Page 73 of One More Day
I do my best to discreetly look towards the bar, past all the coats and bobble hats who are trying to find a seat, and then I see who Stacy is talking about.
He wears a long beige woollen coat, a white shirt and has sandy hair which looks like it’s been freshly cut in time for Christmas. He is smart and very clean-cut. He looks friendly, I suppose, but he is most definitely not my type.
It’s Billy.
‘Well, I’m very flattered,’ I say to Stacy, as the waitress who admired my dress earlier clears the table. ‘Oh, Chris is bringing him over. Oh.’
‘I’ve a terribly big mouth,’ Stacy giggles. ‘Chris says I can’t hold my—’
‘Rose, Stacy, this is Billy. I’ve asked him to join us for a drink. Hope you ladies don’t mind?’
I open my mouth but nothing comes out, and before I know it, Billy has taken off his camel coat and is in the seat beside me with a pint of beer in hand, telling me again all about his recent divorce and how he came to Donegal toforget about it all for a few days, and now that there’s no music to distract us, isn’t it great to get chatting properly.
Sweet Lord above, help me.
And again, despite my efforts to be polite to Billy, I’m barely listening because Charlie has just come into the bar and I can’t think straight. He must have gone back to the cottage to get changed because he’s now wearing a navy shirt and fresh jeans that hug him in all the right places. His hair is damp from the shower, and as usual he fills the room. There isn’t a woman in the place who doesn’t look his way.
‘Isn’t that the guy you’re sharing the cottage with?’ whispers Stacy. I nod. ‘Jeez, Rose. No wonder you’ve hardly given poor Billy a sideward glance. He’s a dish.’
She giggles like a schoolgirl. I do my best to stay po-faced. I try to focus on my present company, but my eyes give me away. They are trained simply to follow him as he finds his bearings, looking at his phone, pushing back his wavy hair, smiling to greet people he doesn’t know.
Thanks for walking Max. Most appreciated.
He’s texting me. The sound of my phone and the words on the screen distract me.
No problem
I type the response quickly and set my phone down as if it’s on fire. I hate texting in company, but I don’t want to ignore him either. He is with Marion and her cronies from the Christmas Fayre, who look like they’ve just won the lottery,but Charlie’s eyes are skirting around too as if he is looking for someone.
Is he looking for me?
He sees me. I wave.
He waves back.
He smiles at first but when he spots Billy by my side again he looks away quickly and busies himself at the bar, tapping a beer mat as he waits for his friends to find a table. I can’t quite read the expression on his face as he stares up at the television that broadcasts a TV music channel with the volume turned down. Now his hands are in his pockets. Now, they’re back on the bar. Now he is biting his lip.
He looks my way again.
He looks away again. Billy is still talking. I’m still barely listening because I can’t. I feel a pull, like a crazy tug, a magnetic urge to be near Charlie. I’ve no idea why.
Too much wine and beer, I remember him saying. Yes, that’s all it was last night and it’s all it is now.
We are just strangers who are sharing a cottage. We have no obligation to be physically close to each other outside of that.
‘This is Charlie,’ I hear Marion coo to anyone who will listen. ‘Yes, he’s staying at our cottage.’
Ourcottage. Huh. It was my Granny Molly’s cottage until Marion got her claws into it over some stupid raffle.
She puts her hand on his arm, showing him off as if he is her own prize property. And now he’s taking off his coat, laughing and joking with his new-found friends. He sits beside them, leaning in, giving them his full attention,including the lady who was dressed in the Mrs Claus suit earlier.
So I do my best to give my new-found friends the same attention, even if boring Billy is already sending me to sleep with his tales of woe.
I could top his anytime, but I can’t be bothered. I’ll finish this drink and then I’m out of here.
‘Can I walk you to the door?’ Billy asks me when I bid my farewells.
I glance for Charlie. He is already looking my way.
