by Lisa Hobman
Mallory burst out laughing. ‘No, a simple hello will suffice.’ She bent to say hello to Angus who slobbered all over her face.
Greg laughed. ‘I’ll not do that either, I promise.’
Mallory wiped her face on the back of her sleeve. ‘Thank goodness!’ she retorted.
Greg headed straight through to the kitchen. ‘Sit yoursel’ down, I’ll make us a coffee.’ Mallory couldn’t be bothered to argue, so she sat. ‘I got that new tap sorted. I just need to fit it and then you’re away,’ he called over the increasing noise of the kettle.
‘Great.’ She yawned and stretched. She felt like she had run a marathon.
Greg came through to the lounge with two steaming mugs. ‘So, I spoke to Stella last night.’ He grinned and she guessed this meant she had a new job. ‘She says you’re very welcome to come and give it a go. See what you think. What do you reckon, eh?’
She pursed her lips. ‘Oh… great, yes, thanks.’
Greg waved an arm at her. ‘No, no, calm down with your mad enthusiasm you’ll do yourself an injury.’
Feeling a stab of guilt, Mallory shook her head. ‘Sorry. I just… I’ve had second thoughts… I’m not sure I’m ready… it’s only been a few weeks, Greg.’
‘Hey, no one knows better than I do about this shit. And I say, grab the bull by the horns and get out and meet people.’
She knew he was right. Life would go on; she didn’t know how, but go on it must.
‘Anyways, I said you’d be there tonight at about six so I can show you the ropes, eh?’
‘Okay.’ She cringed. ‘I’ll be there.’
They finished their coffee, making small talk about the weather, things on the news and the fact that her friends were going to come up for a visit in June for her birthday. Greg latched onto the last bit with enthusiasm.
‘So, am I right in thinking you’ll be the big three-oh, eh?’ He grinned.
‘Don’t remind me. I feel old.’ She rubbed her face and her shoulders hunched.
‘Ah, rubbish. You’re a wee bairn.’ He shrugged off her comment. ‘Wait til you’re my age then you’ll feel old.’
‘What age is that then?’ She had wondered this since she’d met him. She reckoned he was one of the people who hid their age well… but just how well?
‘Guess,’ he challenged her with a glint in his eye.
‘I may offend you,’ she warned.
‘Na. I don’t offend that easily. Age is just a number.’
‘Okay… you asked for it…’ She pretended to ponder for a moment. ‘…erm… fifty-five?’ she teased.
A look of horror spread across his face and he sat open-mouthed.
She punched him playfully on the arm. ‘Ahhh you said you wouldn’t get offended! Age is just a number remember!’
‘You cheeky wee mare.’ He laughed. ‘Go on, seriously, how old would you say I am?’
‘Seriously? About thirty-four… maybe thirty-five?’ It was genuinely what she thought.
His chest puffed out. ‘Na. I’m thirty-eight next birthday.’ He seemed proud of the fact. ‘I just look bloody good for my age.’ He laughed again.
So that explains why he talked about me as his ‘little sister’ the other night and why he’s so old-school when it comes to music.
‘Yes, it’s your modesty I admire the most,’ she mocked sarcastically. He really didn’t look thirty-seven though.
He made a face at her. ‘Right, I’m off to get this tap sorted. I need that chalkboard making and if it’s the sink holding you back, I’ll make sure it doesn’t stand in your way.’
Greg put his empty cup in the sink and headed straight for the workshop. Just like last time, she ran upstairs, showered and dressed.
She strolled up to the workshop with more coffee and got out the bits and pieces she needed to start on Greg’s board. She decided she was going to paint a top section in the same blue as the pub door and then write ‘Greg McBradden Playing Live Here.’ The bottom part would be chalkboard so he could write the dates on. She found a piece of wood in amongst her offcuts that would be the perfect size and set about undercoating it. They both worked in silence apart from the iPod, this time belting out a little Pearl Jam. And, of course, Greg sang along.
The tap was finished around lunchtime and he turned the handle to show Malory the cascading water. ‘Right, I’ll be off then. Think I’ll give the boat another try today. There seemed to be a few tourists around and I think the rental cottage just up from the shop has a large family staying, so fingers crossed.’
