Freya spotted Travis before he saw her. Pint in hand, he was scanning the large but crowded space as if searching for familiar faces.
She was guessing he’d never been in the Tap Room before as it was a recent conversion of an old craft brewery and former mill. It had been opened out to the roof trusses with metal joists, with part of the water wheel mechanism retained at the end of the bar. A former yard and storage warehouse area to one side had its own entrance and served as a function room for parties, gigs and events.
She lifted a hand and was rewarded with a fleeting smile as he made his way over to a table that included Araya, Roxanne, Ravi and various businesspeople from the village. She’d had the bath she’d mentioned but it hadn’t been as relaxing as she’d made out, because she’d been wondering about Travis’s distant mood earlier in the day and at the lights switch-on.
He joined the table and everyone started chatting about the day, asking him how the launch had gone, and about his work. Freya saw him visibly relax and come to life when talking about his photography. She relaxed too, deciding that he’d simply been on edge and exhausted after the launch week and his issues with his brother.
It was a while before she had a chance for a quiet word about Seb.
‘How’s Seb? Have you found out any more about the man hassling him by the church?’
‘No. there hasn’t been a good moment to ask him so far. The situation’s … delicate, shall we say, and I don’t want to ruin any progress I might have made. Not that I’m sure I have made much progress,’ Travis said gloomily. ‘The really scary part is that he’s not playing his music. Until a few months ago, Bree said he used to love doing gigs at the local pubs with some of his, shall we say, more supportive mates who used to look out for him. She bumped into Carly Raffaello the other night. She told Bree Seb had been invited to do a session a few times but he’s turned them down flat.’
Freya winced. ‘That doesn’t sound good. You think if he would start playing again, it would help him regain his confidence?’
‘It’s worth a try.’
‘Hmm.’ She paused for a moment but then voiced an idea that had been forming for a few days. ‘What about that?’ She pointed to a poster on the wall behind him.
He twisted round to check out the poster advertising an open mic night at the Tap Room the following week.
‘In theory, that’s a great idea but there’s no way he’d agree to it. He’d sus that straight away. I must admit I have asked him to come out for a drink sometime so here is as good a place as any but if he’s seen the posters, he’d still be suspicious.’
‘I thought of that. The event is in the back room where they have the gigs and functions. If you use the bar entrance and pretend you’d no idea it was on, he might not go ballistic – he might even stay and listen at least?’
Mulling it over, Travis hummed. ‘I’d like to try it but still can’t see him being fooled.’
‘OK, hear this. Roxanne’s asked me to meet up at Raffaello’s for a pre-wedding counsel of war?’
‘Counsel of what?’
‘War.’ Freya shrugged. ‘That’s what she calls it. It’s meant to be a quiet drink where she can have a good bitch about all her pre-wedding moans and I can listen and agree with her. I guess I could ask her to meet here instead?’
‘That’s … nice,’ he said without much enthusiasm. ‘But how does that help me get Seb here?’
Freya was slightly regretting her subterfuge, but it was too late to back out. ‘I thought that maybe … you could mention that you heard we were coming to the Tap Room and you just felt like turning up by coincidence?’
He frowned. ‘Right … you mean, I should pretend like I’m interested in you or something and want him to be my wingman so it doesn’t look weird when I walk in and you’re there with Roxanne?’
She cringed, having dug a hole of her own making. ‘Yeah. If it’s not too much of a stretch to act as if you are interested in me,’ she said haughtily. ‘Seb might fall for it, as he spotted us the other night outside the restaurant.’
‘I suppose,’ Travis said with a sigh. ‘It’s vaguely plausible.’
Was he winding her up? His lack of enthusiasm was galling after she’d come up with the idea. ‘Look, I’m only suggesting this to help you out! You said you were worried about him and wanted him to start playing again and I’ve offered a solution. It’s not compulsory,’ she added sniffily.
‘No, No, it’s a good idea. I think.’
‘It’s the only idea I have,’ she said, snatching up her bag as if to leave the table.
‘That’s one more idea than me.’
‘I’ll ask Roxanne to switch venues and if you turn up, you turn up. It’s up to you.’ She affected a large yawn. ‘It’s late and I’m sure we’re both done for after the past few days. I’m going home.’
‘Wait, Freya. Thanks for the suggestion. I’ll, er, hint to Seb that I want him to come with me on Tuesday. But if he does agree, you’ll have to act all surprised to see me and maybe annoyed and aloof?’
