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  She pursed her lips at me and looked a little worried. “Oh… great, yes, thanks.”

  I waved my free hand at her. “No, no, calm down with your mad enthusiasm, you’ll do yourself an injury.”

  Smiling and cringing at the same time, she 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. Anyways, I said you’d be there tonight at about six so I can show you the ropes, eh?”

  With her resolve a little firmer, she nodded. “Okay. I’ll be there.”

  “Great. I’m really glad.” I drained my cup. As the bitterness hit the back of my throat, I fought back a shiver. Her coffee was awful but marginally better, seeing as I’d made it. I’d have to introduce her to better bloody coffee, that was for sure. “So, any plans for visitors in the near future?”

  “Yes, actually. Josie and Brad are coming up for my birthday next month. I think it’d be hard if they weren’t here with it being the first… Well, you know.” She dropped her gaze.

  “So, am I right in thinking you’ll be the big three-oh this time, eh?” I asked, grinning at her as the cogs began turning in my brain. Big plans were afoot.

  Mallory gaped at me with narrowed eyes. “How do you know?”

  “Remember the other night when you told me off for worrying about your eating habits?” She nodded. I carried on, “You said then, and I quote, ‘I am a twenty-nine-year-old woman’. I don’t forget stuff. I have a mind full of useless information.” It was true.

  “Don’t remind me. I feel old,” she said as she rubbed her face and her shoulders hunched.

  Old? Fuck! What did that make me, then? “Ah, rubbish. You’re a wee bairn. Wait ’til you’re my age, then you’ll feel old.”

  “What age is that, then?”

  Ahh, this could be fun. “Guess.”

  “I may offend you,” she warned.

  “Na’. I don’t offend that easily. Age is just a number.”

  “Okay, you asked for it.” She thought about it for a moment, tapping her chin and looking to the ceiling. “Erm… fifty-five?”

  What? Shit, maybe I didn’t look as good as I thought. I opened my mouth to speak but couldn’t think of a single thing to say. My heart rate accelerated with panic.

  Her eyes brightened and she punched me on the arm. “Ahhh, you said you wouldn’t get offended. Age is just a number, you said.”

  I huffed out a long breath and shook my head. “You cheeky wee mare.” Now I really needed to know what she thought, if only to soothe my bruised ego. “Go on, seriously, how old would you say I am?”

  “Seriously? About thirty-four… maybe thirty-five?” I could tell that she was being honest this time and my heart soared. That’s more like it.

  Sitting up a little straighter, I smiled. “Na’. I’m thirty-eight next birthday. I just look bloody good for my age.” We laughed together and my insides did a little flip.

  “Yes, it’s your modesty I admire the most.”

  Like a spoiled child I made a face at her before laughing out loud. She joined in and my heart skipped. Deciding now would be a good time to end the conversation before I ruined things, I got up to leave and made my way up to fit the new tap, leaving Mallory to shower and dress. My brain ticked over with plans. She was going to be thirty and that happened only once. It needed to be something she remembered in a good way. I wanted her to smile and have fun. I figured she needed that.

  After a while a familiar scent infiltrated my thoughts and I glanced up to see her standing there in the doorway of the workshop. She looked incredibly sexy even in casual gear. The long-sleeved blue top she wore hung loosely over her leggings, leaving far too much to my fertile imagination. She was a fair bit slimmer, which was a shame because she had the most stunning curves before; but she still looked pretty and I wanted to tell her. But fearing I’d say the wrong thing again, I bit my lip and just smiled.

  She began to get some wood and paints out, and I hoped it was my chalkboard she was going to make. I got on with my task at hand and sang along to her Pearl Jam CD, but every so often I glanced over surreptitiously and saw her sketching with her tongue out of one side of her mouth. So bloody cute. I could’ve watched her work for hours. The concentration on her face and the way her brow creased was kind of mesmerising. But eventually I was finished fixing the tap.

