Safely installed in the pub later Clare sat in front of a large glass of wine, a mountain of snacks and Vick. “I don’t know Vick – what am I doing? My job is crap, I am seeing someone who I should call it a day with; oh and lets not forget I have built an office reputation for having a big arse and being nice in one of the few places where this is actually a Bad Thing”
Vick snorted and flicked a peanut at Clare “Relax it’s not as bad as you think…and your butt isn’t that big, not as big as mine post wedding day diet at least. What’s going on with that “almost boyfriend” anyway?”
Grinning a tad smuttily Clare flicked a peanut back “Nothing, apart from in the bedroom where we don’t need to talk. I don’t imagine somehow that we’re going to be squabbling over wedding lists or even blummin’ shopping lists anytime soon”
Clare stuck her tongue out at her friend, she didn’t envy Vick her life really, and Clare wasn’t convinced sure that marriage was the answer she was looking for. But… she did envy Vick’s undeniable “sortedness”, if life was a series of check boxes Vick was merrily crossing them off, whilst Clare didn’t seem to know where she’d put the pencil.
After emptying the contents of the bottle into their glasses and scooping bacon frazzles Vick started to lecture, “I think your trouble is that you need a change; your job sucks but like it or not you are good at it, you’ve got a nice flat and busy weekends and you’ve got stuck. You basically need a push” she announced.
Deep down Clare agreed but it was just finding the push that came with a parachute that was the hard part. The trouble with doing nothing, she thought, is that it’s just too damn easy. You can go on and on for ages without realising that you still haven’t gone anywhere. Clare looked apologetically across the table “I know I am a whiny old bag and I promise I won’t moan on anymore. I didn’t think I was old enough but I seem to be having mid-life bloody crisis at 29…a nice holiday would do the trick I reckon’
With just a touch of wine fuzziness Vick smiled “That’s better. So when do you start putting that search engine talent to good use and grab yourself a life changing holiday?”
Clare stood up decisively
“First things first - we both need wine immediately. And more crisps”

