‘Don’t mess it up this time,’ I mentally tell myself as I walk through the door of The Hopeful Ghost, Marram Bay’s local pub. I don’t know if it’s the only one, but Alfie told me it’s where all the locals drink.
I always give myself this little pep talk before a work meeting or date. I mean, I didn’t necessarily mess it up the last time I had a meeting or went on a date, or the time before that, but if it’s something I’m having to do again then I clearly haven’t made enough money to retire or married a Prince Charming, so time to try again, and this time I’ll do better. It’s also setting myself a nice low bar, so that anything other than messing up seems like a victory.
Tonight isn’t a date, is it? As much as I secretly want it to be, I suppose the pressure is off if it isn’t a date – dating is hard. Being in the same relationship through my teens, and then finding myself pregnant at 22, I’ve never really done much dating, just a few dates here and there. And when I say ‘dating’ I mean the painstakingly awkward act of going to public places to make small talk with men in an attempt to see if there’s anything between you before making your excuses to leave – that’s all. Getting it on is not something that goes hand-in-hand with dating for me – my personality, it turns out, is the best contraceptive I know of. But dating is so much more than sex and, do you know what, it’s so hard.
It should be easy: turn up, eat dinner, be awesome, live happily ever after – but that’s not how it goes at all, especially these days. Sure, you’ll find men who want to date you, but it’ll turn out you’re just one of a whole bunch of women they’re pursuing – especially now so many people of all ages are doing online dating, not that I would dare venture down that avenue.
Maybe I’ve never given any of my first dates a real shot, but after my poor judgement when I was younger, I just feel like life is too short to waste on people who aren’t worth it.
I feel a few eyes on me as I walk up to the bar and order a drink – one of Alfie’s ciders, of course – so I take my drink and find one of the few quiet corners to sit down in.
The Hopeful Ghost is quite a big pub, with a large round bar situated right in the centre. I imagine, when it’s even busier than it is tonight (it is a Monday after all), that people will wait to be served from all angles. It’s a cute place though, very rustic. I’m sitting next to a large fireplace, which obviously isn’t lit given how warm it is at the moment, but it still adds to the appeal of the place, and I noticed a man at the bar who has his dog with him, which I like. Glances from locals aside, it feels like a lovely, welcoming place – much nicer than the nearest bar to where I lived in London, which was an Eighties themed karaoke bar. Sure, it was fun, but you had to be in the mood for it, because when all you want is a quiet drink, the last thing you want is a fifty-something man singing ‘Livin’ on a Prayer’ (badly) at the top of his voice.
An acoustic guitar and a woman’s voice fill the air – I’ve only just realised there’s a live duo playing at the other side of the bar. I just sit peacefully, sipping my drink, listening to the music as I wait for Alfie to arrive.
My phone buzzes on the table in front of me. I look at it and see Alfie’s name and I immediately think that, if we hadn’t swapped numbers earlier when he took my car to get fixed for me, he wouldn’t be able to text me and bail on me now.
‘I’ll be there in 5 mins. Is it OK if my mate Charlie comes for a drink? It’s been a bad day,’ the message reads.
I punch a message back saying it’s fine. It’s so like Alfie (if I can say that after knowing him for three days?) to be kind to his friends too. Of course I don’t mind, in fact, it might mean that I make another friend, which will make a grand total of: four.
Alfie made plans with Clara and Henry, for them to babysit Frankie, and he promised me they were cool with it. I thought twice about it but when I floated the idea by Frankie he was more than keen to see them again – I think he has a lot of questions for Henry, most of which are about him getting blown up.
I only have to listen to the band for a couple of minutes before Alfie hurries over, taking a seat at the table next to me.
‘Sorry I’m late,’ he says, even though he’s technically on time. I actually showed up early, just to forcibly break my current late streak. ‘Good choice with the drink. Charlie is getting ours so I thought I’d come and find you, let you know we were here. How was work?’
‘Oh, work was the usual level of rubbish,’ I admit. ‘We’ve been running adverts, looking for staff, for weeks now and I found out today that no one is applying. So I guess I’ll be running the place single-handedly.’
‘I can help with recruitment,’ he says. ‘And failing that, I can help out behind the counter.’
