‘Really?’ She took the card. ‘That’s great. Do you want to do an interview or....’
‘Sure, perhaps we could arrange a suitable time?’
‘Pop along to the re-opening tomorrow. I’m sure I could spare a few minutes.’
‘Great, I’ll see you then.’
She swung around. ‘You never guess what?’ She squealed to Jess. ‘We’ve got the interest of the local paper.’
‘That’s excellent, Darcy. Trudy has shown up, too. She’s over there.’ She pointed to the table.
‘Great, while it’s quiet, we’ll sort out the wedding, come on.’ She grabbed a few glasses and filled them with wine and brought them over to the table.
‘Drinking your stock, eh?’ Trudy said, taking a glass. ‘So have you got the dress?’
‘Here,’ she took her designs out of her folder and passed Trudy her drawing pad.
Darcy waited with anticipation as she watched Trudy frown, then smile, and then pursed her lips.
‘I love it. You have a gift. I don’t know why I didn’t think of hiring a designer.’
‘That’s a relief, so we’re set for the 24th then?’
‘Yes. By the way, who was that you were speaking to just now?’
‘A reporter from the Daily News. He’s coming to write an article on the pub tomorrow night.’
‘I told you things would work out, didn’t I?’
Darcy saw a few people come into the pub and rose to her feet. She had a lot of work to do before it was ready for the opening night. ‘I’d best get to work then, speak to you later.’
Darcy brought out a box of her grandmother’s things and set them on the bar. ‘Right, I think it’s time to bring the past alive, then.’ She hung the picture of Churchill and her gran on the wall next to the piano. ‘Mr. Jones, do you know anyone who can play this?’ She opened the lid and played Jingle Bells. ‘I only know this song.’
‘I think everyone knows how to play that song,’ laughed Jess.
‘There was a lad who used to drink here that played. I’m not sure if he still lives around here now. Why don’t you stick a notice in the window for someone?’
Darcy smiled. ‘What would I do without you here for the past couple of months, eh?’
There were footsteps behind her, and she glanced over her shoulder, surprised to see Gareth.
‘Finished early?’ She asked.
He came towards the piano and gently slipped her hand from the keys. ‘Yeah, short day today. So did I hear you needed a piano player?’ He asked and then sat down on the stool.
‘Someone who can play more than Jingle Bells,’ she laughed as she watched him break into a rendition of ‘We’ll Meet Again.’
Darcy leaned against the piano, with one arm propped on the top as she watched his long fingers glide over the keys. She caught him to look her way a few times and realised that she was falling for him. Hard.
‘I could play a few nights. That’s if you want me too?’ He told her. ‘I won’t charge you.’
‘Would you really? It’ll only be until I can find someone permanent. Thank you.’
‘Anytime. It beats sitting upstairs on my own.’
‘I’ll get you a drink, on the house.’ She returned to the bar, cheeks flushed and heart pounding crazily against her chest.
‘Someone’s in love,’ Jess said when she returned to the bar.
‘Shush, he can hear you.’ She whispered. ‘And no...’ Darcy stopped herself, shrugged it off and went to collect a glass from the bar. ‘Okay, you win. Maybe I like him, but he’s only here for a while and then he’s off on another job. Besides, I don’t even know if he has a girlfriend.’
‘You’re going to the War Rooms this afternoon, aren’t you? So ask him then. But I highly doubt it, Darcy. Look at him,’ she nodded towards him. ‘Since he’s been here I’ve noticed he only has eyes for you.’
Darcy slapped her hand on her forehead. ‘I forgot I was going. Are you alright to cover for me?’
‘Of course, I told you. But how could you forget a date with him?’
Roll out the Barrel rang out around the room. Darcy looked in his direction and at the same time, Gareth lifted his head and smiled at her. ‘You’re right,’ she said to Jess and went to pour him a drink.
Chapter Eight
The song ended and a rapturous applause broke out in the room. Gareth got up from his seat, mockingly bowed and went to the bar. Darcy found herself thinking if her hair looked alright and knew then that there was no way back. She had fallen for him. And that scared her. She didn’t know if she was ready to feel that way again about someone. Let alone being with someone.
