Friday is one of my favourite days, even though I have a double shift at Veldons, because it’s always busy. It’s one of those days where you never have time to think too much. In the morning I do my usual delivery round for my brother, then spend a few hours with him in the bakery, helping out wherever I can; I get to Veldons around lunchtime then am back in the shop to help Noel with closing, then head back to Veldons for my evening shift. On Fridays there’s live music. Andy, Shane, Reid and Alex are in a traditional Celtic music band – the type of music that’s passed down from generation to generation. Every Friday, they play at Veldons for a few hours, transforming the pub into a sort of dance hall. Locals love going there at the weekend; they love the music, the dancing, the company, and they love the booze, too. But Andy always makes sure that everyone can get home without being a danger to themselves or others.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” I ask Noel as I help him replace the leftover bakes into containers, which are then donated to the local homeless shelter. “Everyone will be there.”
“Mmm-hmm…” he responds, distracted.
“Why don’t you stop by? Even just for an hour.”
“What would I do in a pub?”
“What everyone does.”
“I don’t drink.”
“That’s not the only thing to do in a pub.”
“I don’t want to see anyone.”
“It’s always the same people. Nothing has changed.”
“Nothing? Really?” He forgets about the bakes and finally looks at me.
“They’re good people.”
“I don’t want them to look at me the way they usually do.”
“How do they look at you?”
Noel turns his back to me. “Like they pity me. Like someone who has nothing left to fight for.”
My brief exchange with Noel has totally changed my mood – my mind is elsewhere, now. I’m not really paying attention to the usual chitchat at the bar, to the people coming and going. I just serve drinks and collect empty glasses, accepting change with a totally straight face. I’m not in the mood to force myself out of this state.
“Hey, how’s my favourite barman?” Ellie’s voice brings me slowly back to the present, to myself.
“Hi, Ellie. Sorry, I didn’t see you.”
“I realised.”
I smile at her and ask what I can get for her.
“Just a glass of wine, if that’s okay?”
“You can have anything you want.”
Ellie smiles, satisfied, then turns on her stool to glance out at the room as I grab a bottle of wine to pour her a glass.
“There aren’t many people who ask for wine in here.” I hand her the drink and she thanks me with a nod.
“I like to change things up. Besides, I see so much whiskey and gin that it’s starting to make me feel sick.”
I smile. Ellie runs a small import-export business which promotes her family’s brand overseas. Their family own the Johnston Distillery: one of the most famous distilleries in the country.
“What about your brother? Did he not want to come along tonight?” she asks politely.
My brother never comes to these things, and Ellie knows that. But I think she’s just trying to be kind.
“He wanted to stay at home.” I can’t hide the way I feel when I talk about Noel, and Ellie notices right away.
“You shouldn’t feel guilty.”
“I always get the impression there’s more I could’ve done. I should’ve come back sooner, made sure he was really okay. I should’ve been there for him.”
“I’m afraid not even you being here would’ve helped.”
“Everyone says that.”
“You shouldn’t blame yourself.” Ellie’s hand strokes mine gently. “It just happened. No one could help it.”
I sigh. I know Ellie’s right, but I can’t help but wonder whether things would’ve gone differently if I’d been here.
“Hey, honey.” Alex approaches the bar and joins his wife. “We’re just about to start. The others are already at the table we’ve reserved right next to the stage.”
“Well, if it’s reserved…” Ellie gets to her feet, then looks back at me.
“Go, have fun. All of you. I’ll be over in a bit to take your orders.”
Ellie and Alex head off into the next room, where the band are setting up and people are getting ready to dance. I stay at the bar, serving the last few customers before everyone shifts next door for the music.
I pull a few pints and pour a few glasses of whiskey, collecting up the empty glasses left scattered in front of me and wiping down the counter with a cloth. Someone sits across from me, then, just as the first few notes start to waft through the pub.
“I think I might be a bit late.”
His voice brings me slowly back to shore, as if I’d been drowning out at sea for an entire night and was only then able to make it to dry land.
I lift my gaze to meet his and another crack – this time much bigger, capable of sucking my entire world into it – opens up in my chest.
“They’ve already started.”
I shake my head. “You’re not late.”
No, you’re not, Silas. Not you. You’re always perfectly on-time, perfectly ready – I’m the one who’s struggled to find my way home all these years.
“Can I get a lager?”
I grab a glass and pull him a pint as I watch him; he’s looking around. There aren’t many people in here with us – they’re all in the next room. We’re completely alone at the bar now. I place the glass down in front of him and he smiles, thanking me. He takes a few sips then moves the glass around on the wood, watching me.
“You on your own tonight?”
“Everyone’s through there.” I nod towards the other room.
“Are you holding down the fort?”
“I’m helping the thirsty.”
He laughs.
“What about you?”
“Hmm?”
“Don’t you…?”
He glances at the room, then back to me. “What? Don’t I dance?”
I nod.
“There’s no one worth dancing with.”
I bite down so hard on my cheek that I draw blood.
“I like it. Dancing, I mean. But I’d rather not dance with my sisters. It’s a bit embarrassing at this age. I’ve aged, now.”
I swallow then just say it. “W-well.”
“Hmm?”
“You’ve aged well.”
Silas smiles, cracking another fissure in my chest so deep it threatens to suck everything down into it for eternity.
“What if there were someone to dance with?”
He takes another sip then replaces his glass on the bar. “If there were someone… I might consider it. But it all depends on who that person is.”
He gets up to leave, but I’m not ready for him to leave me again – not now that I’ve had a taste of him.
I rest my hand on his, which is still on the bar. Silas slowly lifts his gaze to meet mine.
“We both know you’ll never be that someone.”
I can’t tell him that he’s wrong, but I can’t let him walk away like this, taking everything we’ve had away with him.
Silas watches as my hand slides away then sighs heavily. “I have to go. My family, my friends… They’re waiting.” He turns around, and as he walks the few metres which will take him too far from me once again, I leap over the bar and land on the other side. I approach him, grabbing his arm. Silas turns, surprised.
“But what if… What if…?”
“You can’t really think that.”
“You don’t know what I think.”
“I’ve already gone through this, Leo.”
I let him go the moment his eyes leave mine. I take a step back.
I know what the problem is, here. Silas will never believe me. And I can’t blame him for it.
“I’ve learnt from my mistakes.”
I’m a mistake. I’m wrong for Silas.
“I really have to go.”
He’s the one to say it, this time – and it hurts me at least as much as it’s hurt him, every time I’ve said those words.
“Have a good evening.”
He doesn’t add anything else. He simply turns his back to me and walks away, leaving me alone with this feeling about to explode in my chest – something I don’t know how to handle without his help.