They sailed back to shore and Mallory was relieved that the air had been cleared between them. They had apparently come to a mutual understanding and Mallory understood Greg much more. She really felt for him. His emotions were still raw which wasn’t surprising considering it was less than a year since Mairi had been declared dead – and although it had been a horrible experience, at least Mallory had the chance to cremate Sam; there had been some sense of closure for her. Greg hadn’t had anything like that. Eleven months had passed for this poor man since his love had left for her trip never to return and there were still unanswered questions. He had no peace. She admired the immense strength of his character and silently forgave him for his abrupt mood swings.
As they climbed off the boat and back onto terra firma, Mallory broke the ponderous silence that had fallen between them once again. ‘What are you up to this afternoon then? More leaking sinks to repair?’ She smiled warmly at him, feeling more at ease.
‘Nah… I’m away to pick up Angus and I think we might go for a long walk.’
First Rhiannon and now Angus. What instrument could this possibly be? Mallory scrunched her nose. ‘Angus?’
‘Aye, I don’t bring him on the boat too often. He can get seasick and sometimes he bothers the customers,’ Greg informed her.
Ah so it wasn’t an instrument. But Angus hadn’t been mentioned before. ‘Is Angus your son?’ she asked, hoping she wasn’t prying.
Greg threw his head back and guffawed loudly.
‘What’s funny?’ Mallory smiled but wasn’t sure why.
Greg shook his head, his laughter still erupting. ‘My son… actually, he is rather spoiled, so I suppose in a way he is.’ He glanced up at her. ‘He’s my dog. Stella looks after him sometimes when I’m out on the boat.’
Heat rose in her cheeks. ‘Ah right.’ She couldn’t help but laugh now at her earlier thought. ‘What type of dog is he?’ Mallory had always loved dogs.
‘He is a Lab-satian.’
That’s a new one on me. ‘A what?’
He smiled fondly. ‘Labrador Alsatian cross breed. He’s bloody huge, greedy and daft as a brush.’
‘Oh lovely. I’d love to meet him sometime. I can’t believe you have a seasick dog.’ The thought made her giggle.
‘Aye, I wasn’t too impressed the first time I took him out I can tell you.’ They walked towards his Land Rover. ‘I used to hope he’d get over it but subsequent trips proved me wrong on that score.’
She smiled and shook her head as images of Greg carrying his poorly dog off the boat materialised in her mind. ‘Poor little chap.’
Greg laughed out loud. ‘Little? Did you not hear me describe him?’ A more comfortable silence descended between them as they reached Greg’s car. He opened the door and climbed in, closed the door and wound down the window. ‘I’ll have a word with Stella tonight and let you know what she says. Although I can tell you now that she’ll welcome the chance to have someone around who tends to smile more than I do.’ She smiled up at him, seeing a new side to his character. The fact that he was capable of self-deprecation helped warm her to him a little more.
‘Okay, thanks for that. Not sure how I feel about the prospect of facing so many new people but we’ll see.’
‘Well if it’s any help I think Ron will prefer your face to mine any day.’ He started the engine. ‘See you tomorrow then, eh?’
‘See you tomorrow. And thanks for today.’
He shook his head. ‘Nae bother.’ He raised his hand in a wave and drove away.
‘Bye for now!’ she shouted after him. She and Ruby turned to head for home.
As they walked, she replayed their conversations in her mind. Greg had opened up so much more and she appreciated his honesty. She knew that there was also a tale to be heard about why his marriage had ended, but that would wait. She felt she had found a little common ground with Greg; someone who understood and felt her pain. Maybe they could help each other to come through their grief. Maybe, just maybe, they could be friends…
She walked through her front door and glanced around. I do like this place, maybe I should give it a try?
The ashes still sat in their plain container on the mantle in the lounge. She knew that a decision would have to be made soon: she didn’t want to become one of those people who talked to the urn. Now that’s the type of thing Sam would have poked fun at for sure.
Mallory made herself a chicken stir fry and noodles and poured herself a glass of wine. After she had eaten she watched the first part of a movie on TV, but kept dozing off and so she decided to go to bed. It was only ten o’clock, but she was exhausted. It had been quite a day.
She was awakened by someone pounding on the front door. She sat bolt upright and looked at the clock. Wow, she must have been tired – it was nearly half past ten in the morning. She dashed out of bed and down to the front door, rubbing her bleary eyes and tugged it open.
Greg stood there, worried expression on his face, toolkit in hand, huge excitable dog by his side. ‘I was beginning to think you’d done a moonlight flit.’
She yawned. ‘Sorry, I must have slept really deeply. I’ve only just woken up.’ Good grief, once again I look a sight when Greg calls round. He must think I live in my jim-jams.
Greg looked her up and down and smirked but didn’t say anything. He was wearing a T-shirt with an image of some kind of rabid wolf and the words ‘Faith No More’ emblazoned over the top. She’d heard of the band but wasn’t a fan. He had an interesting array of T shirts, she mused. She stepped aside and gestured for him to come in.
‘I brought Angus, is that okay? You said you’d like to meet him.’ Mallory nodded as Ruby came up to greet the new canine visitor. The two dogs sniffed each other inquisitively, their noses stuck up each-other’s rear end. Greg pointed at the two dogs. ‘I hope you don’t expect me to greet you like that.’
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 froth – ‘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.