Chapter Twenty-Six

It certainly couldn’t be described as a bar; or at least, one that Dax had ever been to before. As Cameron pulled the car up outside the old stone building, Dax was sure that they’d stopped to pick someone up before going to the pub.

But this was it. Dax leaned forward and opened the door and Cameron came around to help him. “Hold on, let me get the chair,” Cameron said.

“No,” Dax replied. “I need to start walking more. Let me try it. Can I take your arm?”

“Of course,” said Cameron. He helped Dax to his feet from the height of the large car. They began to walk slowly toward the door of the pub, where a few other people were walking in. Others were milling outside, smoking cigarettes. There was nobody on the door, no bouncer vetting the clientele and deciding who could come in and who wasn’t welcome.

“Who are we meeting, again?” Dax asked.

“Caroline and Austin are friends from when I was at university. Then there’s Will. He works in a hair salon in town. And sometimes he brings an old customer of his with him. That’s Angus.”

“Right. And do they know I’m here?”

“They know I have a new patient, yes. But they don’t know who you are. Don’t worry if they stare a little bit. Even in this remote place, they all know who Dax Monroe is.”

Both men had to duck their heads to walk inside, as the ceiling was so low. The old stonework was ancient, similar to that of Cameron’s house. It was held together with old mortar, still going strong against the cruel Scottish weather. Even on this spring night, there was a chill in the air, and Dax was glad to be inside, where it was warm.

“I’ve asked for Caroline to save us a seat near the fire,” Cameron said. “Let’s just get you set down and I’ll get us some drinks.”

As they shuffled past the bar to a small room to the left, Dax knew that people had begun to stare and whisper. He instinctively looked around for Rocky, but remembered very quickly that his trusty bodyguard was nowhere around, and that he was on his own. Well, not exactly. Cameron kept a firm grip on his arm and made sure that a clear path cut through the room to the small wooden table at the far side.

There was a woman with mousy hair and glasses talking with a man with a short beard and the largest Adam’s apple Dax had ever seen. They both looked up as Cameron approached, and smiled until they recognized Dax, and their mouths dropped. Cameron helped Dax to sit down as a hush descended around the room. “All right, let’s get this out of the way,” he said to everyone, not just Austin and Caroline. “This is Dax, he’s staying with me for a little while after an accident, and I’d appreciate it if everyone could respect his privacy. We’re a close-knit town, and we’d really like it to stay that way.”

Everyone was listening, hanging onto Cameron’s words. Dax smiled uneasily and raised a hand. He felt underdressed in jeans and a shirt, and unlike most of his public appearances, now he wasn’t wearing the slightest amount of make-up.

“So, if you want to talk to Mr. Monroe, then I’m sure he won’t mind too much but please, no autographs, no selfies, and no videos. Nothing goes up on the internet. Okay?”

There was a murmur of consent throughout the room until a loud, high voice cut through the crowd. A tiny, birdlike woman with bony elbows and messy white hair came in, carrying a stack of beer glasses. “If ah see a single phone tekkin’ any wee sneaky videos, yer’ll be banned immediately, never ter return!”

Dax was terrified of her, and could barely make out the words from her clipped Scottish accent. She rolled her R’s on every word, but he caught the gist of her message. Cameron leaned in and whispered into his ear. “That’s Ginny Mallon,” he said. “She used to own this place, and her parents before her. She had to sell it ten years ago after her husband died but she still lives in the flat upstairs and collects glasses every night. She must be hitting ninety. But she’s sharp as a tack, and she rules the roost around here.”

“I can see that,” Dax replied. “I wouldn’t cross her.”

“Neither will anyone here,” Cameron said. “She’s a tough old bird. What she says, goes. You won’t get any trouble here tonight.”

“Great.” Dax was still nervous, and he gave small smiles to Caroline and Austin.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Cameron said, taking off his jacket and putting it on an old iron radiator, where the others had put theirs. “I haven’t done the introductions. Dax, these are my friends Caroline and Austin. Guys, this is Dax.”

They shook hands and Caroline grinned at him. “He’s had some pretty cool people stay with him over the years, but I’ve got to say that you’re the coolest yet.”

“Thanks,” said Dax, and he meant it. He knew immediately that there didn’t have to be any fake, plastic grins or empty words of joy at meeting them. He could be himself. Caroline was warm and friendly, with slightly bucked teeth and a crinkle in her nose as she pushed up her spectacles every few seconds. Her husband, Austin, was very quiet and serious, but he’d taken Dax’s hand warmly in his large grip.

“What about Will?” Cameron asked.

“He’s on his way,” Caroline said. “Asked if we’d get him a drink and he’ll get a round in later.”

“I’ve heard that before,” Cameron said wryly. “But I could murder a pint. What’s everyone having?”

Caroline and Austin both ordered bitter. Dax didn’t like the sound of that, whatever it was, and he looked over at the bar through the tiny gap in the door, wondering what to have. But Cameron told him not to worry.

“I’ll get you something you’ll like,” he said. “Don’t worry. What does Will want?”

“He’ll have a pint, and get Angus a brandy.”

“No way,” Cameron said. “I’m not having the old man start on the shots this early. I want him nice and sharp for the quiz. He can have a beer, too.”

