by Vicky Jones
“Is that all you care about, Frank? How I look? Can’t sell a wreck, can you?” Lucy snapped, lifting her head to face him.
“Of course it’s not. But you’re the best bartender I got, baby. You’re keepin’ the roof over our head. If it wasn’t for you and how… hard you’re workin’, I don’t know where we’d be. I need you, darlin’.” He held her face in his hands. “Hey, how about I let you take a few nights off, huh? And a promise is a promise. I’ll let Trish have your guys from now on, OK? Whaddaya say?” His eyes had a kindness in them she hadn’t seen since the day they’d met.
“You mean it?” she asked, wiping her nose on her sleeve.
“God’s honest, baby. I’m gonna keep you all to myself from now on.”
It was just over a week from that night and Lucy still hadn’t had a chance to properly explain to Shona what had gone on inside that room. It seemed a massive coincidence to her that every day since that night Harry had sent Shona out on deliveries that took up the whole working day. Aching to put it right, Lucy had gone round to Dorothy’s most evenings, but the old lady wouldn’t let her in the house. She knew Dorothy was protective of Shona, but recently she’d been even more so.
It was Friday morning, May 3, and, returning from Wreckers for the fifth time that week, Lucy walked up to the bar and sat on a stool. Resting her head on her palm, she wasn’t in the slightest bit interested in what Norm was rattling on about.
“Hey boss, I was just telling young Lucy here about the big news going around town!” Norm hollered over to Frank, who had just descended the stairs.
“Damn right, Norm. I just been on the phone hearin’ about all the ideas for the fair from the plannin’ committee. They want the bar to be front and center. Pool competitions, food and drink, poker night, you name it. We’ll make so much money it’ll be obscene.” Frank slapped Norm hard on the back, making the middle-aged man stumble forward a step. “That Max Whitfield is the best thing to happen to this town in years.” His beaming face changed as he looked over at Lucy, who had barely said a word to him all day. Taking a deep breath to steady his voice, he walked up next to her
“What’s eatin’ you? That blonde still not talkin’ to you?”
“No. I can’t catch a second with her to explain what happened last week. When’s the fair?” Lucy asked.
“July, I think,” Norm replied.
“That’s right. Gives us just over two months to prepare and get this place spruced up proper. A gold mine is coming to town, I tell ya.”
Lucy smiled in all the right places, but her mind couldn’t stop turning over.
“You’re late tonight again. I don’t like you out on that recovery truck past eight o’clock.”
Dorothy placed a large bowl of clam chowder on the table in front of Shona, who looked exhausted as she picked up her spoon.
“I don’t mind. Gets me out of town for a while,” she replied, her voice barely audible. “Harry sends one of the guys with me anyway so it’s cool. I like the freedom. Anyway, now we’re into May the nights are starting to get lighter. No need to worry ‘bout me.”
“You not hungry?” Dorothy asked, noticing Shona staring at her untouched bowl. Smiling, Shona dipped a piece of bread in her bowl and began to eat. “She came by again earlier. I told her you weren’t here,” Dorothy said, dropping two lumps of sugar into her coffee cup and stirring.
“Probably for the best.”
“Shona, no matter what happened in the past, I can see you’re a good person inside.”
“That means a lot, Dorothy. More than you know,” Shona replied, reaching over the table and clamping her hand over the old lady’s.
Chapter 23
Shona and Lucy hardly spoke to each other during the following week, with both of them working at different ends of the days. In the mornings Lucy would head off to college, she would wave over to Shona, to receive only a cursory glance and the merest nod back. A day had rolled into two, and then three. Every time Lucy saw Shona return from a call, she would head across the street to Wreckers, but by the time she’d arrived Shona would have melted into the evening again.
Then late Friday afternoon, two weeks after the incident in the bar, Lucy looked out of her apartment window and saw Shona pulling the heavy wooden garage doors together. Knowing the other mechanics would have left hours earlier, Lucy saw her opportunity and raced down the metal steps of the fire escape.
