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Matt answered his phone with a growl. Frank was on his way to Glasgow. He’d just gotten rid of one problem, and he didn’t need another one. If this was Morag calling about her bloody cat, he was going to lose the plot entirely.
“You need to get down to the pub,” Harry said in his ear. He sounded like he was grinning. “Your woman is drunk and dancing on a table.”
“What the hell? I can hardly hear you over the music. Talk louder.”
There was a pause. “We’re in the pub. Jena’s dancing on a table. So are the twins. And Kirsty’s mum. Yep. That’s the whole Knit or Die crew up on tables now too. I’m fairly certain only half of them are drunk.”
Matt pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m on my way.”
“Yeah, you don’t want to miss this. Your Jena’s got moves that shouldn’t be seen in public. She’s gathering an audience. I reckon you’re about five minutes away from Jena being propositioned by half the men in here. Wow, I didn’t know a body could do that. I really need to get Jena to teach Magenta how to dance. Magenta dances like a five-year-old at a school disco.”
With a growl, Matt hung up.
“Need help?” Joe was still hanging around the station. Why, Matt didn’t know.
He let out a sigh. “Another set of hands would probably be good. The women are drunk and dancing on the tables at the pub.”
With a wide grin, Joe dug out his phone. “Your woman’s at the pub,” was all he said.
“Grunt’s coming too then,” Matt said with resignation.
Joe rubbed his hands together. “This should be fun.”
“Aye. Fun,” Matt said grimly.
He left his stab vest hanging on the back of his chair. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t need it to deal with the women. On second thoughts... He strapped the vest back on.
“Coward,” Joe mocked.
“Let’s see if you’re still saying that at the end of this thing.” Matt locked up the station behind them. It was a five-minute walk to the pub, but he pointed to his car. He’d need it with him to get Jena home.
“I like this town. I’m gonna get a kick out of living here.” Joe grinned as they headed to the pub.
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A DJ remix of popular UK bands of the eighties was blasting through the pub. Jena was in her happy place. The music had taken over. Her body was flowing to the rhythm. The troubles of the past few months faded away. There was just the movement of her body and the vibrations of the beat as it thrummed through her. It reminded her of the parts of her life she missed. The overwhelming noise of the clubs that managed to drive out all other thoughts and somehow gave her brain space to rest. The darkness and coloured lights that made her feel like she was transported somewhere else, somewhere far away from her everyday mundane life. It was like a secret world where she could take a time out from life. And it was wonderful to have a version of it back, even for a little while.
The music snapped off. “What the bloody hell is going on here?” a voice boomed through the silence.
The lights came on full. The glare hurt Jena’s eyes and made her groan. Along with about a dozen other women.
“Dougal, put the music back on right now,” someone ordered.
“Don’t you tell me what to do, Margaret Campbell. This is my pub. Not yours.”
It took Jena a minute to focus on the rotund, red-faced Dougal. He didn’t look pleased. His red cheeks clashed with his pink shirt. Not a good look.
“Get off the tables right now,” he ordered.
“No.” Margaret put her hands on her hips. “We’re having fun. You’re just being an old fuddy-duddy.”
Jena started to giggle. Fuddy-duddy. She caught Abby’s eyes and noticed she was smothering a giggle too. Abby stood on the table nearest Jena. With her long brown hair and very proper grey dress, she made it look like Kate Middleton was table dancing. It made Jena giggle harder.
The door opened and Jena’s giggle stopped dead. Matt, Joe and Grunt strode into the room. Only Joe was grinning.
“Oh hell no,” Claire shouted. “You have no reason to be here, Samuel Grunt Dayton. I officially broke up with you. Go back to America. Or your cave. I don’t care where you go, as long as it’s away from me.”
Grunt growled and took a step towards Claire before Matt’s arm shot out to stop him.
“Get down off the tables. Now,” Matt ordered.
Jena folded her arms. She noticed none of the other women rushed to do as they were told either.
“We”—Jena pointed at Claire—“have decided we don’t like your attitudes. You treat us like property. We’re people. You can’t claim people. You can’t say you’re keeping them. And you can’t boss them around. This is the twenty-first century. Isn’t it?” She looked at Abby, who nodded. “Yes,” Jena continued. “This is the twenty-first century. Slavery has been abolished. We won’t stand for your caveman attitude anymore.”
“Exactly,” Claire shouted. “I’m nobody’s fish!”
“It’s time you changed your attitudes,” Jena said.
“And stop kidnapping people,” Claire added.
“Yeah.” Jena made a fist sign at Claire. “No more kidnapping. Kidnapping is wrong. Unless you’re in a Liam Neeson movie, then it’s okay. But that’s the only place it’s okay.”
