"What are you hiding from?" Comes a voice from behind me, and for a few seconds, a smile appears on my face as I reply; my worsening mood is lifted momentarily. "Temptation"

"Ah" she says, far too knowingly for my liking. "So you thought an alcohol problem was better than a gambling one?"

"It's cheaper" I argue glumly, staring into the bottom of my glass as she orders herself a drink.

"Lonely too"

I raise my eyebrows. "Speaking from experience?"

She sidesteps the question skilfully, a dry undertone appearing in her voice. "It was merely an observation."

"Of what?" I ask bitterly. "I'm not drunk yet."

"I can see the signs" She says perceptively and I look up sceptically. "Oh yes?"

She holds out her fingers, crossing them off as she speaks. "Bitterness, self-pity and the misguided belief that a vice helps things."

"It's been making me feel a hell of a lot better" I dispute ill-temperedly.

She waves my statement away as nonsense. "Temporary."

"Can you suggest a more permanent relief?" I ask despondently and she sighs with exasperation. "What's eating away at you? You may as well tell me, I'll get it out of you eventually."

I look up to find humour shining in her eyes. What the hell. "I've been going on and on to Jess about the mistake she's making, and I've just realised what a mess I've made of my own life."

She laughs softly. "You've only just realised?"

I cant help but laugh, and she smiles with satisfaction, one of her aims now complete. "Refill?" I ask, wondering how long her 'Helping the Lonely' programme would last.

"Why not" She says flippantly, "Looks like you could do with the company."

I hold up my hands. "Don't stay on my account. I'm perfectly happy to be left to dwell on my regrets alone. This is all I need" I lift up the drink and she shakes her head, before sitting down opposite me. "Lets hear it then"

"What?" I ask, baffled.

"All this "mess" you've made of you're life."

"I wouldn't know where to start" I say woefully and she rolls her eyes in exasperation. "Oh pull yourself together will you. Whatever it is, it can't be that bad."

"Believe me, it is." I say soberly, staring into my glass dismally.

"I bet I could top it"

"I would have to disagree with that."

"Go on then" She says with a smile. "Prove me wrong"

"With pleasure" I say deliberately, holding up my glass. "But first, we need more of this."

I order a round, and begin the tale gloomily. "Ok for a start, I've hit fifty"

"You're fifty one."

"Thanks for pointing that out."

"Surely you've come to terms with it by now. Anyway, I'll be forty soon, you have no idea how sobering that is." She says grudgingly, and I smile.

"Having been there and done that, I think I have some experience in the matter."

"It's different for you." She argues, taking a sip of her wine, and I laugh. "How?"

"Well for a start you don't look fifty."

"No I'm sorry Connie, you aren't having that one because there's no way on this planet you look any older than thirty five, and I'm decidedly middle-aged."

She smiles playfully, a realisation hitting her. "That's what this is about isn't it? Ric Griffin's idea of a mid-life crisis."

"Actually, I've been there done that too."

She sighs. "Is there anything you haven't done?"

Ignoring the question, I continue with my increasingly depressing account of my mistakes, old and new. "Since you brought it up, my little gambling problem. You've got nothing that'll top that."

"Well that depends doesn't it." She says secretively. "How much did you lose?"

"In total?" I ask, stalling for time and she nods. "Mmm."

"No comment."

She laughs lightly and doesn't press the issue. "Drink?"

I nod, and watch her with a captivation that I rarely feel as she walks to the bar purposefully, charming her way to the front of the queue and dazzling the barman with her smile. Looks like my plans of slowly depressing myself into an alcoholic grave are going to be slightly more interesting than I first thought.