I’m not sure if he’s kidding about the latter.
A petite brunette carries two drinks over. She’s your typical girl next door, with her pretty looks and her easy smile. She’s maybe five foot two or five foot three – the two pint glasses look enormous in her hands. She’s rocking the ‘jeans and a nice top’ look, teamed with a pair of pastel pink Timberlands. I assume she’s the barmaid, as she places the glasses down on the table, but then she sits down next to Alfie…
‘Hello,’ she says in her soft Yorkshire accent. ‘I’m Charlie, nice to meet you.’
‘Hi, I’m Lily,’ I say, shaking her hand. I assumed Charlie was a boy, not a babe.
‘Thanks for letting me tag along. I was up at Alfie’s, I mentioned I was having a bad day, so he invited me.’
I’m jealous. Why am I jealous? Because she was at his house? Do I think I’m the only one allowed in his house?
‘Oh no, what happened?’ I ask, curious as to what equates to a bad day in her world. Somehow I don’t think it includes getting covered with crap.
‘I lost a cat,’ she says, before quickly elaborating. ‘I’m the local vet. I’d hoped I could save the cute little fella, but it wasn’t mean to be.’
‘She stopped by to check on Leonardo, to make sure the sore on his leg had healed. I’d totally forgotten she was coming over. But then she started crying and she told me what had happened. I thought a drink and meeting a new friend might cheer her up.’
Oh, she’s perfect. Not just perfect on paper, but perfect for Alfie. She’s local, gorgeous, cute as a button, and she’s got a great job caring for animals. And then there’s me, like a young (taller) Barbara Windsor, fresh out of a Carry On movie with my comedic clumsiness, my cheeky jokes and my London accent, that feels so out of place up here.
‘Oh, I’m so sorry,’ I say sincerely. ‘You must have to deal with that all the time.’
‘It doesn’t make it any easier,’ she insists – not that I wasn’t suggesting it did. ‘So you’re the deli girl.’
‘Guilty,’ I reply.
‘I’m not objecting to it – it’s not going to threaten my livelihood,’ she assures me, although I don’t exactly feel like she’s giving me her blessing.
‘Thanks,’ I reply, unsure what else to say.
After a few seconds of awkward silence, Alfie takes his vibrating phone from his pocket.
‘I’ve been tagged in the town group,’ he says. ‘Last time this happened, Phillip had got out and he was frightening someone’s cats, apparently.’
He sounds so amused by this, but that sounds like classic, terrifying Phillip to me.
‘We have this town Facebook group that all the locals have joined,’ he explains. ‘People use it to sell things, find things, see what’s going on in the community, complain about things and just generally gossip.’
‘You’ll have to invite me,’ I suggest. I don’t tell him that one of the mums at school already told me about it and told me I lived too far out of town to join, because Alfie lives further out of town than I do, so Avril was obviously lying.
As Alfie reads something on his phone, Charlie smiles over at me. I feel like she’s assessing me, mentally looking me up and down. I know that I shouldn’t be so fussy, given how few friends I have here, but I just feel like her face is smiling, but her eyes are showing me something different.
Alfie chuckles to himself.
‘This is hilarious, listen to what someone posted in the group,’ he says. ‘“Saw Alfie Barton dropping the Apple Blossom Girl’s child off at school this morning” and then they’ve used the eyes emoji, the ones that look off to the left.’
‘They probably think something is going on between you,’ Charlie says. ‘Like you spent the night together.’
‘Just the evening,’ Alfie says with a laugh. ‘Let them think what they want, right Apple Blossom Girl?’
‘A nickname, just what I need,’ I say sarcastically.
‘They’ve been calling you worse,’ Charlie insists. I feel my eyebrows shoot up in surprise – at the fact people have been calling me names, and her frankness.
‘Just because of the deli,’ she adds.
‘I’ve heard people saying things about the deli, but I haven’t heard them saying anything about Lily specifically,’ Alfie points out. I don’t know if that’s true or if he’s just being kind, but I appreciate it.
I examine the contents of my glass anxiously, not really knowing what to say next. Rather than go into a protective shell, I decide to change the subject.
‘So how long have you two known each other?’
‘Since we were at school,’ Charlie replies.