Freya shrugged on her coat. ‘I can promise you that part will definitely be easy.’
After mulling over a variety of reasons for switching the pre-wedding drinks to the Tap Room, Freya decided on the simplest: honesty. Roxanne was happy to oblige and seemed quite excited at the prospect of taking part in a ‘sting’ on Seb.
One they’d positioned themselves where they had a clear view of the door to the bar, Freya placed a cocktail on the table in front of Roxanne.
‘Seb must never get to hear of the plan. He’ll kill Travis if he finds out we’ve been cooking up a scheme and I don’t think I’d be his favourite person either. That’s if Travis can even get him in here without him noticing the open mic sign by the function room door.’
‘I feel like we’re in Line of Duty on an undercover operation …’
Roxanne sounded gleeful but Freya’s laughter was mostly nerves. Tonight could go horribly wrong for so many reasons. So far, there was no sign of Travis, though he’d been primed to turn up about fifteen minutes after Roxanne and her, if possible.
Her phone pinged and she scrolled through the screen and snorted. ‘It’s Mum. I get alerts when she posts. They’re onboard ship now. Prepare yourself.’
Roxanne took the phone and her perfectly waxed brows shot up her forehead. ‘Oh my God, is that Neil in the budgie smugglers?’
‘I’m afraid so. I think they were a freebie and she hates to waste anything.’
‘Ew. I can’t unsee that but your mum looks amazing in that crochet beach cover-up. Do you know where she got it from? Don’t tell her but I wouldn’t mind one for my honeymoon.’
‘I think she might have mentioned the brand in her hashtags,’ Freya said, trying not to focus on Neil’s turquoise trunks. As a builder, he kept himself in reasonable shape for a man of his age, but Daniel Craig he wasn’t. Freya allowed herself the thought that the only man who might look good in them was Travis.
‘Can you forward the post to me so I can check out the tags?’ Roxanne said.
‘Sure.’ Freya did as requested then closed the app.
‘Trunks aside, they do look happy,’ Roxanne said.
‘I know. It’s lovely for Mum because she wasn’t sure how they’d manage sharing a small cabin on their first big holiday together.’ Freya had never seen her mum look so excited as in the past few posts from her cruise. Neil seemed very happy in their WhatsApp calls too but then, they were on holiday.
‘Talking of romance …’ Roxanne said with a mischievous glint in her eye. ‘You and Travis. He’s meant to be pretending that he’s interested in you – though he’s not really – to persuade Seb to come in here with him because you might be here on the off-chance, rather than any other of ten drinking venues in the village?’
‘Not on the off-chance,’ Freya corrected. ‘Travis has told Seb that he heard me mention we were coming here for a pre-wedding drink. So, it’s not a coincidence.’
Roxanne rolled her eyes. ‘What a tangled web you weave and I can’t for the life of me think how the two of you are going to convince anyone that you’re the slightest bit interested in each other.’ She punctuated this less-than-innocent statement with a slurp of her cocktail.
Freya decided it was best not to rise to the bait and started a conversation about the wedding flowers: an issue she knew had caused more ‘wedmin’ and angst than almost any other aspect of the nuptials.
As expected, Roxanne immediately threw up her hands and launched into the latest update.
‘Well, the florist finally managed to track down some flowers that are native to St Lucia, though Ravi found out how much they were going to cost and said he thought that Flowergate was getting out of hand, and then we had a big row but he got bleeped by the hospital and by the time he’d got back, he was too knackered to care, so we are having the flowers and my dad is so happy and they will look amazing so everything is fine.’
When Roxanne paused for breath, Freya commented, ‘Well, it’ll be lovely to have a nod to your dad’s family.’ Mr Jameson had been born in St Lucia before his parents had emigrated to the UK when he was a baby, and Roxanne had become fixated on the flowers as a way of ‘bringing both families together in symbolic yet meaningful way’.
‘Yes. So that’s done and we’ve almost finished the table plan. You’ll be on the top table, of course, next to Nico. I can’t wait for you two to meet each other.’
‘What about Nico’s partner?’ Freya said, her antennae twitching. ‘Won’t they want to sit together?’