------

3am and it wasn’t the sound of the phone ringing that awoke Clare in the end but the annoyed nudge of almost-boyfriend lying next to her "Are you going to answer that? It’s been ringing for ages?"
He sounded irritated which almost prompted Clare to ask why he hadn’t answered the bloody phone himself but even half asleep she knew why. ‘Bollocks’ she thought sleepily.
Shaking her head and sitting up from her warm comfy bed Clare struggled to get to grips with awakeness.
‘Fuuucck… what time is it and why is the frigging phone ringing?’
These questions muttered more rhetorically than anything else as almost-boyfriend had turned over stroppily and engaged in a moody imitation of sleep.
Clare groaned and rubbed her eyes. In the end she had stayed for a couple more than one with Vick and had even been uncharacteristically late for her date. Her stomach churned nastily with excess wine and the dinner she had pinged.
Moments later however the traditional – loud - brriing of her phone echoing round the small flat roused her to action. 3am phone calls were unusual and not necessarily welcome – she needed to get to the phone. Striding down her hall (not exactly many strides) Clare being Clare knew exactly where the phone would be but still managed to be in the kitchen just as the phone stopped ringing. ‘Fuck it, FUCK IT’ she exclaimed out loud.
Clare didn’t know exactly how her habit of loud swearing had grown; although she had a suspicion it had something to do with annoying her mum and being the sole output of a teenage rebellion. Whatever the reason it was a habit she now couldn’t kick and too many times to her detriment had a loud ‘bollocks’ escaped at an inopportune moment.
Silence crackled for a mere instant before the phone started again, Clare grabbed it. "Hello?"
Her voice neutral but also with a strong twang of ‘if this isn’t important I am going to be pissed off’.
When it was the operator that spoke and Clare had agreed with a wince that yes, she would accept the international reverse call charges - she was pretty sure it would be Tabitha on the line. Who else would ring endlessly at some ungodly hour and reverse the call? This call could be anything from "I really think I have found myself here - y’know?" to a wheedling plea for wired funds. Clare sat down at her tiny kitchen counter and prepared herself to be connected.
“Tabby” and Clare, a friendship born on the playground that had somehow survived boyfriends, life and each other. Fundamentally sensible Clare had been drawn to wild and outrageous Tabby whilst Tabby for her part found Clare’s sensible air amazing; how could someone make it seem that everything was possible with a to-do list? Tabby had been travelling over a year now and showed no sign of wishing to return yet, her job quit, rucksack packed and she was gone. Not forgotten though as there seemed to be a variety of crises, traumas and cute monkeys to keep her phoning home. It did sound like like fun though and occassionally Clare had even contemplated joining Tabby out there, life in the suburbs with a cosy flat, crappy job and no motivation, well it wasn't a blaze of glory really.
The phone line was noisy against her ear causing Clare to wonder where the bloody hell Tabby was this time, even the reception from Koh Samui beach had been clear as a bell. ‘Tabby, hello, is that you?’
The line was bad but tears were definitely part of the noise
"Clare, I haven’t got long to talk, please listen I promise this isn’t me on one of my melodramatic things"
At this a sob managed to sound loudly down the phone but Clare didn't try to interupt
"I’m in trouble…big trouble and they are talking about death penalties and trials and…’
As Tabby’s voice trailed away into snuffles and thick tears Clare thoughts were in overdrive, she knew that this incident may yet be one of over-exaggerated misadventure but her friend sounded truly distraught and in a Tabs-o-matic situation a large dose of common sense was always useful. Speaking firmly she took charge "Tabitha listen to me – stop and listen"
This approach seemed to work and Tabby had stopped crying encouraging Clare to carry on "Tabitha take a big breath and just tell me what’s happened s l o w l y…just stay calm for me and we’ll get through whatever this situation is". Too much silence now apart from the hissing line so Clare spoke bossily "Tabby, tell me where you are"
Finally her friend began to speak and Clare listened intently
"I have done something stupid...shit - I'm in Bali - in prison! They are talking about charging me with drugs trafficking or smuggling or something…I am so scared and don’t know what the fucking hell to do’.
Admittedly this did sound serious even for Tabby but Clare would die before she threw her hands in the air and panicked so she sprang into action instead.
It took a surprisingly short time to establish that Tabby was being held in a prison just outside Bali’s capital and that drugs, kind currently unknown, had been found in her luggage. She had been there for just a matter of hours after apparently being on route to Kuala Lumpar. More details emerged like Tabby being arrested before the plane had taken off, searched (‘Oh Clare, it was horrible!’) before eventually being placed in a prison named Kerobokan, a place that Clare had not heard of but judging from Tabby’s description it sounded about as welcoming as the Bangkok Hilton.
What Clare couldn’t work out yet was why the arrest had happenend on the plane or even what drugs had been found and she wished she could talk to the lawyer there with Tabby, first things first though and one important question remained
‘Tabby have you contacted your parents?’
There was a pause
"No I can’t – I mean there’s no way… they’d want to come out and dad’s not exactly in the best of health. If they came here and realised how much trouble I am in – I just know it would kill them"
Tabby dissolved into tears again
To Clare it seemed the arrest could be all over the news within days anyway but knowing what she had to do said the inevitable ‘I’m getting on a plane’.
Clare felt settled on her decision although a million on one things from ‘Holy Cow’ to ‘stop the organic veg box’ were already flying round her head. Tabby sounded comforted too “Clare, thank you. I knew you’d come and I am so grateful…I didn’t do it, I promise”
And just moments later the phone call was ended.
As silence once again echoed and Clare sat in her strangely normal kitchen she wondered whether the call had even taken place. Her head reeled with details which just raised endless questions, Tabby had "dabbled" in the past, but that didn't mean she would drug smuggle, did it? But how did anyone end up in this situation without having done something wrong? Clare was no stranger to stories that occasionally hit the news around backpackers and drug smuggling. The widely covered ones normally involved a tearful blonde, protests of innocence and 8kg of heroin. And Clare had always thought they were guilty.

Casting all these thoughts aside for now Clare looked up at the wall clock, 3:20am; time to get started.