  “All done,” I told her as I wiped my hand on the rag tucked into my belt. I turned on the tap to display my handiwork and thankfully water gushed out and into the pot sink below.

  “Oh that’s fantastic, Greg, thank you so much.” She looked like she wanted to hug me, but I froze. She dropped her hands to her sides and blushed bright pink. Was I giving off don’t-you-fucking-dare vibes? I hadn’t meant to.

  Internally kicking myself yet again for my reaction, I bid her goodbye and said I’d see her at the pub later. Why could I never seem to do the right thing where she was concerned? I’d have to figure out a way to make amends. I just had no clue how. What I could do was work on organising her party. Surely that way she would see that I wasn’t a total socially inept arse? Maybe she would see that I was actually a decent, caring bloke worthy of her friendship?

  Alarmed by my train of thought I stopped in my tracks. Another epiphany hit. For the first time in what seemed like forever, I was actually considering someone else’s feelings above my own. What was that all about? Why the hell did it matter so much? I shook my head to rid myself of the errant thoughts and carried on my way.

  I knew one thing for certain; I wanted to make Mallory’s birthday special and I knew just the people to help me. I would need access to Mallory’s phone at some point, but that could wait. First and foremost I needed a venue.

  Chapter Twenty

  I made sure to arrive at the pub just after five. It gave me a chance to speak to Stella about Mallory’s birthday. My plans were deliberately simple; I got the feeling Mallory was the type of woman who didn’t go for the expensive, glamorous parties. She seemed quite shy in many ways, and the last thing I wanted to do was embarrass her.

  “Are you sure this is a good idea, Gregory? It’s not long since she lost her fiancé. Maybe this would be too much?” Stella’s concern was etched all over her face.

  “I really think I can make it special though, Stella. Just a few close friends and some nice food and… and me.”

  Her brow furrowed. “You?”

  “Aye. I thought I’d… you know… play a few of her favourite songs, maybe.”

  She smiled widely. “Oh, Gregory. That’s such a thoughtful thing to do. You clearly think a lot of her.” She patted my arm and I felt my cheeks heating up.

  “No, no, it’s not that. I just… I just want to do something nice, seeing as I always seem to do the wrong thing around her.”

  “I know, love. I know.” But from the glint in her eyes I guessed that what she ‘knew’ wasn’t the same as what I ‘knew’ about the situation. She clearly was reading too much into things.

  At just before six I was standing chatting to Ron when the door opened and in walked Mallory. Stella greeted her with a hug and took her coat. She looked… beautiful; very smartly dressed in trousers that hugged her curves and a top that showed just enough cleavage to tantalise unintentionally. She wasn’t the kind to flaunt herself. She was carrying a large, flat package wrapped in brown paper. My heart flipped. Mallory followed Stella behind the bar and left her with me.

  “Is that what I think it is?” I asked her as a wave of excitement came over me.

  Tilting her head to one side, she smiled. “Hmmm, depends what you think it is.”

  “I think it’s my chalkboard,” I said with a smile.

  “Then in that case, you would be correct.”

  She handed me the package and I ripped the paper off like an excited kid. I could feel her watching me for my reaction.
She chewed nervously on a nail. As I stared at the beautiful board with its scrolled writing and smooth painted surface, a lump lodged in my throat. She’d made this for me. Me, the arsehole who always said the wrong thing. Me, the fucking idiot who’d made her cry. It just confirmed the type of person she was. One of a kind in the best possible way.

  Steeling myself and clearing my throat, I was able to speak. “Mallory, Mallory, Mallory… it’s bloody brilliant!” I caught her letting out a breath. Her face relaxed into a beautiful smile. Still grinning I repeated myself, “Bloody brilliant! I love it!” I turned it around to show Ron, who beamed from ear to ear.

  “Aye she’s a talented lassie, our Mallory.”

