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waved small groups of half-dressed women in ahead of him. Then he was ID-ed for good measure. Finally, feeling markedly insignificant, he was waved through to the darkness of the bar beyond.
    Bison was a long and narrow space, all done in dark, shiny wood with rows upon rows of bottles and optics gleaming on their backlit shelves behind the bar, harried-looking bartenders rushing between them. Alex looked for the paleness of Nadia’s hair in the darkness, but the open space in front of him had become an impromptu dance floor and he couldn’t see beyond the mass of whirling people. Doggedly he pushed through the dancers to reach the booths at the back of the room. A brunette in a red dress grabbed his hand and made him spin her around as she laughed, startling a laugh out of him too. Released by his impromptu partner, Alex moved into the clearer space beyond the dancers, still smiling. The energy drink and the bass from the DJ’s speakers felt as if it was drumming in his blood, making him feel as though he could do anything, be anyone, and as if, for once,he was meant to be exactly where he was.

    He clocked Nadia almost immediately, standing out in the gloom with her blonde hair and sky-blue dress. She opened her mouth and he could almost hear her laugh over the boom of the music track. The guy she was with was tall – taller even than Rory – and fair-haired, with the sort of artful stubble that would make Alex look as if he was homeless. The guy bent and spoke leisurely into Nadia’s ear, touching one of his hands to her hip in a proprietary way. And just like that, the evening’s buzz left his veins, and Alex was just the third wheel once again.
    Nadia
    The guy’s Russian was so appalling, Nadia couldn’t help but laugh.
    “ Zdravstvyite ,” she sounded-out the word for him.
    “Zurdraztevee,” he repeated into her ear, causing her to laugh again.
    “How long ago did you say this holiday to St Petersburg was?” she teased.
    “A while ago,” he admitted with a smile. “So, how would I ask you if I could buy you a drink in Russian, then?”
    Nadia shot him an amused look. “ Mozhno tebia ugostit ?” she answered obediently. “But net, spasibo !” she declined, nodding at her half-full cocktail. “I’ve already got one.”
    “Well, when that one’s finished, then,” the guy grinned, undeterred. “Consider it as payment for the Russian lesson.”
    Nadia laughed. “Well, when you put it that way. I’m Nadia, by the way!”
    “Matt.”
    Nadia blinked. “Matt?” she echoed. “Seriously? Matt? MATT?”
    “Er, yeah.”
    “Your name is Matt?” she repeated again. “Genuinely? Matt?” She looked around herself suspiciously. “Has Caro put you up to this?” she asked him. Seriously, what were the odds?

    “Er, no…” Matt looked at her a little less appreciatively and a little more as though she might be mental. “My name is seriously, genuinely Matt. Why? What’s wrong?”
    Knowing that explaining about her fake visa boyfriend would just confirm any suspicions that she was crazy, Nadia just laughed again. “It’s a long story,” she brushed him off. “Nice to meet you. Matt.” She looked at him a little closer, mentally ticking off boxes as she noted his tallness, blondness, handsomeness… And he was called Matt . Finally, the universe seemed to be giving back; here was karma, wearing a Lacoste polo neck and drinking bottled lager. Delivery for Nadia, one boyfriend, please sign here.
    “Hey!” Holly barrelled into her, grinning, sloshing cold drops of water onto Nadia’s bare arm from the melted ice in her empty cocktail glass.
    Nadia glared at her friend, using her free hand to steady her arm, noting with interest that Matt had very gentlemanly done the same. “Hols,” she said warningly into her flatmate’s ear, raising her eyebrows meaningfully, “this is Matt .”
    Holly ignored her, speaking over her to boot. “Look who I bumped into,” she laughed, pulling Alex from