She waved him off at the front door and got back to work on the board.
At five that night she showered again, to rid herself of the paint splats. She was very pleased with the job she had made and was happy that the weather had been warm enough to enable it to dry and be completed all in the day. It was ready to take with her when she went over to the pub.
She rummaged through her clothes looking for something suitable for her first night working in the pub. She found a pair of black trousers and a fitted, V-necked black and grey top with a paisley pattern. She straightened her long tresses and applied make-up. When she looked at herself in her full-length mirror she actually liked what she saw for the first time in ages. She didn’t look quite so pale and her eyes were showing the life they had before Sam’s passing. She opted for contacts, pulled on her black jacket, picked up the brown paper wrapped board and set out for the pub, leaving Ruby curled up in her favourite spot in front of the fireplace, regardless of the fact there was no fire lit.
Her nerves were shredded by the time she had walked the few hundred yards to the pub. Stella greeted her warmly. She was such a lovely bubbly woman and put Mallory at ease straight away.
‘I’ll leave you in the capable hands of Greg then. It’s my night off and I really feel like putting my feet up.’ Stella lifted up the bar to allow Mallory through.
Once she had hung her coat in the back, Mallory took the package back through to Greg who was chatting to Ron at the bar.
A huge grin spread across Greg’s face. ‘Is that what I think it is?’ he asked.
‘Hmm, depends what you think it is,’ she toyed with him.
‘I think it’s my chalkboard,’ he said hopefully.
‘Then in that case you would be correct.’ She handed him the package and he ripped off the paper like a kid on Christmas morning. She laughed at his enthusiasm.
He held the board at arm’s length but didn’t speak. His grin was gone.
Oh great, he thinks it’s rubbish, Mallory worried to herself.
‘Mallory, Mallory, Mallory… it’s bloody brilliant!’ Greg shook his head as a huge grin returned to his face.
Phew! Mallory silently breathed a sigh of relief.
‘Bloody brilliant!’ he repeated, ‘I love it!’ He turned it to show Ron.
‘Aye she’s a talented lassie, our Mallory.’ He nodded, smiling.
Our Mallory. Her heart warmed at Ron’s choice of words.
Greg put the board down leaning it up against the bar. He turned to Mallory and for a moment looked rather awkward. Eventually he grabbed her and hugged her hard enough that she almost felt winded. Her cheeks heated at his show of gratitude. When he freed her she just smiled, not really knowing what to say.
Greg’s cheeks coloured and he fidgeted, running his hands through his hair. He obviously didn’t do public displays of affection comfortably. He muttered something under his breath about keeping it out of the way so it didn’t get damaged and walked out towards the back of the pub. Mallory looked at Ron and they both chuckled.
When Greg returned he had pulled himself together and began to show Mallory the ropes. He showed her how to operate the till, take food orders, where the glasses were kept, how to measure out shorts, and everything else he could think to teach her.
Then came the moment she had been dreading. She knew how folks, especially men, could be rather picky about the way their beer was served. She was aware that too much fro
th – ‘It’s called a head,’ Greg had corrected her – was a bad thing but not enough froth – ‘Head, Mallory!’ – was just as bad.
She gulped as Greg showed her how to tilt the glass at just the right angle. Not too far. The beer slid down the side of the glass and he slowly brought it to an upright position as the glass filled. Impressive, he makes that look easy.
It was her turn. The first pint was all froth – sorry, head. Greg and Ron howled with laughter. Mallory felt her cheeks heat again. The second, all beer, no head. The men laughed again. Mallory was annoyed and stamped her foot like a petulant child. The third was better and had potential, according to Greg and Ron.
Greg decided it was time to let Mallory loose on the customers, so he stood back and gestured for her to serve the couple who came to the bar. Once she was done and had managed to get their order correct and give them the right change, she felt quite proud of herself. Greg and Ron gave her a mini round of applause.
Ron beamed. ‘Aye, you’re a natural, lassie. And you’ll certainly brighten this place up, if you know what I mean.’ He gestured towards Greg and winked at her, making her giggle.