  Mallory’s smile widened and my heart melted. I placed the board down and met her eyes. I had an overwhelming desire to pull her into my arms but wasn’t sure if I should. After staring at her and fidgeting awkwardly for a moment, I did it anyway. The softness of her breasts met the muscles of my chest and I closed my eyes, relishing the feeling of her curves against me. Realising I was liking it a little too much—if you know what I mean—I broke away and ran my hands through my hair, the heat of embarrassment setting my face afire.

  “Um… I’d better go and… um… put this somewhere safe,” I mumbled, picking up the board and walking through to the back. I heard Mallory and Ron chuckling as I left. Great, now I’m a fucking laughingstock. Just great. Placing the board down, loosely rewrapped in the scraps of brown paper, I took a few deep breaths and calmed myself. The last thing she needed was for me to go back out there with a raging wood in my boxers. I was angry with myself that my body had reacted that way again. God, what she does to me! I’m supposed to be her friend, for goodness’ sake. Once I was back to my normal self again, I went back through to the bar.

  I clapped my hands together, making Mallory jump, and I couldn’t stop myself from laughing at her startled expression. Plastering as much seriousness on my face as I could, I said, “Okay, bar school lesson one…”

  She picked up how to use the cash register very quickly and before long she was a dab hand at it. Shorts were a doddle too. I was impressed with how easy she was picking things up. Not that bar work is akin to rocket science, but she was a natural. Well, that was until it came to pulling a pint.

  Showing Mallory how to pull a pint was not the easiest thing I’ve ever done. But it did make me laugh. She kept growling at her initial attempts and I had to fight to keep my face straight. Ron kept on shaking his head and rolling his eyes, which didn’t really help.

  “Arrgh! Too much bloody froth,” she exclaimed at the glass of foam she’d placed on the bar.

  “It’s called a head,” I informed her with a smirk.

  Scowling at me, she tried again. This time the glass was filled to the brim with just beer. “Awww… not enough froth this time.”

  “Head, Mallory.”

  She laughed this time and I couldn’t help joining in. I showed her once more how to tilt the glass so that enough ‘froth’ formed on the top. Her next attempt was much improved, and so Ron and I gave her a round of applause, making her blush.

  Despite their failure to look like proper pints, Ron eyed up the line of beers Mallory had pulled. I gestured for him to help himself, and his eyes lit up like he’d won the lottery.

  It was time for her to get stuck in and start serving patrons. After serving the first lot of customers, she had a huge grin on her face and Ron and I applauded her again. Ron told her she was a natural, and you’d have thought he’d told her she’d won the lottery with the smile she wore for the rest of the night. Fitting in was clearly very important to her, and I was really pleased that I’d pushed her into the job.

  Whilst Mallory served customers, it was time to try and put my plan into action. I went through to the back and spotted her bag. What I was about to do was something that, if I were caught, could get me into shitloads of trouble, but I justified it by telling myself I was doing it for Mallory. My heart thundered in my chest and I felt sure the whole bloody pub could hear it. I slipped my hand into her bag and grabbed her phone. Luckily it wasn’t locked with a code, and so I rifled through her contacts until I found Josie’s number. I quickly entered it into my phone and put hers back. I would ring Josie and get the other numbers I needed from her… hopefully—as long as she didn’t think I was some fucking crazed stalker. Shit. I hadn’t really thought it through.

  At the end of the night I congratulated Mallory on a job well done, and she left the pub with a huge smile that I’d helped to put there. I was so proud of her for taking this step. She was brave to have accepted a new job in a new town with no one to go home and share things with, and I wished I could’ve told her so without it coming out like patronisation. But I kept my mouth shut just in case.

