Scratch (43 page)

‘Eh,’ I said. ‘Who’d be the licensee?’

Sammy beamed. ‘See, Kate? He actually
thinks
about things like that.’

Kate looked sheepish. ‘Me, until next year,’ Sammy said. ‘Then, we’ll see. We could go for joint, or one of you could take it on by yourself. What do you think?’

I thought about it deeply for a quarter of a second. ‘I’m in.’

Sammy grinned as Kate collapsed into her chair. ‘You just saved her butt,’ Sam said. ‘If you’d said no she was in the bin.’

‘What?’ I turned to Kate, whose face was suddenly drenched in relief.

‘Cheers mate,’ she said. ‘Who’d have thought telling the truth could actually work out? You give good advice.’

The burning I felt on my cheeks suggested I was blushing. ‘It could also have gone pear-shaped and you’d have been out on your arse,’ I pointed out.

‘Don’t be defeatist,’ Sammy said.

‘Yeah,’ Kate said, not so certainly.

‘So, in terms of money…’ I began, but was interrupted by the office door being thrown open.

‘You are aware there’s no one behind the feckin’ bar?’ Paula said. ‘I don’t mind helping out but for feck’s sake, I haven’t made a cappuccino for ten years.’

‘Oh keep
yer
thong on,’ Sammy said. ‘Jim, go.’

I went.

Six new customers plus some stragglers from lunch wanting coffee kept me occupied for twenty-minutes. Paula had done most of the work before I got there. ‘Riding a bike,’ I shouted to her as the milk frothed for the last latte on order.

‘What did you call me?’ she shouted back.

‘No, you serving, it’s like riding a bike.’ The frothing complete and the milky nonsense poured, I could speak at a normal volume again. ‘I bet you clicked straight back into it.’

‘Sadly, yes,’ Paula said. ‘I got eight quid in tips, too.’

‘Nice one. You do understand that by rights that eight quid is mine.’

‘Feck off, it’s the first money I’ve earned in months. So what was all that about in there?’ Paula nodded towards the office.

‘I think I got a promotion.’

Paula’s eyes went oval. ‘Did Sam sack her?’

‘No, ‘
fraid
not. We’re going to be co-managers, apparently.’

‘What the feck’s a
co
-manager?’

‘No idea, but I’m one.’

‘And she’s the other one?’ Paula didn’t look too happy about this.

‘Seems that way,’ I said. ‘Turns out Sammy reckons she’s too good looking to lose.’

‘Did that big poof say that?’

‘Basically,’ I confirmed.

Sammy came out of the office, jacket on. ‘
Hiya
Poll-doll,’ he said to Paula, who was back on her bar stool. ‘Thanks for helping out, I needed a wee word with your man, there.’ He perched himself on the stool next to her.

‘So I’m hearing,’ Paula said. ‘I take it this co-manager business is your invention?’

‘It’s the best I could come up with,’ Sammy said. ‘Short notice, limited options, you know how it is.’ I tried not to be offended.

‘And she’s too beautiful to lose?’ Paula didn’t look pleased, but it wasn’t with me for once so I didn’t care.

‘She’s a cute wee lady,’ Sammy said. ‘Unless I can tempt you back, I don’t have a lot of choice.’ Big
sook
. ‘The place needs a face. Mark’s leaving, Lucy and Natalie are part-time and Jim’s, well, he’s Jim, God love him.’

‘Hey,’ I said.

‘Fair play,’ Paula said, laughing.

‘Hey!’ I said again.

In concert, Paula and Sammy looked directly at me, faces straight and backs upright. I tried to stare them both out simultaneously, but it wasn’t an easy challenge.

Someone wise but sadly lost to the mists of ethanol once taught me that in order to stare someone out (first to laugh, not first to blink), all you have to do is concentrate your gaze on the bridge of your opponent’s nose. They think you’re looking them in the eye but in fact you’re busy thinking about quadratic equations, or fish, or whatever else isn’t likely to induce a giggle. It works every time, guaranteed.

Unfortunately that forgotten guru failed to provide a suitable method that would work on two opponents staring at you side by side. I applied the only logic I had at my disposal and focussed on the point directly between Paula and Sammy’s heads, which gave me an excellent view of Simon and Louise Fraser as they walked through The Basement’s door.

Panic and fear was the clear default position, and I readily adopted it. ‘Eh,’ I said. ‘Eh, eh, eh.’ (Possibly a record?)

‘Are you okay?’ said Paula.

‘Are you having a seizure?’ said Sammy.

‘
Nh
,
nh
,
nh
!’ I pointed out, in some difficulty.

‘That’s not Samuel Sutherland is it?’ Louise said, approaching the bar. ‘Give
yer
mammy a hug, ye big
buggerer
!’

‘Mamma Lou!’ Sammy leapt from his stool and grabbed Louise in a bear-hug. ‘Still prettier than both your girls put together!’ He lifted her off the ground and twirled her round.

‘Put me down, put me down!’ Louise cried. ‘I’m an old woman!’

‘You’re Irish,’ Sammy said, continuing the twirl. ‘No such word as old in your language.’

Simon spent this time treading purposely towards the bar, and therefore towards me. Paula smiled a nervous hello at him and he patted a hand on her shoulder as he reached us; he didn’t take his eyes off me once.

‘James,’ he said, as Sammy allowed Louise a moment to breath.

