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ISABEL PUSHED OPEN the doors to The Rum Den stepping inside the pub. The darkened interior and low beamed ceiling gave the feeling of lives and stories having played out over a pint or two through the years. The pub was heaving tonight with Ryde’s vying pub quiz teams shouting their orders over the bar. Brenda was stalking about behind the counter in her element and Tilly, poor girl, looked flustered as she pulled pint after pint. Isabel remembered what it was like and although she missed the banter with the punters it was nice to be on the other side of the bar.
She hung back, waiting for the crowd to thin, and spied the quizmaster sitting on his stool in the corner of the pub. He was flicking through a sheaf of papers and she realised he was new. Although, as she took in his pork pie hat and dicky-bow tie, she surmised he was clearly as eccentric as the old one had been. Gerry had been quizmaster when she worked the bar and he’d insisted on donning a top hat which had always made Isabel feel he should be doing magic tricks not asking questions. She wondered if odd hats and wardrobe choices were part of the quizmaster job criteria.
She’d been meaning to call in to say hello to her old boss one evening after work and tonight, with Rhodri heading out for a pottery class at Nico’s, was as good a time as any. He was going to meet her here for a drink afterwards. She was pleased he’d gone to his class. He’d been on the fence about going, saying he wasn’t in the right mood. She’d talked him into it, telling him it would be a distraction, something to immerse himself in other than worrying over how things were going to work out with Sally where Austin was concerned. Isabel lifted her hand in greeting at the two women pulling the beer pumps and called out a hello to a few of the familiar faces as the regulars moseyed back to their tables with drinks in hand. She found a spare stool and perched on the edge of it.
‘Hello.’ She greeted the publican and barmaid when the crowd vying for drinks had dispersed. ‘Busy night?’
‘Hi, Isabel, sure is.’ Tilly smiled, her cheeks pink from the last mad ten minutes of service. She only just caught the cloth Brenda tossed at her. ‘You’d think they’d been running a marathon, that lot, with the thirst on them, not sat on their arses doing a quiz.’
Isabel laughed.
‘Thirsty punters are who pays your wages. Give the bar a wipe, Tilly, luv,’ Brenda instructed, turning her attention to Isabel. ‘And what can I get you? It’s on the ‘ouse.’ She was dressed in a tight black, low-cut top and black jeans leaving nothing to the imagination. Her feet, Isabel saw as she peered over the bar to check out Brenda’s legendary footwear were squeezed into red stilettos.
‘Those heels must be killers on your feet, Brenda, and thanks, I’ll have one of those lovely local ciders please.’
‘I can’t be doing with flat soles, Isabel, you know that, they hurt my back and I can hardly see over the bar.’
It was true, Isabel mused, as Brenda went to retrieve a bottle of the locally brewed apple drink from the fridge; Brenda lost a foot when she took her shoes off.
The chilled cider and a glass were put down in front of her and she smiled her thanks.
‘What type of animal is Skippy?’ The quizmaster boomed into his microphone.
‘A kangaroo,’ Isabel informed Brenda in a hushed voice before pouring the fizzy golden liquid into her glass. She enjoyed the fruity aroma for a moment and then took a sip, the bubbles popping on her tongue.
The pub was quiet now, apart from the conspiratorial whispers as to what the answer was.
‘You should join one of the teams. You’re good at trivia. Sandra’s Septuagenarians could do with some help, they’re a player down tonight.’ Brenda pointed a red, bejewelled talon in the direction of a table of women, silver heads bent together.
‘No, I go blank when I’m under pressure. Besides, I called in to see how you’re getting on.’
‘My bunions haven’t been too bad this week, since you asked.’
Isabel hadn’t asked but since she’d been informed as to the state of the bane of her old boss’s life, she replied. ‘No thanks to those shoes, Brenda. But I’m glad to hear it. How’s Russell?’ She’d expected to find Brenda’s son, who was a dead ringer for an East End thug but who had a heart of gold, behind the bar helping out.
‘He’s in London seeing his bruver and dad for a few days. It’s giving me a break from picking up after him. E’ always was a lazy sod.’ The affection in her voice didn’t escape Isabel and she laughed as Brenda leaned forward, giving her an eyeful of impressive cleavage as she lowered her voice, ‘I’ll swing for ‘im leaving that loo seat up like he does, one of these days. You just wait and see.’