“Hey.”
Shona spun around to see Lucy standing on the edge of the sidewalk behind her. She lifted her hand to wave and waited for Shona’s reaction.
Taking an eternity to respond, Shona squeezed out an apathetic, “Hi.”
“Been so long since I talked to you, I think I’ve forgotten how to. I’ve missed you.” Lucy half-smiled.
“I been busy,” Shona replied, turning back to the doors to wrap a chain through the handles and clunk the padlock closed. Pulling on it once to check it was secure, Shona took a huge intake of breath and headed towards her truck, striding straight past Lucy who stared open-mouthed at her.
“Coincidence, though, isn’t it? After months of us getting on so well, then that night you see me…” She paused. “And all of a sudden you’re busy all the time?” Lucy scolded, her hand resting on her hip as she stared at Shona. “What is it with you? You think I’ve been lying to you all this time? Well, that’s rich. Who the hell are you to judge me? Given how closed off you are to spilling your secrets.” She paused as she saw a flicker of acknowledgement to that fact on Shona’s face. “I ain’t proud of what I done, you know. You think I like what I had to do for money?”
Shona bowed her head. After a moment she turned around. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“It’s not fun for me, you know. Frank says he can’t keep that bar going without my help.” Lucy tried to make eye contact with Shona. “I’m trying my best. I told Frank, that night you saw me, it was gonna be the last night I’d do the extras. And then you go and see me, don’t you.” She shook her head in anguish, then wiped her nose on the back of her sleeve. “I’m even going to college every single day now. I ain’t let my aunt’s advice go completely to waste,” she added, hoping that would make a difference.
“Is that ‘cos you wanna go there or because your parents’ll stop sending you money if you don’t?” Shona shot back.
“Wow, that was harsh,” she said. “But you’re right. The dean called me into his office a week ago wanting to discuss my attendance record since Christmas.” She raised an eyebrow, not needing to elaborate further.
“He tell your parents?” Shona asked, her tone a little more sympathetic than before.
“No. But he said he would unless I attended every day from now on. I gave him a sob story, turned on the waterworks, you know. I’m lucky. The dean is one of my father’s oldest friends. They were at Yale together. How do you think I got into college in the first place with my high school record?” Lucy hesitated, her gaze drifting off to the horizon. “But…”
“But what? That’s good, isn’t it? He’s given you a second chance at making something of yourself. Anyone would kill for that opportunity,” Shona replied, half-smiling.
“I just… Oh Shona, I don’t know,” Lucy cried out, spinning around. She clamped her hand over her face and exhaled in frustration. “It just feels like… You know? There’s just something missing. Can you understand that? I know I’ll go to college and I’ll get my teaching diploma one day, but I just think I need to get out and travel more. See new things, new places.” She paused and looked at Shona. “Be more like you.”
Shona’s eyes met Lucy’s. “Believe me, you do not want to be like me.”
“Why? What’s so wrong with you, Shona?”
They both stood staring at each other for the next five seconds, the tension between them almost tangible until Shona blinked first.
“Look, would it really be so bad to go home to your parents and tell them the truth? Your mom will forgive what you did. Moms always u
nderstand.” Shona wrapped her fingers around her pink pebble necklace, then stepped closer to Lucy, who closed her eyes and shook her head.
“What, and tell her I blew my chance of getting a real career and making her proud? Shall I tell my school principal mother that her only child, her precious daughter, decided that a better option for her future was to hook up with the first good-looking guy she met, then let him talk her into fucking guys for money? Then, on top of that little bombshell, I tell my well-to-do surgeon father that his sweet little angel also swallowed drugs to relax her while she did it? And now she can’t function properly most days without them ‘cos the flashbacks of those guys pawing at her make her feel physically sick and, on top of that, she lied to them on the phone about how great school was? Yeah, I’m sure they’d really enjoy hearing all that, don’t you?” Lucy swayed, her face staring at the sky. “Just because one day she fell for a guy at a bus station who told her she was beautiful. Now, here I am.” She swept her arms out wide.
