Page 16 of Fix Them Up
About forty people stared at me curiously. I gave a weak smile as I shuffled to the bar, desperate to find Sandy and justify my existence. I walked up to the bar, my foot tapping repeatedly. I was beginning to get desperate when a blonde head appeared from a room behind the bar.
My stomach dropped. Oh god.
‘Hiya, love.’ My auntie Sandra hadn’t looked up yet, busying herself putting away pint glasses. ‘Have you got your membership card?’
Her voice sparked a memory – the church – the musty smell, incense, and candle wax. Panic rose in my throat, and my cheeks were red with shame. Before I had a chance to flee, Sandra turned around and faced me. Her dark green eyes went wide, her mouth a perfect ‘O’. Sandra always had the perfectly quaffed blonde bob, and today was no exception.
‘Kat? What –’ She rushed around the bar.
‘Hi, Sandra,’ I said meekly. She pulled me into her chest, and the dark sludge of shame filled me.
Sandra pulled back, her hand coming up to my cheek as she inspected my face. ‘What are you doing here? Are you okay? Do you need money?’
I laughed despite myself. ‘No, no. I’m fine. I’m sorry. I thought Lydia would have mentioned it. Dad left me the house on Evanshore Road.’
‘Evanshore Road? Where our Brian grew up?’
‘Yeah. He bought it a year ago and didn’t tell anyone.’
Sandra frowned. ‘Why don’t I get you a drink, and you can tell me all about it?’
Ten minutes later, I had explained the whole plan to Sandra, but I hadn’t touched the pint of Guinness in front of me. I stared at it like it was my worst enemy. Sandra had been supportive, offering help if I needed it and promised to tell Brian, too.
‘We’ll get that house sorted out in no time, love.’ Sandra patted me on the arm. ‘I’ll add it to the agenda for tonight.’
‘The agenda?’ I frowned.
‘The quarterly members meeting is happening in –’ Her eyes widened as she checked her watch. ‘About fifteen minutes. Shit.’
‘Oh – don’t worry about putting it on the agenda. Please,’ I insisted, as Sandra’s attention moved away.
‘Ray!’ she shouted to the man crooning in the silver waistcoat. ‘Ray! Five minutes, then we need to set up.’
Ray halted mid-way through ‘Fly Me to the Moon’, his face turning chartreuse. He stomped his foot. ‘Sandra, I am mid-set.’
‘Ray, I told you –’
Ray threw down his cravat. ‘They would have never done this to Ol’ Blue Eyes. I’ll tell you that for free! Every week, Sandra. I never get my slot –’
He continued to argue with Sandra, who cocked her hip and argued back. Ray had moved on to complaining about football taking precedence over ‘culturally significant performances’ when the door swung open, and a burst of colour walked in in the shape of my cousin. Lydia scanned the room, finding me perched on a table between the two events, not wanting to side with either.
‘Mum texted me that you were here. Oh my god.’ Lydia gasped as she stared at my Guinness. ‘How on earth are you drinking that?’
‘Well, I usually like a Guinness, but after last night, whenyouled me astray…’ I cocked an eyebrow.
‘It wasn’t my fault!’
‘You Uber Eats’d that last bottle of prosecco!’ I exclaimed.
Lydia winced. ‘I thought we needed one more.’
‘Everyone knows you never need one more.’
Lydia grinned. ‘It’s so weird seeing you here at the club. It’s like seeing a teacher outside of school. Did you get a nosebleed on the M6 coming this far up north?’
‘You know I don’t have a car. Never needed one.’
Lydia shook her head. ‘Londoners.’