‘It’s a man thing, Brenda.’
‘Don’t I know it. How did it go having Rhodri’s young fella to stay? Spit of his dad ’e is. Lovely little chap.’
‘Yes, he is, and we got off to a rocky start but then things fell in to place. I miss him already and it’s hard for Rhodri not knowing when he’ll see him next but he rings him every night after he’s had his tea and we both have a quick chat with him about his day.’ The first thing he always asked was how his fish were. If anything, Rhodri was more antsy after these phone calls. He’d flick through the television channels or get up to make yet another cup of tea of an evening and he was keeping her awake at night with his tossing and turning. ‘He’s been to see his lawyer about getting a permanent arrangement in place. It’ll be better for everyone, especially Austin, if it’s set out clearly what’s happening and regular visits with his dad and me has to be a good thing.’
Brenda nodded. ‘Kids need routine and to know where they’re at. And ’ave you ’eard from Constance?’
Isabel smiled over the rim of her glass. ‘I have. She’s having such a wonderful time.’
‘Glad to ’ear it.’
‘So, are you going to tell me what’s on your mind now we’re all caught up on everybody else?’ Brenda scrutinised her beneath two identically pencilled eyebrow arches.
‘I don’t know what you mean?’
‘I can read you like a book, young lady. What’s got your knickers all twisted?’
Tilly was busy herself emptying the dishwasher and the quizmaster was asking which two body parts continue to grow throughout your entire life.
‘I told you, I’m adopted,’ Isabel said, staring into her glass.
‘You did.’
‘Well, I asked Mum for my birth records a while back and didn’t do anything with them, but then after everything that happened with Constance finding Edward and Rhodri meeting Austin, I decided to reach out to my birth mother to see if she’d like to meet me. I wrote her a letter.’ There was no point saying she’d written loads of them before finally settling on the one still tucked away in her bag.
Brenda was nodding as she listened. ‘Go on.’
‘I wrote it weeks ago but I’ve still not sent it. I’m scared, I suppose. What if she doesn’t want to know anything about me? Or, what if she does want to meet and I think she’s horrible? And what if—’
‘I bet you’ve been driving your Rhodri mad with your what ifs, Isabel. I’ve never known anyone like it. What if she’s a lovely lady who’s been waiting her whole life to hear from you?’
Isabel rustled up a smile because there was no reason for that not to be the case. She’d send it tomorrow, she definitely would she resolved, jumping all over those pesky self-doubts.
‘You’re right.’ She took a swig of her apple fizz.
‘I always am.’
Isabel grinned. ‘Not when it comes to wearing high stilettos and bunions.’
She chattered amicably and munched her way through a bag of crisps while sipping on her drink for the next half hour or so, occasionally telling Brenda and Tilly the answers to the questions being shot across the pub, then with perfect serendipity, just as she drained her glass, Rhodri appeared.
He exchanged pleasantries with Brenda and ordered another cider for her and a pint before settling himself on the stool next to Isabel.
His hair was starting to look on the shaggy side; she’d remind him to get a trim this week she thought, asking, ‘Did you finish your mug?’ Brenda slid his pint in front of him. When Rhodri had asked what his next pottery project should be, Isabel had told him to make a mug.
‘Yes, I’m firing it next week.’ He took a sip of his ale and looked wholeheartedly satisfied by the brown brew. ‘That’s hit the spot.’
‘So, you’ll leave my priceless, family heirloom alone when you bring it home?’ Isabel took the bottle from Brenda with a smile. She was having him on about the Princess Anne mug she’d commandeered from her mum. She’d moved in to Pier View House as a lodger initially but as Rhodri’s partner she’d wanted to put her mark on the place and to have something of her own on display. The problem was she didn’t have anything, not with having been backpacking for the last couple of years. She’d travelled light and put extra cash towards moving on not mementos. In the end she’d asked her mum on a visit home if she could have a family heirloom to put on the sideboard. Babs Stark had been aghast, ‘You don’t mean my Princess Di mug?’
‘No, Mum, you can keep Princess Di. I meant something of sentimental value.’