Greg thankfully didn’t see Ron’s gesture. ‘See, I told you you’d be fine. Now you’ll need to decide what hours you’d like to do, but really, I could do with some help on the nights I’m playing here. You know when the crowds hear about my gig and they come swarming in droves.’ He chuckled and Mallory rolled her eyes.
Chapter Seven
June 2015
Mallory was really enjoying working at the pub. She had made several new friends and had mastered the art of pint pulling in the two weeks since she had begun perfecting the skill. Greg had been great and they had laughed a lot during their shifts together. The chalkboard had made an appearance when Greg had played his second gig, which had been surprisingly busy.
It was a week until her birthday, but she hadn’t heard anything from Josie about when her and Brad were coming up, which was more than a little disappointing. But knowing her friends of old she felt sure they would be in touch soon to make the necessary arrangements; after all they knew how important it was to her for them to be with her on her first birthday since Sam’s death.
She stood behind the bar on the night of Greg’s third gig and he was, as always, dressed for the occasion. Tonight, he wore a white linen shirt and he had married it with khaki combats. Very smart, Mallory smiled. Although, why he felt he had to look different on the other side of the bar befuddled her.
‘You look terrified,’ she commented as he stood drinking a glass of cola. ‘What’s up?’
‘Ah, nothing. I always get like this before I go on. Goodness knows why. I’m a grown man.’
‘Age has nothing to do with it. We all get nervous, Greg. You’ll be fine.’
He checked the clock and so did she. Eight, time to go on and the bar had filled up nicely. People enjoyed coming to hear him sing and Mallory enjoyed it too.
He took his position at the mic and lifted his guitar onto his lap. ‘Evening all, anyone would think something was going on with all of yous turning up tonight,’ he joked. ‘As always, I’ll steer clear of my own stuff but be warned, one of these days I’m going to sneak one in when you’re not looking.’ A low mumble of laughter ran around the pub. ‘Don’t forget, no singing along, it puts me off and yous lot can’t sing anyway.’ The usual jovial boos and light-hearted heckles came.
‘Right, this first song is a wee bit obscure, but I love it, so tough if you don’t.’ He smiled. ‘It’s by a band called Nirvana who take me back to my younger days. I’d like to dedicate this to someone who I think I can now class as a good mate. Mallory, this is for you. It’s called “About a Girl”.’
He began to strum his guitar and his eyes closed as they always did when he first started to play. Mallory was touched by his gesture and when he opened his eyes and looked her way she smiled her approval as she bobbed around to the music. He nodded and winked at her with a cheeky grin. The song felt quite appropriate too given their long chats about their lost loves.
Greg’s set was very well received and he even had a swarm of young women around him by the end of the night. They had been in last time, but hadn’t dared approach him. This time they had obviously acquired a little Dutch courage. They giggled and played with their hair as they chatted to him and he seemed a little embarrassed but also appeared to be enjoying the attention.
Mallory chuckled at how the girls flirted and batted their eyes. ‘Get you with your groupies,’ she joked when he came over to the bar, finally rid of the mini harem.
‘Aye, they cannae resist.’ He blushed. ‘What did you think tonight, matey?’ he asked. She smiled at the new term of endearment she seemed to have been allocated.
She scrunched her face. ‘I thought it was a bit rubbish really.’ She carried on emptying the dishwasher under the bar. He looked hurt. ‘God, for someone who doesn’t get offended easily, you get offended… easily!’ She threw a bar towel at him. ‘You were fab as always, you numpty.’
Greg frowned. ‘Great choice of words. Remind me to get you to critique my first album, eh?’ He threw the towel back at her.
‘I especially liked the Nirvana track you opened with.’
‘Aye well, that’ll be before your time, eh? You being such a kid,’ he teased.
‘Oy! I remember Nirvana very well thank you.’ Mallory went through to the back to get her coat.
‘Are you finished up here? I’ll walk you home if you like?’
‘Why? Scared some of your groupies will be waiting outside?’ Her turn to tease him now.