‘Are you ready for our...’ he paused, seemingly thinking of the appropriate word.
‘Day out?’ Darcy offered.
‘Yes. A day out,’ he then smiled.
‘Give me two minutes,’ she replied.
There wasn’t much time to change her clothes, so she grabbed her coat from her living room and went to join Gareth at the bar. He was sitting next to Mr. Jones, talking and just as she walked through the doorway, he looked up with a huge smile on his face. ‘Well, you look the part.’ He rose from his seat. ‘I thought we’d take the tube, is that alright?’
‘Fine with me,’ she picked up her handbag from under the bar. ‘Will you be okay?’ She turned to Jess pulling a pint.
‘Of course. Now off you go.’
‘I could always lend a hand if things get busy,’ said Mr. Jones.
‘Oh. Thank you, that’d be great.’
There was a cold nip in the air when she stepped out of the pub.
Gareth fell in step with her and they walked down towards the tube station.
‘Have a good day today?’ She asked.
‘I did,’ he pulled his mobile out of his jacket pocket ‘I also managed to find something out about our Walter, too.’
He passed her the phone. ‘He was in the 1st Battalion and was quite the hero, too.’
‘Shame we don’t have a picture, isn’t it?’
‘I’m working on it. A friend of mine back home does family research in his spare time, so I have him looking further into it.’
‘I hope it’s no trouble. I mean, I’d look myself if I knew where to start.’
‘No, no trouble at all.’ He offered her his arm. Darcy linked his arm and they headed to the underground station.
‘Thanks for agreeing to play for us. Any more talents that we should know about?’ Darcy laughed while she stood at the ticket machine. She took her purse out from her bag, but Gareth stepped in with his card. ‘No, I’d like to do this. It’s my treat today. What about you?’ He asked, heading to the turnstiles. ‘I bet there’s more to you than pulling pints and cooking.’
‘Well you know I can’t play the piano, but I’ve sung professionally in my time.’
The train slowed to a stop and the doors slid open.
‘After you,’ he said. ‘Maybe we could be a duo. You sing and me on the piano?’
The train was heaving with people. They stood in the aisle and held on to the overhead rail. It jerked slightly as it moved, slamming Darcy into Gareth. She caught a whiff of his scent, Paco Raban, which only added to his allure. She had to get a hold of herself. His hand wrapped around her on impact and when she moved, she felt his hand slowly glide across her back to her hip.
‘Sorry,’ she stood back, getting a firmer grip on the bar.
His eyes crinkled with laughter. ‘Quite alright. Glad I could be of service.’
They exited the tube at Westminster just as Big Ben chimed. A red double decker passed as the clock struck two.
‘Gosh, I haven’t been here since I was a kid on an art school trip,’ she enthused.
‘What? You’ve been in London for two months and you’ve been stuck in Paddington all that time?’
Darcy nodded. ‘Yeah,’ she stuck her hands in her coat pockets. ‘I’ve been so busy getting it clean and ready for the opening. I had no choice, really
. It has to earn, but as you’ve seen it’s been a slow start.’ She just hoped it would start picking up after the opening.
‘You’ve pulled it together though. I think the forties theme will do very well. It seems to be the thing lately, what with novels and what have you. So, I heard you want someone to play piano regularly?’ He asked, genuinely interested.
‘Why? Looking for a permanent job, are you?’ She laughed.
‘Who knows?’ he shrugged. ‘I don’t have a job after this one, so I’ll have to go back home to Dorset for a while.’
‘With your girlfriend or...?’ She inquired, then regretted being so brash.
Gareth smirked.
‘No, I’m single. You?’ He playfully nudged her arm.
‘Got a girlfriend, you mean?’ She joked. ‘No, I haven’t long come out of a long-term relationship. He was bad news, unfortunately, such a shame I didn’t figure it out sooner.’
‘Sorry to hear that. Some men don’t know what they’ve got even when it’s staring them in the face.’
‘His loss. I mean, I doubt I would ever have come to London if we were still together, so he did me a favour.’ She shrugged, walking down the street passing the parliament buildings to the right.
