Page 45 of The Cocktail Bar
“Indeed I am, Lady Rigby-Chandler.” Alice bustled over to air kiss her. “And my, you’re looking wonderful, in fact I swear you get younger the every couple of years we do bump into each other, and always outside of the village. It must be a super place for you to escape to, here in River’s glamorous bar.”
“It’s not a patch on The Savoy, sweetheart, you must know that.”
Cow, she was certainly drinking enough of the profits.
“It’s a little piece of paradise for all of us Glastonians. And I’m happy to play a small part in its success.” Alice threw a smile over her shoulder to River and he gratefully caught it.
“That’s it, I vow to talk to your mother… get you out of this dreadful place. If only I’d known about this sooner, why I’d soon have talked her out of her childish siding with Tamara over that what’s his name? Glenn Luke Sherringham, the wooden actor you used to cavort with?”
“But if it’s so very dire, prey tell why are you drinking here?” Alice replied un-frazzled as River swallowed his temporary envy over the mention of that total jerk.
“Yes,” River echoed between gritted teeth. “Perhaps you’d care to enlighten us, my Ladyship?”
“Well, where else is there, darling? Believe me, I’d hotfoot it up to London in a jiffy if only I’d had the gumption to take driving lessons back in the heyday… word of advice, Alice, for thou art worldly-wise, well-travelled and all that. Never hitch up with a man who owns vast quantities of land in the West Country.”
“Do you know what? Not so very long ago and I might have agreed with you… but now I can’t think of anything more appealing.” She dazzled River with her smile and they both turned their backs.
“My Bellini, Jackson: you’re forgetting my Peach Bellini,” Lady Rigby-Chandler retorted and returned to her seat and her dozing husband.
River sighed, begrudgingly thankful this would lower his pulse which Alice’s statement had just rendered uncontrollable, and even began to feel sorry for Lady Rigby-Chandler for a few seconds; something was very amiss in her seemingly upper-crust life. Surely she and her husband should be inundated with appointments and invites to stately manors and creaking castles far and wide, as opposed to being holed up in – an upmarket and trendy, admittedly – cocktail bar?
Terry walked in with Heather then, taking River’s mind off the incessant beck and call of those sapphire-spangled snapping fingers. He obediently pureed her peaches anyway, a quick wave to the smiley couple as they took up the last table on the floor.
“I think we’re going to have to open the upstairs tonight,” he said excitedly to Georgina as she made for the dishwasher to fill it up with empties.
“Have you heard back from the Brunswick yet… about my certificate? It’s not fair to keep me pacing the floor like a skivvy when I should be round here with you, impressing the clients.”
“That would becustomersand not yet, no,” said River, annoyed that she hadn’t taken the rather large hint to ensure upstairs was shipshape and ready for business, equally surprised the Brunswick hadn’t awarded her a grade yet. “Can you put the vacuum cleaner round on the first floor for me please? The nextcustomersin here are going to have to be seated upstairs… unless the Rigby-Chandlers make a sharp exit, or anybody else leaves in the next half hour, all of which is looking highly unlikely.”
“Why should I?” she back chatted him like an eight-year-old in the playground.
“Um, that’ll be because I asked you to… nicely. Why are we even having this conversation?”
“Why can’tTrashthere do it?”
“Excuse me… are you talking to me?”
Alice’s eyes became saucers. Saucers River wanted to dive into, lapping every inch of her up. It unnerved him for a second or two. His groin panged with desire. He wasn’t sure if that came from her unusual Maid Marion act of defiance, or the many weeks he’d spent in a sexual desert. Either way, he needed to mask it quickly.
“You must be mistaken,” Georgina cut through his thoughts with the serrated blade of her tongue. “I said, after I’ve takenoutthe trash. The bins need emptying too, you see. It’s a good thing some of us are on the ball.”
And with that she marched off.
“River, look, I know it’s not my right to say this,” said Alice, “and it’s your bar, you employ who you choose. But how can you possibly stand for that attitude?”
“And how on Earth can I let her go now Mum’s shacked up with Terry?” he heard himself snap back unfairly, lamely, unable to hide his emotion.
“They’re hardly at wedding bells stage yet. Nip it in the bud. Not because I’m some jealous friend, as she’d have you believe, but because she’s up to something. Why can’t you see it?”
Alice picked up her tray of mixed orders and left him to his thoughts. But she had a point, more than a point. Georgina was stripping him of his dignity, a locust swooping down on a field of crops and soon there would be nothing left.
Terry came to the bar then, sensing everybody was a little overworked.
“How’s it going tonight, pal? Busy one it seems.” He sniffed at the air as if it encapsulated the presence of a crowded house. “You’ve even pulled in The Queers.” He tutted, eyes wide, and shook his head from side to side.
“We’re rushed off our feet here, Terry,” River was not about to get into an argument, but made a mental note to drop several hundred hints to Heather about the bigoted views of the man he thought was becoming the increasing tonic to his mother’s life, “but always time for regulars. What can I get you… and Mum? Let me guess—”
“Your mother will have her usual, you’re right there,” he laughed. “But I’m gonna be brave and step out of me comfort zone tonight. Now we’ve been wondering about it for ages, like… why’s th’ick there ‘Magical Manyanerr’ – is that how you pronounce it – on a page all of its very own? Little bit strong is it? Little bit special?”