Shona moved towards Lucy and held her gently by the shoulders to calm her down. “They might not understand why you lied to them before. They might not get why you almost ditched college for Frank. But they wouldn’t want you to be doing what you were doing that night I saw you, Lucy. They’d just want you to come home. Maybe start college again next year.”
Lucy stared at Shona, not sure whether her words were comforting or critical. Suddenly, from nowhere, she found the courage to ask Shona the question she had been so curious to ask for all the time she’d known her.
“So, if you really believe all that, why are you running? Why can’t you go home?”
Chuck stood outside the bar watching the two women across the street. Lucy had been waving her arms around one minute and, just as he was about to march over there, it all seemed to calm down. But within seconds the hairs on the back of his neck began to bristle when he saw Shona step forward and lay her hands on Lucy’s shoulders. Fighting his natural protective instinct, Chuck also noted a different sensation running through his blood.
Jealousy.
Shona flinched at the bluntness of Lucy’s question. Incapable of fighting the panic she felt in that moment, she backed away and stood facing the garage doors, her breathing labored from the pounding in her chest.
“Every time you used to come in that bar, you’d look around as if the devil himself was after you. You almost passed out when I mentioned that D.C. guy from Louisiana until you found out what the D.C. stood for, and I don’t think you could even point Tennessee out on a map, let alone convince me that you lived there all your life. You think I don’t notice all these things?” Lucy stepped forward towards Shona, who leaned on the garage doors holding her stomach as it lurched and twisted inside her.
“You don’t know nothing about me,” she muttered.
“’Cos you won’t let me know nothing. I thought we were supposed to be friends? All those months we hung out together before Christmas? Pretty much every day. Did they mean nothing to you? Friends trust each other.” Lucy took a step towards Shona who had turned deathly pale. “Whatever it is, Shona, you can tell me. What are you so scared of?” Noticing Shona’s body sliding down the garage doors, Lucy lurched forwards. The second her hands reached Shona’s waist, Shona ripped herself away. Her eyes were brimming with tears.
“Why can’t you just leave me alone, huh? I don’t want you hanging around me anymore. Go do what you wanna do, I don’t wanna see it. It’s none of my goddamn business, alright? Just leave me out of it.” Shona stumbled towards the truck and without even a glance back to Lucy, floored the gas pedal.
Chapter 24
By the time June came around, many households were still behind in their preparations for the town fair coming their way in five weeks. Numerous house fronts and porches were still in the process of being repaired and repainted and all the local businesses were being spruced up with new awnings and bunting.
Traipsing along the sidewalk through the main center of town that Thursday afternoon, Lucy looked over to Wreckers. She’d lost count now of the amount of times she had said “hi” to Shona and received only a faint nod back for her trouble. Their friendship had waned to a point where it now seemed almost irretrievable.
“Well, good afternoon, Miss Lucy. How’s the studying going?” Jake greeted her from the top of his stepladder as he scrubbed the grocery store window ledges.
“Hi Jake,” Lucy replied, still staring over to the garage. “It’s going well, thank you for asking.”
“Good, good. I’m glad to see you doing something better with your time than working in there all hours,” Jake added, stroking his bushy moustache and nodding sideways to Chasers.
Lucy smiled, but deep down she knew he was right.
There were only four weeks to go to the fair and Max Whitfield was starting to get twitchy.
“Smith, I need a word. Now!” he bellowed as he swung the doors to the bar wide open and scanned the area inside. His cane clipped the bare wood floorboards as he limped over.
“Hey Max, what can I do for you on this fine Saturday mornin’?” Frank drawled as he leaned back in his booth.