‘Funny.’ He made a face at her. ‘Actually, I could murder a coffee and I’ve none left at home.’ He grinned.
‘Cheeky sod.’ She laughed.
They walked back to Mallory’s and were greeted by a very giddy little black dog who sniffed at Greg and followed him around, scenting her new canine friend. Mallory went to put the kettle on.
‘Your answering machine light is flashing,’ Greg hollered into the kitchen.
‘Oh right, thanks.’ She made the coffee and carried it through to the lounge, placing it on the tree stump table.
She hit ‘play’ on the answering machine. ‘Oh hi, Mally. It’s Josie… look I’m really sorry, but we can’t make it up for your birthday. Brad has a lot on with his latest job and we just won’t get the time to come up. I’m sure you understand, babe. I’ll ring you later. Love you! Bye, bye.’
Devastated, Mallory slumped onto the sofa. Josie and Brad hadn’t been up since the funeral and she missed them like mad. How could they miss her birthday? They promised they’d be here.
Greg came and sat beside her and rested an arm loosely around her shoulder.
‘Hey, don’t worry. We’ll still have a laugh. I’ll keep you entertained.’
She tried to smile but was so disappointed she was on the verge of tears.
He nudged her. ‘Look, we’ll have drinks at the pub and then take a bucket barbie onto the beach and I’ll cook a steak, eh?’ He was being very kind, but it just wasn’t going to be the same.
She nodded. ‘Yes, thanks, Greg, I appreciate it.’
‘My pleasure, you’re only thirty once, eh? I’ll expect the same, mind you, for my fortieth.’
*
Saturday, June thirteenth came around very quickly. And as Stella had insisted she take the day off work for her birthday, Mallory had a lazy day. She had received cards through the post from friends in Yorkshire including Josie and Brad, from her ‘family’ in Canada and from some of her local friends. She had felt a little depressed and had got the photo album out of her last birthday when Sam had taken her to Edinburgh as a surprise.
They had stayed in the four-poster suite in the stunning Dunstane House Hotel just minutes away from the shops at Princes Street. They’d had the most wonderful time. They visited the Dungeon and had a silly photo taken of Mallory pretending to chop off Sam’s head. The museums were fascinating and the architec
ture superb. They’d shopped in Jenner’s department store and Sam had bought her the most beautiful dress to wear for dinner on her birthday. It was a deep purple fabric with a chiffon overlay. The bodice fitted her perfectly and made the most of her curves. Sam had been undressing her with his eyes, desperate to get her out of it the whole evening. She loved it. She sighed as she remembered…
*
June 2014
‘My God, you’re just so sexy in that dress, Miss Yorkshire.’ Sam kissed her hand as they sat side by side in the cab on the way back to the hotel.
‘Why thank you, Mr Canada,’ she giggled. She loved the way he looked at her.
He leaned towards her. ‘I’ve been imagining you naked all night,’ he whispered.
Mallory checked to make sure the driver couldn’t hear their conversation. ‘I’ve been imagining you getting me naked all night too,’ she whispered back.
They arrived back at the hotel and, having no patience to wait for the elevator, they almost ran up the stairs to their suite.
Once inside the door, Sam grabbed Mallory by the waist and removed the clip which pulled some of her hair back from her face. He devoured her mouth with his own and explored with his tongue. He set her body on fire with his passionate kisses and she grabbed at his hair pressing her tongue into his mouth.
He stopped kissing her and turned her around to slide the zipper down to where it finished just above her bottom. She had dressed in the bathroom and so he had no idea what lay beneath the jewel-coloured fabric. He slid the dress down over her hips and gasped when he saw the basque and stockings. He turned her round and gently caressed the flesh at the top of her breasts where the basque had pushed them up into creamy white mounds. Then he kissed where he had just touched.
She loosened his tie and unfastened his shirt, sliding it off at the same time as his jacket. They gazed longingly at each other and were unable to wait any longer. Sam kicked off his shoes, tugged off his socks and unfastened his trousers, sliding them off quickly. She loved the heat in his eyes as they tumbled on to the four-poster bed, and within seconds he was making love to her.