‘Si… Jo…
hiya
. What ...?’
the fuck are you doing here?
I wanted to say.

He seemed to get this. ‘Andrea said Paula would probably end up in here, so we thought we’d pop in and say hello. I wondered if you might be working. You look well.’

‘Eh, thanks.’ I smiled, giving my mouth strict instructions not to say anything else until my brain caught up with events.

‘Hello, Jim, it’s nice to see you again,’ Louise said. ‘Is this Sammy one looking after you?’

‘Of course I am,’ Sammy said. ‘In fact, I’ve created a new position especially for him.’

Louise started giggling; it took me a moment to work out why. She had a dirty mind, that woman.

‘Really?’ Simon said to Sammy. ‘And what would that be?’

‘Co-manager,’ Paula said, spotting I was in silent mode.

‘Interesting,’ Simon said, smiling at Paula then returning his eyes to me. ‘And who would your co, co-manager be?’

‘Eh,’ I said, needing a bit longer before I was ready to go for an actual word.

‘
Hiya
,’ Kate said from behind me. ‘What’s going on out here?’

I went back to smiling inanely, deciding it was best for Paula or Sam to field this one.

‘Kate,’ Sammy said bravely. ‘Meet two of my dearest friends, Louise and Simon. They also happen to be Paula’s parents, though she doesn’t deserve them.’

‘Oh, wow, okay, hi,’ Kate said, her expression freezing for a second as she did some internal computations. I prayed she was better at working out relationships (and who knew what about who) than she was at counting bottles of wine. ‘Good to meet you.’

‘And you, my dear,’ Simon said, with a hint of flirtation. It seemed even clever old bastards weren’t immune to the ‘meeting a beautiful woman they don’t know’ syndrome, though he did deal with it more eloquently than I had.

‘Don’t mind him, love,’ Louise said, giving her husband a look. ‘He’s an old goat. It’s very nice to meet you.’ She extended a hand and shook Kate’s.

‘Kate is Jim’s co, co-manager,’ Sammy said.

‘Is that so?’ Simon said. He gave me what I’m almost certain was a look of pride, which was scary. ‘Good for her. And you of course, James.’

I kept smiling. It occurred to me that the only way this could get more awkward would be if my own parents walked through the door.

A loud cry of, ‘I’m going to get a
fuckin
’ coffee, get those
fuckin
’ dishes done by the time I get back,
ya
wee tit,’ quickly followed by a higher pitched reply of, ‘away and fuck
yersel
’,’ proved me wrong, and I worked on keeping my facial muscles rigid as Abe appeared at the bar.

‘Do us a cappuccino, Jim,’ he said, ignoring everyone else. ‘That wee bastard’s doing my nut in.’ He pulled up a barstool, sat down, and looked around. ‘All right, Sammy,’ he nodded. ‘Paula,’ he nodded again. ‘Katie.’ He glanced at Simon and Louise. ‘All right?’

‘Hello,’ Louise said, shocked.

‘Good afternoon.’ Simon sounded amused.

‘Abe, would you mind watching your language in front of customers please,’ Sammy said.

Abe shrugged. ‘Sorry, boss. Are you on that cappuccino or what, Jim?’

‘Eh, yeah, no bother.’ The quicker I made it, the quicker he might go away.

‘You’re Irish,’ I heard Abe say. ‘Are you Paula’s mum and dad, then?’

Crap. After Sammy bawling me out a couple of weeks previously, Abe obviously knew about Paula and me. He didn’t necessarily know that Simon and Louise
didn’t
know, though. He and Jed didn’t really go in for heavy conversations, and their comments on the situation had been limited to generous amounts of piss-taking with regard to whether I was a
fuck-hole
, a
wee shite
or a
right wanker
.

‘That’s correct,’ Simon said. ‘My guess would be that you’re the chef?’

‘Was it the white jacket or the checked trousers that gave me away?’ Abe said.

‘Abe!’ Sammy and Kate said at the same time. Paula was staying quiet. I could sense her fear.

‘Here you go.’ I dropped a very badly made coffee in front of Abe. ‘Are you sure it’s safe to leave Jed in there on his own?’

‘Aye, I hid all the knives,’ Abe said.

Simon laughed. ‘Training up an apprentice?’

‘I wouldn’t put it like that so much as
trying not to kill an annoying wee eejit
.’

‘Hah, I know how that feels, right enough.’ Simon looked at me when he said this, the swine.

‘
Okay
,’ Paula said. ‘I need to think about making a move. I hope you brought the car, Dad, you’re my lift home.’

‘Oh, I thought we were going to stay for a drink,’ Louise said.

‘And that we are,’ Simon said. ‘In fact, I believe it’s my round. Jim, would you do the honours?’ He nodded at Abe. ‘Include one for our friend here, with Sammy’s permission.’

Paula’s face fell; Sammy’s face fell; Kate’s face fell (which at least proved she was on script); my face certainly did something; Abe’s face lit up.

‘Nice one,’ he said. ‘I’ll have a Drambuie, if you’re asking.’

‘Excellent,’ Simon said. ‘Shall we have a seat?’

‘You and Mum go on,’ Paula said. ‘We’ll be over in a sec.’

Simon and Louise headed for one of the big round tables. Abe got up to follow but was swiftly pulled back by Sammy. ‘What the fuck?’ he said.