Inevitably, I am a little bit nervous about meeting Diana at the gig. I know I shouldn't be, because the pub is one I know quite well, and it was my idea to ask her, and our group will be all people that I know well and like and feel comfortable with. In fact, if anyone would expect to feel out of place, it should be Diana. Nonetheless, I take a great deal of care to make sure that I look casual. Nice, but casual. (Black jeans, pretty red and cream top, denim jacket, boots under the jeans, hair loosely pinned back.)
My housemate, her boyfriend and I meet Sandra and her husband at the pub about an hour before the band is due to start, so we can have a drink. Both Sandra and my housemate realise that I'm fretting about Diana turning up, and reassure me about how I look. Lizzie flops in just as we'd given up hope on her, and makes for the bar. I join her there, and she moans about how she was late being taken off her lunchtime shift in the pub, but Lizzie's work woes are a comfort to me. They let me distract myself from the fact that I've invited Diana to this night out and made ready to meet her and she still isn't here. I've gone from being nervous and slightly regretting asking her, to being quite cross that she hasn't bothered to turn up. Lizzie digs me in the ribs as we turn away from the bar and make our way back to our table. 'Cheer up, Fi. There's loads of time yet.'
Sure enough, Diana arrives a little later. I can't really see the door from my seat, so it's only when Sandra pats my knee lightly and says, 'Here we go. She's here,' that I realise. I twist round on my seat, and I'm slightly disappointed in myself at how relieved and pleased I am to see her stand in the doorway and look around. She notices the movement, and smiles as she starts over towards us. I give her a little wave. I'm pleased she's come, but suddenly I also feel very awkward. This is a kind of date, but we're also with my friends, and Sandra knows Diana very well from work. The dynamics of this evening are going to be very interesting, I think, not entirely happily.
I start to stand up, but Diana waves me back down onto the seat. Her eyes run casually over me and I wonder what she thinks of my outfit. She rests her hand lightly on the back of my chair, just touching my shoulder. 'Hello, Fiona. Don't get up.' She smiles at me, and I think the smile looks a bit curt. Then I realise that she's probably not entirely comfortable either, and that makes me feel a lot better, because suddenly I can worry about her instead of me. She looks round the others. 'Hello, all.'
'Um, Diana. This is Paula, my housemate, and Martin.' They all smile at each other. 'And Lizzie, from the pub yesterday.' Lizzie tips her glass at Diana as she sucks through her straw. 'Guys, this is Diana. From work.'
'Sandra,' says Diana, smiling at her secretary. 'Bill,' she says to Sandra's husband. 'You well?'
'Not bad, thanks.' Diana and Bill nod at each other in a distant but friendly way.
There's a little moment when things could just begin to feel a bit awkward, but Diana rubs her hands. 'Right, then. I'm going to get a drink.' She nods around the table. 'Anyone else, while I'm there?' There's a little kerfuffle while everyone declines Diana's offer politely, but is reminded that it might be a good idea to get one in before the band start. So Bill, Diana and Martin all end up heading for the bar together, to get us all another drink between them. In a way, I realise, that's quite a good thing because, like Martin, Diana is one of the 'partners' of the party tonight, one who's breaking in to our group, as it were. I hope Diana finds a bond with him, as a way to feel comfortable with the rest of us. I know that it can be difficult to come in as the new person to a group of existing friends. The fact that Diana is Sandra's boss doesn't help matters either, but it might at least help that the two of them and Bill are around the same age, so she doesn't feel out of place on that front either. I watch Diana and the blokes together at the bar, and realise I'm worrying for nothing, really. The three of them appear to be talking in short bursts, like strangers do at first, but at least they're talking and wanting to keep the conversation going.
Sandra leans over and pats my knee again. 'Fi, stop worrying. If anyone can make herself at home in a group of complete strangers, it's Diana. And we're not even strangers.'
I sigh. 'Am I that obvious?'
Lizzie giggles. 'Pretty much, babes.' I look at Paula, and she nods too. Lizzie looks serious for a moment. 'Relax, Fi. If you're cool with everything, she will be too. If you keep worrying, she will too.'
Sandra smiles. 'Well, I think Diana wouldn't worry so much, probably just get irritated. But, yes. Lizzie's right, Fi. Just relax and enjoy yourself.'
Lizzie cocks her head and looks over at the bar reflectively. 'She looks great in those jeans.'
I have to agree. They're fitted, a dark blue denim. For the first time, I can fully appreciate quite how good Diana's figure is, instead of just getting hints through her work suits. And it's a good figure anyone would be proud of, never mind someone in her mid-forties. I catch myself staring at her tight arse in the tight denim, and try to hide my open interest by taking a mouthful of cider. I can't help looking again, though, shortly afterwards.
