pan and dats how 'e died."
Elle, Bert, Fran and I all exchanged looks. "Yes, sir."
Maybe the irony was lost on everyone else, but I found it quite amusing that this member of England's Scotland Yard was Irish.
"And wot about 'deese here marks on 'is nipples? Wot is that all aboot?" He raised an eyebrow, specifically at Bert.
"...Why do you look at me when you say that?" Bert retorted.
I cleared my throat. "I used to have this friend who would pinch his nipples. He did it all the time. I guess it's a kind of confidence builder." I nodded wisely and pretended I knew exactly what I was talking about- I didn't.
Fran, who was quite drunk, asked if she could leave and take her car back across the street. Inspector O'Hoolihan nodded and she stumbled off.
After the Inspector and the rest of the policemen (and the coroner) left, I slumped down at the kitchen table and put my head down. "Guys. Let's not do that again."
Bert rested his face in his palm. "Agreed." His eyes lowered to his own chest. "Excuse me, I have to go do something."
"Where's he going?" Elle asked me, leaning against the counter.
"I'm almost positive he's going to his room to pinch his nipples."
"Wouldn't doubt it."
I rolled my head to the side. "So, Elle, you still want to have a bistro, even though it might cause us to kill somebody again?"
Elle dug around in the fridge and pulled out a bottle of wine. "I was saving this for after we had our grand opening... but this is as good a time as any." She guzzled from the bottle and slid it across the kitchen table to me.
I looked at the label. "Wow. Fifteen quid." I nodded in approval. "So fancy." I took a few big gulps.
And then a few more. And then Elle had several more.
I woke up the next morning in a puddle of my own vomit... but at least it was in my home and not prison.
