Roommates (Roger Taylor/Queen)

18. Narrow Escape

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
'NARROW ESCAPE'

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AS THE EVENING WENT ON, THE SHY, INTROVERTED HEIDI WHO WOULD STAMMER AND WORRY SHE WOULD MAKE A FOOL OF HERSELF in front of the Scot sitting next to her, was soon no more. It was probably just the drink that was giving me the extra boost of confidence, and yeah, maybe I wasn't really being myself, but at the end of the day, if it meant I could speak to Colin using coherent sentences and not have to worry about saying something embarrassing, then it was worth it; even if I did, in my current state, I probably wouldn't notice, or even care, for that matter.

Anyway, conversation was alive and drink was flowing as the pub got busier, the room barely having enough space to accomodate most of its customers. By this point, I couldn't hear anything above the racket of people talking and the music blaring through the jukebox, but Colin and I were content in our own - surprisingly very private - little booth, chatting, laughing and drinking, as we seemed to get closer and closer to each other, with each and every drink.

'You smoke, Heidi?' Colin suddenly asked, removing his arm from the back of my leather seat and taking a lighter and a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket.

'What was that?!' I shouted over the noise, having not heard a single word he just said.

Rolling his eyes jokingly, he held the cigarettes up and repeated loudly in my ear, 'I said - do you smoke?'

'Oh. Um, no. No, I don't.'

The Scot smirked confidently, looking at me with glazed-over eyes, as he slurred, 'Ever thought about starting?

I aughed nervously and shook my head frantically, 'I-I really shouldn't, Colin, I...'

'Aw, c'mon, Heidi, one smoke isn't gonnae hurt. Live a little!' Colin chuckled, taking one of the cigarettes out of the packet and holding it out to me, 'You might find that you like it. Go on, give it a try.'

Staring at the death stick in my hand worriedly, I knew exactly how I felt about smoking, and so did people I'd criticised for it, like Roger, for example. So I became probably the biggest hippocrite on earth when I nodded in agreement to Colin's idea and and let him light the end of my cigarette, before taking the first short drag. Immediately, I started coughing, a burning sensation appearing in the back of my throat, as I regretted trying to impress him and quickly put the rest of the cigarette in the ashtray.

'I think I'll pass on becoming a smoker.' I wheezed, trying to get my breath back.

'No worries. It's not for everyone,' Colin chuckled, making me laugh as well which just made me cough even more, 'Hold on, I'll go and get you another drink.'

Getting up from his seat, Colin went over the the bar whilst I sat at the table and practically coughed my guts up for the next couple of minutes. When he finally returned with a glass of wine, I took it from him and downed it in a oner, the liquid clearing my throat, althought I was just thankful that I could actually breathe again.

'You alright?' Colin asked me, as I simply nodded in reply, 'Sorry about that, I hope I didn't pressurise you too much.'

'It's fine,' I waved my hand dismissively, 'I knew it was a bad idea. My own fault, really.'