‘My Princess Di mug is of great sentimental value,’ Babs had sniffed, opening the china cabinet. ‘Here, you can have this.’ She produced a bowl like mug with Princess Anne’s face emblazoned on the side. ‘Your Nana Stark bought me this for my fiftieth birthday so it’s of great sentimental value.’
Her dad’s mum, a hard-faced woman with a helmet of died brown hair and a tendency to shout, given her refusal to wear her hearing aid, had sprung to mind. Isabel didn’t know where sentimental value came into it—given her mum’s none too fond memories of her late mother-in-law, she was probably glad to be rid of it. Still, it was something from home and she’d taken it to her new home, Pier View House to put in pride of place on the sideboard only Rhodri had decided it was the perfect size for a mug of tea.
‘I will,’ he said grinning over the top of his glass and Isabel smiled back. This was her Rhodri. She’d missed him since they’d said goodbye to Austin.
‘I had a call while I was at Nico’s, from Sally.’
The cider suddenly sat heavy and flat in Isabel’s stomach. ‘What was she wanting?’ Her voice was waspish and it didn’t escape Rhodri’s notice. He straightened on his stool.
‘She wants to meet up to see if we could come to a suitable arrangement for Austin’s visits between ourselves. She doesn’t see the point in me involving my lawyer and wasting my money.’
‘Well, no she wouldn’t, would she, because it’s all about what suits Sally. I don’t see why you need to meet up. What’s wrong with the telephone for talking?’ It slipped out but now she’d said it Isabel needed to get the rest of it off her chest. ‘Isn’t it better to have the arrangements for Austin laid out clearly so she can’t mess you, us, around because this is about me too, you know. It seems to me the ball has been entirely in her court from the start.’ She banged her glass down, earning her a sidelong glance from Tilly.
‘Isabel, stop.’ Rhodri put his own glass down and took her hands in his.
She pulled them free. ‘No. I’m sorry, Rhodri, but I think she’s playing you. She clicks her fingers and you go running and it’s not fair on Austin or me.’ She felt the tears of frustration and fear she’d kept a lid on since Sally had first come back into their lives threaten to spill over.
‘Listen to me, would you?’
She sniffed.
‘I told Sally I thought it was better for us to take the legal route. I want to contribute financially for Austin as well and have the visitation agreement set down on paper in a binding document. There won’t be any mucking about because she’s not going to use Austin as leverage, Isabel. Do you understand?’
‘Really?’
He nodded and this time when he went to take her hands she let him. ‘I’m sorry. I shut you out and then I expected you to go along with whatever happened next with Austin.’
‘I don’t want you to be hurt.’ Her mother had said the same thing to her regarding her contacting Veronica. ‘And I want Austin in our lives. I just don’t want Sally coming between us. You loved her enough to marry her once.’
‘Once, a long time ago, and I don’t feel much of anything where she’s concerned now. She’s not a threat to us Isabel. I love you and watching you and Austin together made me feel like I had everything in the world except maybe one day another baby.’ He leaned over and kissed her firmly on the mouth.
‘Oi, we’ll have none of that in ’ere, thank you,’ Brenda said with a wink as she filled a glass with a shot.
They broke apart grinning. ‘I haven’t even checked in with you about your letter to Veronica, have you sent it?’ He shook his head. ‘I’m sorry I’ve been totally preoccupied with myself.’
‘Understandably,’ Isabel said. ‘And no, it’s still in my bag.’
‘Send it, Isabel. We’ll do it on the way home, aye? You’ve nothing to be scared of because no matter what, you’ve got your mum and dad and me and Austin. Anything else is just extra icing on the cake.’
It was true, Isabel thought, and not just them, she had Constance and Brenda, Delwyn and Nico. She had people who loved her in her life, constants who were there for her and nothing was going to change that. She downed her glass and urged Rhodri to do the same. ‘Come on, let’s post it now and then I think an early night could be in order.’
‘Promise me you’ll leave your mobile downstairs.’
Isabel giggled. The last time they’d been in the throes of love making her mum had decided to ring, and ring, and ring.
They said goodnight to Brenda and Tilly and Rhodri draped his arm around her shoulder as they wandered around the corner to where the post box was illuminated by the orange misty glow of a street lamp. Isabel opened her bag and pulled the letter out, glancing at the address one last time before she slid it through the slot, hearing it land with a plunk. It was gone. She’d done it, and now she’d have to wait to see what happened next.