They came to the curb, waiting to cross the road. Big Ben chimed two o’clock and Darcy looked up like an excited child. ‘Do you remember that on the news, or am I showing my age?’
‘You’re showing your age,’ he laughed. ‘No, I must be around your age. Thirty-five?’
‘Thirty-four.’
They crossed the road when a woman bumped into Darcy, knocking her sideways into Gareth. Their hands brushed against one another’s and just as Darcy was about to apologise to him, he took her hand.
‘Is that okay?’ He asked, looking intently into her eyes.
She half expected him to crack out a joke, but it wasn’t forthcoming. Her heart pounded. ‘Yeah, it’s fine,’ she replied, now feeling her cheeks flush hot with embarrassment. Was this turning into a date? She wondered.
They reached the opposite side of the road and walked towards the War Rooms. Gareth went to the glass booth and bought the tickets.
‘Ready?’ He asked.
‘Yes, I just hope they don’t mistake me as part of the exhibition.’
Chapter Nine
‘Wow, did we win the war? Jess asked as she walked into the pub for her afternoon shift.
Darcy strained to reach the bunting above the window and flopped down on the seat, sweating and exhausted. She sat back to catch her breath as she looked around the pub at all her hard work. Union Jack buntings hung were behind the bar and across the ceiling and her grandmother’s gas mask hung on the post next to black and white pictures of VE day she had printed off the internet.
Darcy felt proud. ‘Yeah,’ she nodded at her efforts. ‘It looks like we did, eh?’ She turned to Jess still standing in the doorway gawping at all the bits and pieces Darcy had put up. ‘Jesus, what did you do to your hair?’ She rose to her feet, fascinated by the multi-coloured strips of hair.
‘It’s called unicorn hair, do you like it?’ She gave it a flick off her shoulder.
‘Gosh, yeah, it’s absolutely stunning. Wish I had the guts to go to that extreme.’
Jess laughed and went to the bar. ‘You should let me colour it for you one day.’
Darcy shook her head. ‘Oh no, I’m not as bold as you youngsters.’ She picked a box up from the floor and went through its contents.
‘Not bold, did you say? Aren’t you the one who went on a date with her tenant yesterday afternoon?’
‘It wasn’t a date,’ Darcy shrugged. Although she admitted it had felt like a date, and she wished it had been. She couldn’t wipe the smile off her face and Jess caught on.
‘Admit you like him, come on.’
Darcy’s smile slowly disappeared and she put down the picture she held of her grandmother and her as a child. ‘He’s only here temporarily. Wouldn’t it be foolish of me to get involved with someone who will be leaving just after Christmas?’ She shook her head, on the verge of tears. ‘I don’t want to get hurt. Again.’ She said softly. She picked up the box and went into her living quarters. While she wiped the smudged mascara off her face, Jess appeared by the door.
‘Sorry, Darcy, I didn’t mean...’
‘No, no, it’s not you, honestly. I think I’m just so tired.’ She looked in the mirror hanging above the fireplace. ‘I’ve got the reporter coming soon, so I’d better clean up in case he wants to take pictures,’ she chuckled.
‘Alright, well, the pub is starting to get packed, so you never know, word about this place may have already got out.’
Darcy put on her flower patterned tea dress and gave her lips another coat of red lipstick. She felt proud of what she’d achieved so far as she stepped out into the bar that hadn’t seen so much life in a long time. She instantly went to serve a customer.
‘What can I get you?’ Darcy asked over the chatter and music that had started on the piano. She looked to her side, and over several heads, she saw Gareth sat at the piano playing A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square. Her heart melted.
‘Excuse me,’ she heard and then snapped back to what she was doing.
The reporter stood behind her customer, waving to get her attention. ‘Sorry, I’ll be with you in one moment.’ She went back to serving the customer when another wanted a drink.
‘I’ll help, go and see the reporter,’ said Mr. Jones, rolling up the sleeves of his white shirt.
‘Thank you,’ she patted his shoulder and stepped around.
She pulled out a chair on the table at the back of the room and then shook his hand. ‘I didn’t expect it to get this busy, I’m sorry about that.’
