Thankfully, Max came back with their coats at that moment. Oliver frowned at the sight of him. “You’re leaving?”
Max handed Josie her coat and she slipped it on. “That’s my fault,” he said cheerily, a benign smile on his face. “I’m stealing her away.” Oliver actually glared at him then, before struggling to control his facial muscles. Max pretended not to notice. “Congratulations, by the way. New York—you must be excited.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Oliver mumbled.
“Surprised you didn’t bring it up the other day, when I mentioned New York.” Max raised his eyebrows in question, and let it hang in the air for a moment. “But then, I suppose I didn’t really let you get a word in, hey?” Max’s voice was perfectly friendly, the jibe so subtle that Oliver had no reason to get wound up. He flushed instead, and Josie felt impossibly grateful in that moment that she was not the most awkward one in their little trio, that the attention was very firmly off her and how she was taking the news.
“Babe—”
Josie turned to glare at Oliver as he followed them. She shook her head. “Don’t.”
He stopped in his tracks, but she could feel him watching them as they walked away.
Max bundled her out of the entrance hall, away from the allure of the domed, stained glass ceiling and straight into a car that was waiting outside for them. Clearly he’d taken the time to order an Uber at some point, though she hadn’t seen him do it. She stared out the window as they drove, not saying anything, happy just to let Max get her home, if that’s what he wanted to do. She wondered what he thought of her now, if he thought she was pathetic—losing her hotshot boyfriend who was off to swan around in New York, while she had to decide whether to take the crumbs that Janice threw at her feet. She thought again of his reaction, after she’d told him her parents had died. If he’d thought she was damaged goods after that, then this had certainly done nothing to alleviate that impression, now had it?
It took her a good ten minutes to realize they were not heading back to Streatham. She took her attention off the endless headlights and frowned over at Max, who was looking out the window. “Where are we going?”
“Just to a bar I know,” he said, with a glance at her. “I want to say a quick hello to the owner while I’m in London. Is that OK?” He said it all casually, like it had absolutely nothing to do with her, and she couldn’t help the smile that pulled at her lips.
“Sure,” she said, just as casually, not letting on how grateful she was not to be shipped back home. She didn’t think she could face it, alone in that flat, waiting for Christmas morning to creep in on her. Not just yet, anyway.
She gave up trying to figure out where exactly they were going—she wasn’t used to driving around London, sticking to the train and tube mostly, so it looked different from this angle, the landmarks all wrong. There were plenty of other cars on the road, people on their way back to their families before Christmas Day. Max made small talk with the driver and Josie allowed the conversation to wash over her like background music, the rise and fall of their voices strangely soothing. It was at least forty minutes before the car pulled over, down a little street off the main broadway.
“Thanks, mate,” Max said, and hopped out, holding the door open for Josie so she could shuffle out to avoid a puddle on the other side of the car. It was a moment before Josie realized that there was a small gathering of people down at the end of the street, huddled together under a lamp, their breath clouding together with smoke from their cigarettes. Josie hunched her shoulders against the cold as she followed Max toward them, to the building behind them, with subtle lighting in the windows, and a crooked sign above the door. It was a bar, she realized now, but the entrance was barely noticeable, so much so that you could have easily walked past and missed it, if you weren’t paying enough attention. She followed Max to the door, feeling like she was being led through some kind of secret entrance, away from the bigger pubs and excitement on the broadway.
She ducked her head under a wooden beam that she was sure must have seen a few casualties in its day as they made their way inside, then had to blink a few times to figure out exactly what kind of place they’d come to. There were three adjoining rooms, with the bar seeming to be in the middle one, dim lighting meaning there were plenty of secret corners to hide away in, the whole place giving off the impression that it was lit by flickering candlelight alone, which just couldn’t be true. The rooms seemed lopsided somehow, like they were on different levels, though there were no steps between them. Each room was relatively small, yet the place didn’t feel crowded, even though there were plenty of people here, the murmuring voices offset by classical music.