‘Well, so she tells me,’ Alfie says with a cheeky smile.
I smile, puzzled.
‘Alfie was a few school years above me, but I remember him. He was a good-looking older boy though, I was too intimidated to talk to him.’
‘Ha,’ Alfie laughs, banging his hand on the table. ‘She says this, but it’s not true. I was a chubby teenager and I was painfully shy. I don’t reckon she had a clue who I was.’
‘I did too,’ she insists with a playful shove. ‘That’s why, when you moved back to the farm, I came straight over to say hello, silly.’
Hmm.
‘So you say,’ he laughs. ‘But I remember school, and no one wanted to be my friend. I was chubby and I smelled like a farm – or so the meaner kids told me.’
He may be joking around, but my heart breaks for child Alfie.
‘After that, we became inseparable,’ Charlie says. ‘I helped him settle back in, build his house. I remember one night, we stayed up late drinking your sloe gin, and we got so drunk we bought a goat online.’
‘Phillip,’ Alfie tells me. ‘We were worried he’d be put down if no one took him in.’
Why do I feel like I’ve just walked into a random couple’s house and got in their bed?
‘Lily, Alfie tells me you have a son,’ Charlie says, changing the subject. ‘I’ll be doing a talk about animals at his school tomorrow, if he’s a little acorn.’
‘I do. Frankie. He’s 8.’
‘How old are you?’ she asks. ‘Just curious.’
Just wanting to do the maths, is more like it.
‘I’m 31,’ I reply, pausing while she subtracts 8 – or 9, if she remembers to account for the nine months I spent pregnant.
‘Are you and his dad still together?’ she asks.
‘All right, Charlie, don’t grill her,’ Alfie laughs, swigging his drink.
‘No, we’re not.’
‘Divorced?’
‘No, we never married.’
‘Oh,’ she replies. ‘Does he still see Frankie?’
‘Charlie, seriously,’ Alfie says, a little firmer this time.
‘Sorry, I was just curious,’ she replies.
‘No, he doesn’t. He never has, it’s only ever just been the two of us.’
Charlie’s face falls. There’s that pitying look I know and hate.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she says. ‘That must have been so hard for you. Going through it all alone, being pregnant, giving birth…’
‘I was anything but alone during the birth, actually,’ I tell her. ‘I gave birth on the tube.’
Charlie and Alfie both stop in their tracks. They stop drinking, they have nothing to say – I’m not even sure they’re breathing.
‘The tube?’ Alfie eventually says, sounding surprised.
‘Is that normal in London?’ Charlie asks.
‘Erm, no, it’s not actually. Frankie was only the fourth child to be born on the underground. It wasn’t rush hour or anything, but there were plenty of people around. People were very helpful and considerate. In London we tend to keep ourselves to ourselves, especially on public transport. It was kind of moving, really, how willing people were to take care of me. Frankie was a little early – and members of the Holmes family are rarely early – so I figured I was fine out and about on my own. I’d been to visit an old uni friend, just for a catch up. She worked in central London, so I popped out to meet her on her lunch hour and, I don’t know, maybe it was the excitement or the jerky motion of the tube carriage but my waters broke and the next thing I knew I had a baby in my arms. With the exception of a couple of squeamish suits, everyone got involved and helped out, and a few even gave me their contact details so I could keep them posted on how Frankie was doing.’
The story of how my son came into the world might be unconventional, but I wouldn’t change it for the world, and I’m always proud to tell it because I think it shows all that is good in the world.
‘I think some of my animals give birth in better conditions,’ Charlie giggles. ‘So you’re single then?’
‘Yep.’
This is so uncomfortable.
‘Well.’ I knock back what is left of my drink. ‘I’d better go find Frankie and get him to bed.’
‘You’ve only had one drink,’ Alfie points out. ‘Can’t you stay for one more? Tell her, Charlie.’
‘Yes, stay,’ she sings.
Nope, that wasn’t sincere at all.
‘I’d really better get going,’ I insist.
‘Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow?’ Alfie says.
‘Maybe,’ I reply. ‘Have a great night.’
‘See you later, Blossom,’ he says cheekily.
Well, that wasn’t only absolutely not a date, but a disaster too. Good work, Lily.