The Dating Detox by Gemma Burgess

exchange a quick look with Bloomie, but she’s still gazing at Eugene. Kate’s staring into space. I wonder what Jake is doing, and involuntarily look at the kitchen window. I only see Ant emptying a bottle of Diet Coke and a bottle of rum into the blender and pressing blend. Dickhead. I get out three cigarettes and light all of them, in my mouth, at once, then hand one each to Kate and Bloomie. An old trick from university. It’s so not cool that it’s almost cool.
    ‘Wow, you guys…you’re like the Pink Ladies,’ says Eugene.
    Oh, for God’s sake. ‘Wrong thing to say, darling…’ says Bloomie, laughing. He looks perplexed. ‘I’ll explain later…’ she adds, and they smile at each other happily. I wait for them to talk more, but they seem to be communicating through the medium of loving gazes.
    ‘Young love, huh, Katie?’ I say, turning away from the happy couple.
    ‘Mmmm,’ Kate says absently.
    Gosh, what a bunch of funsters.
    Bloomie’s BlackBerry rings, and the expression on her face changes from happy to stern so fast it’s like she’s swapping those comic/tragic drama masks. She hands Eugene her drink without speaking, answers it and barks ‘Susan Bloomingdale…’ as she walks away.
    ‘It’s 11 pm on a Friday!’ says Eugene, half to himself.
    ‘It’s probably the States,’ I say. ‘She works with the San Fran office a lot, right? Don’t you do the same sort of job, anyway?’
    He shrugs in his nonchalant Gallic way, and looks quizzically at us. Well, at me. Kate seems to have checked out for the time being, and is here in body only. ‘I’m an analyst,’ he says. ‘And I’m not obsessed with it.’
    ‘Neither is Bloomie,’ I say loyally, and slightly untruthfully. ‘She kind of gives everything 100%, that’s all.’
    Eugene nods.‘Well, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to the kitchen to get a drink. Can I get you anything?’
    ‘I’m all good,’ I say, glancing over at Kate, who’s still mute. ‘She’s all good, too.’
    I stand in silence for about 30 seconds, waiting for Kate to speak.
    ‘Kate,’ I say, taking a drag on my cigarette. She doesn’t respond. ‘Kate, I’m pregnant.’
    She’s in a trance. I sigh and look around the back garden. Everyone else is talking loudly or drinking messily. The noiselevels of the party seem to have doubled. The Killers are playing very loudly and I hear a whoop from the living room that probably means Mitch is doing The Worm across the carpet. The first houseparty of my Dating Sabbatical is suddenly turned up to eleven, and I’m completely unsure what to do with myself. I’m not even sure if I’m having fun anymore. Everything was fine till I met Jake.
    ‘Hello, trouble,’ says a voice behind me. I turn around. Oh, my God.
    It’s Rugger Robbie. My ex-boyfriend. Break-Up No.2. Fucking hell, I haven’t seen him in years. I thought he moved to Brisbane to be with the girl he met in Thailand. The girl he left me for.
    ‘Robbie!’ I smile, kissing him hello. I can’t pretend to be upset about it all, five years later. Especially when I’m not.
    ‘You look fantastic!’ Rugger Robbie says, looking me up and down very obviously. ‘How are you?’
    ‘Thanks,’ I say. ‘I’m great.’ He doesn’t look fantastic, so I can’t say it back. The fit rugby body has become a fat rugby body, and his face looks like someone has pumped it full of air from the cheekbones down.
    ‘So, Sass, what are you up to these days?’ he asks jovially, staring at my boobs. It’s most off-putting. ‘Still living in London?’
    ‘Yep,’ I say. ‘Are you back here on holiday?’
    ‘From where—Brisvegas?’ he asks. God, people who say Brisvegas are irritating. ‘Nah, I came home about six months ago.’
    ‘Is Kerry with you?’ I ask politely. That was her name.
    ‘Oh, no,’ he says, eyes flicking up to meet mine. ‘We broke up. I’m living with Riggsy and Martin again, just off Fulham Palace Road. It’s just like old