Page 11 of Rivers of Ink
The awkwardness between them was broken by Pearl. “Ah, Alicia, welcome! I, for one, am very glad you’re here. Can’t wait to be back to making people squirm and scream while they’re paying me.”
“Pearl does tattooing and piercing,” explained Callan. “Mainly it’s teenage girls getting their ears pierced, though occasionally she gets asked for other things, if you catch my drift.”
“Ah, Cal, I can’t wait for you to finally agree to a Prince Albert. It will totally enhance your sex life.”
Pearl was totally oblivious to the fact that Callan felt his face flame when she said that. He shot a sideways glance at Alicia and noticed that she was a little flushed too. Get a grip, he told himself, we have to work together.
“Let’s go upstairs to the office. I can show you around.”
He was grateful to have a distraction from the delicate conversation and led Alicia up the stairs. Callan pointed out the tiny staff area, where she could leave her jacket and bag if she wanted to, the kitchen area, and the toilet. He explained that the two private rooms were used by either Pearl; Marek, the other tattoo artist; or himself when the work in question was on a part of the body that the client didn’t want anyone seeing. Sometimes he questioned why people would tattoo that part of their body if no-one was going to admire the artwork, as long as he was getting paid for it, it didn’t overly bother him. They went into the office, which Callan had made some effort to tidy up over the weekend.
“This is it.” He gestured to the tired looking laptop on the desk. “The shop’s email is on there, plus the social media accounts. All the passwords are the same now. None of us could remember more than one.” He passed over a scruffy, crumpled sheet of A4 paper. There were crossings out and things written in different coloured pens. If he’d thought about it, he should have retyped it and printed it out new. Callan thought he saw a glimmer of a smile cross Alicia’s lips. She probably already had about a million ideas as to how to improve the place.
She pulled off her jacket and hung it over the back of the chair before sitting down. “Where do you want me to start?”
“Why don’t you check out the email backlog? I took a quick look the other day but didn’t really get very far.” Callan grabbed his sketch pad from off the top of the filing cabinet and took a seat on the other side of the desk. “I’ll hang out here and you can ask any questions you need to.”
“Right. So, get rid of any notification messages, spam, that sort of thing?”
“Er, yeah, sounds good.” He opened up the book and flipped through the pages, trying to find a clean one.
Alicia appraised him. “Did you do anything with that design you were working on the other day?”
His head snapped up. He had totally forgotten about the rose and tears he’d been working on when they’d first met. It had been a good design, and he wondered where the drawing was.
“Not yet,” he said. “I wasn’t finished with it. I kind of got distracted that night.” The corner of his mouth curled into a smile, and he was pleased to see that Alicia reciprocated with one of her own.
They both went back to work, and Callan pondered whether Alicia’s memory was also going over the events of the rest of that night. He knew for certain his was.
After a while, Alicia spoke again. “Remind me how many staff you have here?”
Callan leaned back in his chair, counting on his fingers as he spoke. “There’s me and Aidy—I’m the main tattooist and he’s the most senior barber now. Miles and Aaron are the two other barbers; Marek is the other tattooist; and as you know, Pearl does some piercing and tattooing. Seven of us in total.” He couldn’t bring himself to talk about the gap in the ranks.
Her eyebrows knitted together. “So, who’s Xander? There are emails here that specifically ask for him.”
He had to tell her the truth. He couldn’t keep that from her, not if she was going to be working there. Callan took a deep breath. “Xander is, was, my brother.”
“Ah, okay. Did he leave to work somewhere else?”
If that had been the way things happened, Callan would have been able to deal with it. Slowly, he shook his head.
“No. He… died. In a motorbike accident.”
Alicia’s demeanour changed. “Oh my god, I am so sorry. I had no idea. Was it recent?”
“A few weeks ago.”
She jumped up from her side of the table and came around to him. Alicia rested her hands on his shoulders and gently pulled him towards her. It was a small, comforting gesture. He placed his hands over hers and bent his head towards the floor, screwing up his eyes against the tears he felt coming. Her fingers gently massaged him as he breathed deeply, trying to compose himself. They were like that for several minutes until Aidy came in.
“Hey, guys, just popped up to see how you were getting on.” He ground to a halt in the doorway. “Things seem to be going well?”
Callan pulled himself together and shook off Alicia. “We’re fine. Alicia’s starting to get the hang of things.” He stood up. “In fact, I’m going to make a coffee. Do you want one?”
He stood alone in the little kitchen area as he gathered his thoughts. As he faffed about with the cafetière, he realised he had no idea if Alicia drank coffee. So as not to make things more awkward, he put a couple of mugs on a tray he found in a cupboard, along with some milk and sugar, before adding the pot and going back into the office.
Alicia’s head was bent over the laptop, and he admired the curve of her smooth neck and the way her hair tumbled over her shoulders. He fought back an overwhelming urge to kiss her. After all, that wouldn’t be the best way to start out their working relationship. He placed the tray on the desk.
“I didn’t know what you wanted, so I brought everything.”