He left, and Dax suddenly felt very exposed. He could feel eyes staring at him, but he noticed that they were simply curious, rather than unfriendly. From a quick scan of the room, he couldn’t see anyone pointing a cell phone in his direction. It seemed Ginny Mallon was a force to be reckoned with in these parts, just as Cameron had described. Dax could do with someone like her when he was on tour. Most of the time, his management’s calls for privacy were laughed at, rather than heeded.

“So, it must seem very strange, being here after the kind of thing you’re used to,” said Caroline. She seemed nervous to be talking to him, and Dax wanted to tell her that he was the one who was terrified.

“It’s weird, I’ve got to admit,” he smiled, “but Cameron’s looking after me, and I’m getting there. Day by day.”

“I saw about your accident on the news,” Caroline said. “It looked so nasty. I’m glad you’re okay, though.”

“Yeah, it could have been a lot worse.”

“Weren’t you on tour at the time?”

“Just finished. About to head back to the States when I… when I went out for a drink with a friend, and he lost control of the car when we were escaping the paparazzi.”

She nodded, listening. She had a kind face, and didn’t seem to want to drag out any information that Dax didn’t want to give. Instead, she was sympathetic, and warm. “It must be so awful, to have everyone in your business all the time. Wanting something from you. And they could have killed you out there, and for what? Just a picture.”

She shook her head. Dax nodded. “Yeah, when you look at it like that, it seems dumb,” he said. “But as a I said, Cameron’s looking after me.”

As if on cue, Cameron returned with a handful of beers he carefully held onto as he crossed the room before setting them on the table. “Bitters for you two,” he said, passing drinks to the couple. “Dax, I got you an ale I think you might like. It’s brewed up here, but it’s light. I can always go and get you something else if you don’t like it.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” said Dax. He reached for his drink and took a sip. He was used to drinking his beers cold but this one was at room temperature, but he noticed that under the malty flavor was a fruity, orange tang. He raised his eyebrows and looked at the glass. “That’s actually better than I thought it would be.”

Cameron grinned and nodded, taking a long sip of his own drink. “Damn, that’s just what I needed,” he said. “I’ve been thinking about that beer all day.”

He looked at Austin. “How’s the lambing?”

Austin now spoke for the first time. He had a rich, deep voice, and he seemed to choose every word carefully, as though he had a quota assigned to him at birth, one that he wasn’t allowed to go over, at any cost.

“Busy,” he said. “Good weather makes for bigger lambs.”

“Are you a farmer?” Dax asked. Caroline spluttered in her drink and even Cameron laughed.

“He’s a vet,” Cameron said. “And by that, I mean a veterinary doctor, not a veteran.”

“Right,” said Dax, and he blushed, wanting to kick himself for his foolishness. He felt so out of place. He could sit in a room of thousands of partygoers, with his arms around a whole number of strangers who took picture after picture, making him smile in every single one. He could belt out a ballad in front of a hundred thousand spectators at a stadium like it was nothing more than a walk in a park. But here, in this tiny room in a tiny Scottish pub, he felt more out of his depth than he had in a long time.

He was coming to grips with the accent, but Cameron and Austin began to talk so quickly that he lost track of the conversation. He wanted the ground to open silently so he could slip into it without being seen, but there was little chance of that occurring. Cameron tried to include him, Dax knew, but he simply couldn’t keep up. He wanted to escape, but at that moment, he heard a slapping sound, and he looked up.

There stood in front of him a young guy, slim and cute, and the slapping noise had been his hands on his own cheeks. His mouth was wide open in shock, and his eyes looked as though they were about to pop out and roll across the floor.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” the guy said.

“All right, Will, close your mouth,” said Cameron. “This is Da—”

“I know who it is!” he squealed. “Oh my God, I’m shaking. Oh Jesus, I’m shaking so much. I’m the biggest fan. I swear to God. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe.”

Cameron frowned and stood up. “Take a seat, Will,” he said. “Let Dax have a little breathing space. Dax, in case you hadn’t already guessed, this is Will.”

Dax reached over and shook his hand. “I’m sorry for not standing up.”

“Oh, it’s fine, I know all about your accident.” Will turned to Cameron. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me he was going to be here! Jesus, Cam, I nearly canceled tonight to go see a band!”

“But you didn’t,” Cameron said. “And now you’re here, and Dax has joined us, and you’re going to be calm, and you’re not going to go crazy, am I right?”

“Right,” said Will. He turned to Dax. “That last album, oh God, I’ve had it on repeat in my car for about three months now. I never drive anywhere without listening to it.”

“Will, I got you a drink but I think you and I need a little talk at the bar.”

“It’s okay,” said Dax. “Really. It’s fine.”

Cameron took a deep breath. “I’m really sorry. I should have pre-warned him. He’s only twenty-two. He gets a little excited.”

Will turned around and scowled at Cameron. “Don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” he pouted. “You know the night wouldn’t be anywhere near as fabulous if I weren’t.”

“Where’s Angus?”

“He’s talking with Graham about some cow feed outside. But stop interrupting me. I was talking to Dax.”

Thankfully, a tap on the microphone from somewhere else in the pub meant the quiz was about to start, so everyone had to be quiet. An old man limped up to the table, sat down without a word, and picked up a pen. Dax could only assume that this was Angus, and that their party of six was complete.