***
Lizzie gets up and swaps seats with me, so that Diana and I can sit together at one corner of our table. Diana does well by sitting close enough to communicate her interest in me while actually pretty much ignoring me and talking to the others – to prove that she's not going to swan in to our night off and take me away from them all, I suppose. I don't mind, because she has an easy ability to chat with everyone, to listen, to keep up with, and respond to, the flow of conversation. And when things flag, she chips in with a comment that sets someone off again, before sitting back to watch and listen. I watch her with a quickly mounting sense of admiration at how she carefully manages to give everyone a say, but keep the overall atmosphere light and convivial. Very much like the way she chairs a meeting at work, in fact, but with everything subtly adjusted to reflect the fact that it's a social setting.
I notice her glass is getting low, and rest a hand on her arm. I'm very pleased when she leans over and lets me talk quietly into her ear. 'Do you want another one? It's my round.'
She looks at me, and smiles. The others are, for the moment, all fully engaged in laughing about something Martin has said. For a split second, Diana's eyes tell me that she really wants to be somewhere with just me, just the two of us, and I hold my breath at how nice it feels to realise that. She glances over at the corner, where the band are drifting towards their instruments. 'Yes, thanks. Get me a large glass, though, if you would? Pinot Grigio.'
Lizzie tries to give me some money for hers too, but I wave her down and make my way to the bar. When I glance back as I'm waiting for the barman to finish pouring my half, I catch Diana's eye, and I have the distinct feeling she'd been checking me out. I smile, and she smiles back. I feel very happy.
***
When the band start up, we all drift away from our table and take up positions standing in various places to see and hear better. Diana and Martin (who plays guitar for fun) have started a fairly technical discussion on blues-rock (which this band promise to play), so they stay with each other, leaning side-by-side against the wall not far from our table. Paula and I shrug at each other and collect up our stuff to go and stand with them. Paula cuddles up to Martin, who slides his arm round her waist even as he keeps talking to Diana. Diana subtly moves backwards, to make room for me to apparently stand in front of her and next to Paula, without making it obvious that she and I also form a couple. Nevertheless, I feel her hand, where she's hooked it into the pocket of her jeans, rest against my bum. And she doesn't move much when I lean slightly against her.
Sometimes, she takes her hand away to wave it in the air while she's demonstrating something to Martin, but it does tend to return to her hip, where I can feel it too. Paula and I chat to each other as well, and again I feel happy, because it feels like we're just two couples at a pub gig. When I do glance back at Diana, I find it difficult but exciting to hold, all at once in my mind, everything that she is to me: not just a colleague, not quite a lover; someone who is infuriating, fascinating, fun to be with, but so difficult to understand, sometimes; someone I want to be with alone at that moment; someone who has impressed me deeply by how easily she's made herself comfortable with my friends.
***
The whole evening goes really well. Paula and Lizzie and I have a talk about it in the toilets at one point, and they both say that Diana is great fun. Much nicer and more interesting than either of them had imagined.
Sandra catches me later and strokes my arm tipsily. 'She's so different, Fi. I don't think I've ever seen her like this.' She giggles.'It's like she's an actual real person. Please get together with her. You are such a great couple.' She stumbles slightly for no reason. 'Whoops. I'm pissed. Seriously, though...'
***
The various couples start to drift away by the end of the night. Bill and Sandra get a taxi. Martin walks Paula back to his flat. Lizzie is deep in flirty conversation with the bar manager, possibly trying to negotiate a job. I check if she wants me to wait, but she shakes her head, so I leave her to it.
Diana and I make our way out of the pub and start walking. Our ears are still ringing a little from the music, so we're quite quiet. She wonders about getting a taxi, but I suggest we walk – it's not very far to hers, via mine, and I want the time to ourselves. We stand talking on our doorstep for a while, until she agrees to come in for a coffee.
There is a definite hint of sexual tension between us, but something stops us from acting on it. I'm not sure what or why, I was kind of hoping that getting her into the house would move things on a bit. But she seems in no hurry, and we sit on the sofa and talk quietly and sip coffee. We talk about the gig, about music, about the others, about work and college and life in general. We sit close enough to allow our shoulders and arms to touch, but don't go any further.
Eventually, she gets up and lets me see her out. In the doorway, she leans in, and I like the feel of her lips near my cheek, her breath in my hair. 'Thanks for tonight, Fiona. We should definitely do this again.' She nudges her nose gently up my cheek, then squeezes my arm and steps out into the night.
It's the closest we get to a kiss all night, and it leaves me gently throbbing with desire for her, as I watch her make her way down to the end of the road.