He waved a dismissive hand at her comment. ‘This is what you wanted, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, it is.’
Darcy then proceeded to tell him how she came to acquire the pub and talked about the postcards she had found.
‘Would you mind if I get a picture of you and your staff?’ He looked in the direction of the piano and called Gareth. Before Darcy had a chance to explain that he wasn’t staff, the reporter already had them in position and was snapping away. ‘Thank you.’ He gave them the thumbs up. ‘Could you move a little closer,’ he instructed Darcy who was now touching shoulders with Gareth.
After several more camera flashes, the reporter thanked them and said to watch out for the weekend edition.
‘Sorry about that,’ she said to Gareth. ‘He assumed you were staff.’ She laughed.
‘No harm was done and anyway, I quite enjoyed it. How about you come and sing a song with me when things quieten down?’
‘You remembered?’
‘I don’t forget a thing, honey.’ He winked and returned back to the piano where a small crowd had gathered.
Darcy went about clearing old glasses from the tables when Trudy and Harvey came in. ‘Hello, you two. I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.’
Harvey was a tall, broad-shouldered man with thinning blonde hair. Darcy referred to him as the big friendly giant. He gave Darcy a kiss on the cheek and then looked around the pub.
Darcy shot Trudy a worried look. Fearing she hadn’t done enough in terms of repairs she waited in anticipation for his verdict. There was no way she could afford to pay back four thousand pounds right now.
‘It’s...very nice, Darcy. I like what you’ve done.’ He smiled.
Darcy let out a slow exhale. ‘Thank God for that. So it’s good enough for your wedding reception?’
‘Darcy, I know you think I’m a cold-hearted businessman, but relax, for crying out loud. I think you got something good going here. And yes, I’m more than happy to have my wedding reception here.’
‘Thanks, big man,’ she said. ‘Now I’ve got to go behind the bar, see you in a little while.’
‘Darcy, Darcy...’ everyone in the pub began chanting her name and wondered what was going on.
Garet
h stood up from behind the piano. ‘I think you owe us a song.’ He started clapping, encouraging everyone else until she finally agreed.
‘Just the one song, alright.’
He patted for her to sit next to him on the stool. ‘How about White Cliffs of Dover?’ He smiled, cheekily. He leaned close. ‘I heard you singing it yesterday,’ he whispered and began playing the song. ‘You really should close your bathroom window, it echoes.’
Trying not to laugh, she began to sing, forgetting how much she enjoyed it. The song ended with a round of applause and Gareth got her up to take a bow.
‘Beautiful,’ he whispered in her ear and then went to the bar.
She went to join Trudy and Harvey sat in a booth.
‘That was wonderful,’ Harvey raised his glass.
‘So what’s going on with you two?’ Asked Trudy. She gave a nod to Gareth. ‘Are you going to ask him to be your date to the wedding?’
‘You could ask him to play the piano,’ Harvey said.
‘Good idea,’ said Trudy. ‘Do you think he would? We'll pay him, of course.’
Darcy didn’t think she was serious for a moment but then Trudy got up from her seat.
‘I’m going to ask him.’
‘No, wait,’ Darcy followed her and dragged her back. ‘He’s leaving before Christmas.’ She rolled her eyes.
‘Like hell he is.’
‘Darce, you did say it’s alright if I have my fashion show here, didn’t you? It’s just that it’s next week.’ Jess asked, about to leave.
‘Sure, of course. See you tomorrow,’ she yawned and looked towards the piano where Gareth was still sat twinkling the ivories.
The last of the customers went and she thanked Mr. Jones for his help.
‘Would you like a job here?’ she asked him, taking a twenty pound note out of the till. ‘Here you go, for helping.’
‘No, I couldn’t possibly.’
Darcy insisted. ‘Please, you really helped me tonight. So how about a little job?’
He thought for a moment. ‘Alright, thank you. I really enjoyed it.’
‘Yes, you’re a natural, I saw you.’
‘Well, I have dabbled with bar work before, but that was back in my younger days.’ He picked up his jacket. ‘I’ll be off then, goodnight all.’ He waved.
Christmas Eve at Piccadilly Circus Page 5