“Don’t give me that sweet talk, Smith,” Whitfield replied, sitting in the booth and tossing his fedora onto the table, almost knocking Frank’s glass into his lap. “I got high hopes for this fair, then I walk past this place and it’s still showing no signs of improving its appearance. That shitty paint you insist on using is chipping away again, that front window is still cracked and what the goddamn hell is that smell?” Whitfield pinched his nose. “You got a blocked toilet or something?”
“Yep. Don’t worry, Max, it’s on the list.” Frank smirked. “Although, I might need a bit more money to get that sorted out now too.”
Whitfield threw his arms out in indignation. “What about that money I already gave you, huh?”
“I invested it,” Frank replied, spreading his legs out in his seat.
“I bet you did.” Whitfield shook his head and looked down at all the empty shot glasses and bottles that littered Frank’s table. “Look, Frank. There’s nothing to be gained from us butting heads on this one. I want this place to look good, I’m sure you do too. So, here’s my proposal. I’ll arrange for the council to release more funds to have this place fixed up, kitchen, bar area, everywhere. Even the john. But, in return, I want forty percent of the profits from now on.”
“What? You gotta be kiddin’,” Frank scoffed, going to pour himself another drink from the half-empty bottle of scotch on his table.
Whitfield smiled and, with the tip of his cane, held the bottle back. “Now, you know that’s the best offer you’re gon’ get. I’ve seen the building inspector’s report and it don’t make good reading.” He paused. “I can get him off your back too.”
Frank smacked his lips and leveled his stare at Whitfield. “No.”
Allowing Frank to pour his drink, Whitfield curled his lip and sat back in his seat before making his next move. “Unless… you want me to tell the inspector you have no intention of fixing up this place? I wonder how he’d feel about that? Probably shoot straight down here, that’s my guess.”
Frank snarled, slamming his glass down after downing his shot. “You can’t do that.”
“Sonny boy, have you forgotten who I am? I can do whatever the fuck I like in this town now, right?” Whitfield smirked. “Do you have the slightest comprehension of just how easy it would be for me to shut you down? Hell, I could even get you charged for the illegal activity you got going on up there,” he added, flicking his eyes to the balcony walkway above their heads. “I’ll be back tomorrow for your decision,” he whispered, getting up and leaving Frank to seethe.
Chuck walked up to Frank’s booth to find him glaring at the exit. “What’d Whitfield want?”
“We’re runnin’ out of time. Get those friends of yours together and collect up whatever paint, wood, nails you can find. We need to get this place perfect, fast.” Frank focused his eyes on Ch
uck. “Whaddaya say, partner?”
Chuck’s face illuminated. “Really? You mean it?”
Frank nodded.
“Can I come in?”
Lucy had been standing on Dorothy’s front porch for three minutes and thirty-eight seconds that Saturday afternoon, trying to convince her that she meant no trouble before the old lady finally tutted and opened the door.
“Alright. But Shona’s not here, she’s gone for a walk. Like I told you on the porch. Three times,” Dorothy said as she left Lucy to close the door behind them.
“That’s OK. It was you I came to speak to,” Lucy announced. Dorothy turned around in surprise and stared at her, her arms folded and resting on her apron.
“Me? And why’s that?”
“I wanted to ask you something. About Shona.”
Dorothy turned away and headed into her kitchen. “Did you close the door properly?” she called behind her.
Perplexed at the old lady’s dismissal of her request, Lucy walked back to the front door. Noticing the gap around the edge where it wasn’t quite fitting in the frame properly, she pushed hard on it, clunking the door into place. She then walked into the kitchen and leaned against the counter.
“So, what I wanted to ask was—”
“Was it shut? Shona keeps patching it up, but I think I’m gonna have to get a new one.” Dorothy tasted the soup she was heating through, nodded, then set the pan to one side. Looking up at Lucy, her wrinkly blue eyes hardened. “Shona told me about you. What she’d seen you doing that night. It upset her to see you like that.”
