Three Men On Tour: 28

The lights pulsed in time with the music. Harry was dominating the dance floor, I was at the bar collecting another round of drinks. Over in the corner, I could see George holding forth. When I had left him, he had been in full flow to a quorum of fascinated delegates about the relative benefits of staged development versus the waterfall methodology. We still had no idea what the conference was about.

“Hello again.“ I jumped, startled by the voice and found myself trying to juggle three full pints. The blonde watched me in amusement. Eventually she took pity on me.

“Here let me help you.“

Her voice had a lilt I hadn’t noticed earlier. I liked Irish accents. They put me in mind of trickling streams, and sunny hills, and for some reason Highlander which was completely the wrong country. I let her take a pint from me, then allowed myself to smile back at her.

“You disappeared earlier,“ I said.

“Yeah, well, your friend seemed angry about something and I thought it best to leave you to it.“

We both glanced over at Harry on the dance floor. He was thrashing wildly to Nirvana.

“Is he dancing or is he just still angry,“ asked the girl. I smiled, put down one of the beers, and held out my hand.

“Ian,“ I said.

The girl smiled back. “Elspeth.“

We shook hands, which felt oddly formal but I couldn’t think of anything else to do.

“So are you really with the conference, or are you just scamming free drinks?“ She came straight out with it. No build up, no searching questions. I looked at her in shock.

“What makes you think I’m not with the conference?“

“Oh, so you’re definitely a delegate?“ Her eyes were shining with amusement.

“Um, yes?“ I said tentatively.

“Okay, in that case what’s the phalange coefficient of a left chiral bearing joint?“

I thought for a minute before realising there was no way I was going to come up with a sensible answer to this one.

“Um, five?“ I hazarded. Elspeth almost laughed out loud.

“Alright,“ I admitted, “I have no idea. I don’t even know what a flange whatjamacallit is.“

“Neither do I,“ grinned Elspeth, “I made it up. But I had you fooled, and if you really were a delegate you’d have called me on my bullshit in about five seconds. Besides, I already knew you weren’t a real delegate.“

My heart clenched. I’d been rumbled. I sighed and looked sadly at my pint. I was only a third of the way in.

“How did you work it out?“

“Well, apart from the fact that you’ve gone for fully five minutes without patronising me, and we’re actually having a halfway interesting conversation I’d say the real clue came when you told me your name was Ian, while your name badge tells me you’re Leslie.“

I felt like an idiot. I was supposed to be good at this. I’d seen ‘The Great Escape’ 22 times.

“Are you going to make me leave?“

“Leave?“ She giggled and her eyes twinkled in the disco light. “You’re the most fun I’ve had since I got here.“

“Can I…buy you another?“ I suggested, waving vaguely towards the free bar. The girl nodded, and held out her glass for a refill. For a moment our hands touched and when her eyes met mine I realised just how much trouble I was in.