Her arms shot out to steady herself as she wobbled on the table. Matt took a step towards her, but stopped dead when he saw she was fine. Jena wondered vaguely if she was maybe a little tipsy.
“Baby,” Grunt said, his low voice echoing through the silent room. People were holding their breaths, afraid to make a noise in case they missed something. “I kidnapped Jena for her own good.”
Yeah, that was not the thing to say. The screams of outrage from the women were so loud that Jena had to cover her ears.
Claire put her hands on her hips. Her eyes blazing. “There is no excuse for kidnapping and abduction, Samuel Grunt Dayton. You’ve been bad. Very bad.”
“Claire, you’re embarrassing me,” Megan told her sister as people laughed. “Are you going to send him to the naughty corner?”
“Okay, okay.” Claire held a hand up to stop her sister from saying anything else. She glared at Grunt. “You’ve still been bad, and I’m not dating you anymore.”
“Baby,” Grunt said. “We weren’t dating. We were starting a life together.”
There were some very soppy aw sounds from the peanut gallery. Jena glared around the room. “No ‘aw’. That’s not an ‘aw’ thing. It’s an ‘oh hell no’ thing. Did you two talk about a lifetime commitment?” she asked Claire.
“No. We did not.” Claire folded her arms and glared down at Grunt.
“See?” Jena glared at Matt. “This is exactly what we’re talking about. You guys have got it all wrong. You think you’re the dictator of your own little relationship country. And we won’t stand for it anymore.” Jena stamped her foot to a cheer of approval.
The table shuddered. The leg gave way. She screamed as she fell. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Matt running. Her table hit the table beside her. Abby squealed as her table tipped. And just like that, Jena watched as all the women fell off their tables one after the other. There were screams. Crashes. Thuds. It was like some bizarre domino-toppling event.
“Are you okay?” Matt’s hands ran up her limbs, checking for injuries. “Did you hit your head?”
“I’m fine. I think. I landed on my ass. There’s gonna be a bruise.”
“You were lucky,” he said grimly.
Oh, oh, she recognised that look. She was in trouble. She eyed the door.
“Don’t even think about running,” Matt said. “I’m going to check out the rest of these crazy women. You stay put. Don’t touch anything. Don’t move an inch.” He strode into the chaos.
“Abby?” Jena shouted. “Are you okay?”
“I ripped my dress,” came the reply. Abby appeared beside her. She watched Matt nervously. “I think I’ll go home before Matt starts shouting.”
“No way,” Matt called across the room. “Abby, you’re staying put. Men,” he shouted, “no drunk women are allowed to leave. We’ll divvy them up later. Make sure they get home safe, once we’ve checked them out.”
There was a chorus of agreement.
Abby plonked down on the floor beside Jena. “Looks like we’re stuck here.”
“Let go of me right now!” Claire’s voice rose above the rabble.
Jena’s jaw dropped as Grunt stalked past with Claire slung over his shoulder. “Put me down.” She beat at his back. He didn’t seem to notice. “Matt! Matt! I’m being kidnapped. He’s at it again. Matt, help me!”
Matt looked over at Grunt. They shared a look Jena couldn’t decipher before Matt nodded.
“Check in when she calms down,” Matt said.
Grunt grunted and carried on out of the pub.
“Donald Matthew Donaldson,” Claire screeched. “I am so telling Mum about this.”
“Don’t let him talk you into anything without negotiating,” Megan shouted. “Hold out for vibrating piercings. You can do it! I have faith in you.”
And then the door slammed behind them.
“Doc’s on the way,” Dougal shouted across the bar.
Jena and Abby shared a worried look. “Doctor?” Abby said.
“It’s okay,” Margaret Campbell called back. “I only broke my wrist.”
“Damn, Maggie,” Shona said. “How are you going to knit?”
Jena groaned as she wrapped her arms around her shins and hit her head on her knees. “I’ve injured someone else,” she said.
Abby patted her back. “At least it wasn’t a date this time.”
“Aye,” Dougal said. “She’s branching out. Now we have to be worried about more than the town’s single men. Not to mention the state of my pub.” He shook a finger at Jena. “We’re going to have a long talk about damages in the morning, my girl.”
Great, more bills to pay.
“Don’t worry,” Abby whispered. “We’ll all chip in. Plus, you can run dance classes in my old barn. You’ll be earning money in no time at all. Everything will be fine.”
Jena caught sight of Matt’s frown from across the room.
“Can I stay at your place tonight?” she asked Abby.
Abby opened her mouth, but the voice came from Matt. “No way in hell, princess. You’re going home with me.”
“It’s too late to run, isn’t it?” Jena whispered to Abby.
Her friend nodded with a sympathetic smile.