‘Oh, they’ve split up,’ Roxanne said airily. ‘Didn’t I tell you? She went off with one of the directors of her advertising firm. Nico was heartbroken to start with, though Ravi thinks he’s better off without her. He’s single again – like you – so that’s made the top table planning and walking out of church so much simpler. I always think it’s a bit weird when a best man and chief bridesmaid have to link arms and walk down the aisle, when they’re married to other people. At least you’ll look like you could be a real couple.’
Freya had no answer to this but fortunately, it was the exact moment when Travis and Seb made their entrance into the bar.
Roxanne dug Freya in the ribs. ‘Uh huh! It’s them!’ she said in a stage whisper. ‘Should we act as if we don’t want them to notice us – or we do?’ Roxanne said with a smirk.
‘Try to act normally,’ Freya said, having no idea how to do that.
Travis was visibly on edge, checking his watch, smiling too much – only someone who knew him as well as she would guess. Surely Seb would have detected Travis was twitchy too? For now he seemed OK, chatting to one of the waiting staff while Travis bought the drinks.
She told herself to chill: the plan was going better than she’d hoped – so far.
A few minutes later, the two men made their way through the packed pub towards their table.
‘Fancy seeing you here!’ Roxanne declared with a level of enthusiasm that made Freya cringe.
Seb smirked. ‘Yeah. Fancy that …’
‘It’s heaving in here. Why don’t you sit down?’ Roxanne patted the bench seat next to her. ‘There’s plenty of room if Freya squeezes up. Seb can sit opposite.’
‘Thanks,’ Travis said, sliding onto the seat next to Freya. ‘You OK for drinks?’
‘Fine,’ she murmured.
Seb grinned. ‘It’s busy in here for midweek.’
Freya felt Travis stiffen with tension. It was clear Seb hadn’t cottoned on to the event yet, though goodness knew how. This thought didn’t fill her with joy; it might have been better if he had realised it was open mic night yet still agreed to go.
Freya started up a conversation about the Christmas Fair, and how well it had gone, and a mercifully brief conversation about Roxanne’s wedding followed. She didn’t mind what they talked about as long as Seb seemed relaxed. After a while, he excused himself to go to the gents’.
Roxanne exhaled and fanned herself. ‘This isn’t fun. I think I’m going to have a heart attack.’
‘You are?’ Travis muttered. ‘You should be in my position. Is it normal to be terrified of your little brother?’
‘It is if you’ve lured him here under false pretences,’ Freya muttered. ‘Oh God, is that a sound check?’ She heard a mic announcement from the function room. ‘How has he not realised?’
‘Maybe he has and doesn’t care,’ Roxanne murmured.
‘And pigs might fly,’ Travis said. ‘Uh huh. He’s coming back …’
Seb returned, still smiling and seemingly unaware of the deception. He settled back in the seat and started scrolling through his phone.
‘Hey, man! Long time, no see!’
Freya saw Travis’s face blanch as a rail-thin man in leather trousers slapped Seb on the back.
He turned and grinned. ‘Hello, Nate.’
‘It’s good to see you,’ Nate said. ‘Are you here for the open mic thing?’
Seb frowned. ‘What open mic thing?’
Nate flipped a thumb towards the function room. ‘It’s in there. Anyone can turn up. Starts in an hour, you just need to put your name down.’
‘I didn’t know it was happening. I’m here for a quiet pint with my brother and his friends …’ He turned to Travis and gave him a beaming smile. Freya had a horrible feeling that Travis was in very hot water. ‘Aren’t we, bro?’
‘Oh, OK, but if you fancy it another time … At least come in and listen,’ Nate said. ‘We miss you, man. We’d love you to start playing again. Are you sure you won’t join us tonight just for one number?’
‘Sorry, I haven’t got my guitar,’ Seb muttered.
‘OK, but any time, you know where to find me,’ Nate said.
Nate walked off and Seb stood up. ‘I’m sorry, ladies, but I’m going to have to leave you. I need to have a word with my brother. I’ll see you outside, Travis.’ He marched off towards the door.
‘Oh dear, that went well,’ Roxanne murmured before slurping up her cocktail.
‘Shit.’ Travis rubbed his hand over his mouth in despair.
Freya let out a groan. ‘Sorry. I wish I’d never suggested it!’
‘No, it’s me who should be sorry for even thinking it would work.’ He hooked his jacket off his chair. ‘I must go. If I don’t open the gallery in the morning, you’ll know there’s been a murder and I’m the victim.’