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don’t really, but you know...sometimes, I just...Well when I’m drunk anyway. It’s just this thing, no big deal.’
    ‘I thought Americans hated smokers,’ I said.
    ‘Yeah well in the privacy of your own home it’s nobody else’s business. I’m hardly a full-time smoker, it relieves the stress.’ He shrugged.
    It was the first thing he had told me that I didn’t already know. Although I was having a wonderful evening, I had to admit it was slightly bizarre.
    George handed me a vodka, I gulped it down.
    ‘Don’t you think it’s weird that we have revisited the past but not talked about the here and now,’ he said, sipping his drink.
    ‘I was just thinking that.’ I smiled, amazed at how in tune we still were. I remembered that we always seemed to think the same things, and always thought we had some kind of weird psychic link. We didn’t, as the distance between us proved, or if we did it was a connection that only worked when we were in close proximity. Actually I think it was just a result of the amount of time we spent together. Nothing more.
    ‘Maybe we should start by being completely honest,’ he continued. I looked at him, bemused. I must have been more drunk than I thought. Before I had time to reply, there was a knock on the door. George came back with his cigarettes. As he filled our glasses with ice and alcohol (I think it was gin this time), I took and lit one of the cigarettes. I felt unsettled, I was drunk; I needed nicotine. The atmosphere now was slightly charged. I had no idea at that point what had happened, but I was sure I was going to find out.
    ‘I am honest with you,’ I said after an age. We were both smoking and drinking.
    ‘Kid’s stuff, Hol, that’s what it is. Remember when we were young and everyone said we would end up together?’ I nodded. ‘Well haven’t you ever thought about it?’
    Now there was a question. Had I thought about it? Of course I had, I would be a liar if I said I hadn’t. But when I had thought about it, and that was an age ago, the answer had been no, categorically no. I loved George more than I’ve ever loved any other man but it was purely platonic. That was the one thing I had always been certain about.
    ‘George, I’m not sure where this is heading.’ I felt uneasy. He was knocking me off balance, pushing me over, trying to take our friendship into uncharted territory; no man’s land.
    ‘It’s leading to a kiss,’ he replied.
    As soon as the words were out, he leaned in and kissed me. I wanted to run away, because within a few seconds I had gone from having one of my best nights in ages to having one of the worst.
    But I didn’t stop him.
    I looked at him totally bewildered. I was trying to figure out my feelings, trying to discover why I didn’t put a stop to it. I felt sick, I was angry with myself, I was disappointed with both of us. Why did I let it happen ?
    It wasn’t a passionate kiss. It was just a kiss. The way he had looked at me told me that he felt the same. The mechanics were there; it worked as per kiss guidelines, but the magical ingredients which differentiate a kiss from a kiss were missing. Lips were functioning, tongues even made a brief appearance, teeth didn’t clash and saliva didn’t get out of hand. But there was no passion, no enjoyment, and certainly no pleasure.
    I lit a cigarette. It was amazing how easily I was able to slip back into being a smoker. As the room began to spin slightly I realised just how drunk I was. I felt as if I had lost control of my faculties. Desperately I needed to regain them.
    ‘Why?’ I asked. I felt nauseous, but I had no intention of being sick.
    ‘Holly, don’t sound so angry, it was inevitable. Remember when we first met, we were sworn enemies, but we became so close. We grew up together, we travelled together, we even lived together. Hol, there was bound to be some point where we had a physical encounter.’
    ‘A physical encounter? Shit George what has happened to