42
Nine-thirty, and the party was in full flow. Hannah needn’t have worried about her guests not showing up. There were at least fifty of her school friends in the pub enjoying themselves. Instead of forking out for a DJ, she’d opted for loud music provided by the pub’s jukebox that could be adapted. Eddie had it on random ‘80s songs, which fired up the dancefloor like no other era of music could.
It was great because the local pub users didn’t make themselves known; they kept to themselves on the old man side. So far, so good. She so badly wanted to see Benji, to kiss him, hold him. On the surface, though, she was happy, smiling away to all who came to say happy birthday.
“Awesome party, Han,” Opie said, c******g her glass with his. “Why didn’t you do this for your eighteenth last year