  I was learning.

  ~~~

  That night when I got home I gulped down a dram of Dutch courage and grabbed my phone. After dialling Josie’s number, I sat there drumming my fingers on my knee, waiting for her to answer.

  “Hello?” She sounded confused. And then I realised that my number would have shown up with no name. Maybe I should’ve texted first.

  “Erm… Hi, Josie?”

  “Who is this?”

  “It’s… it’s Greg, from Scotland. The bloke from the pub?”

  “Oh. What’s up, Greg? Is Mallory okay?” I could hear the panic in her voice.

  “Oh, aye. Yeah, she’s fine. Look, I’m ringing to ask you a huge favour.”

  “Right. Okay, go for it.”

  I took a deep breath and cleared my throat. “So… it’s Mallory’s thirtieth birthday next month, and you and I both know she’s had it rough lately. So I wanted to do something nice. I thought maybe a surprise party?”

  “Really? You’d do that for Mallory?”

  “Yes. She and I didn’t get off to the best start and… I really want to make it up to her.”

  A sniffling sound came down the line. “That’s so sweet, Greg. Thank you.”

  “Are you crying?” Yorkshire women and I were just a bad combination.

  “A little. But only because I can’t quite believe how sweet you’re being. If I’m honest, I thought you were a grumpy-arsed sod at first, but… well, I take it all back.”

  Charming! Although she did have a point. I’d kind of disappeared up my own arse since Mairi had died, so Josie and Mallory had only met the me that presented myself as just that. A grumpy arse.

  I forced a laugh. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “Sorry if I sounded harsh. So, what do you need from me?”

  I went on to ask for a list of Mallory’s favourite songs, which Josie duly gave to me. I was thankful that she had such good taste and I wasn’t going to have to sit there and sing some bubble-gum boy-band shite. Next she gave me the number for Sam’s mother, Renee, in Canada and a list of Mallory’s favourite foods. The more we chatted, the giddier she got. But the next thing I had to ask stopped her joviality dead.

  “You want me to do what?” The sound of incredulity wasn’t lost on me.

  “I know it sounds like a shitty thing to do. But if she thinks you’re not coming, I can muscle in and make some fake arrangements to take her out for her birthday.”

  “No way! You can’t ask me to call her up and upset her like that. What am I supposed to say? Oh, hi, Mally, I’m your best friend in the whole world, but I’ve decided I can’t be arsed to come up for your first milestone birthday since Sam died. Yeah, I’m sure that’ll go down really well.”

  Okay, I’d pissed her off.

  “I know it seems cruel, but think about it. If she knows you’re coming, she’ll want to make plans to stay in with wine and a takeaway or something. You’d never get her out of the house.”

  She sighed. “You have a point, I suppose.”

  “I do. And I promise she will know that I made you do it when this is all done. I promise you that, Josie.”

  There was a silent pause, and I was sure she was going
to tell me to fuck off. “Okay. I’ll do it. But I’ll have to ring her when she’ll be out. I can’t lie to her, Greg. She’ll be heartbroken.”

  I silently thrust a triumphant fist into the air. “Like I said, it’s all for the right reason and she’ll know that it was all me.”

  “Okay. But if she rings me sobbing, I’ll tell her everything,” she warned.

  “She won’t. I’ll make sure you don’t have to lie for me.”

  “Fine. Let me know if there’s anything else you need me to do. You know, kidnap Ruby, set fire to her photos, tell her she’s ugly.”

  “Funny.”

  “Hmmm. Bye, Greg.”

  “Bye, Josie.”

  “Oh, and Greg?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t have any expectations of her, okay? She needs friends right now. That’s all.”

  “Josie, I can assure you my intentions are purely platonic. I just want to make her smile.”

  “Okay.” She wasn’t convinced—it was clear in her voice. And if I was completely honest with myself, I wasn’t either.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Armed with a list of Mallory’s favourite songs and musicians, I began to practise them as soon as I had some free time. Oasis, Neil Diamond, and Newton Faulkner amongst others. A very eclectic list and I loved that. It was fun to be learning new tracks, especially with the end goal in mind. I’d spoken to Renee and had secretly made arrangements for her Canadian family to come over. I was happy that they thought so highly of her that they would drop everything and jump on a plane like that. Things were going great, and I could hardly contain my excitement.

  There was a week to go to Mallory’s birthday, and she was working the bar whilst I played my third gig. The second one had gone really well, and Mallory’s chalkboard had worked wonders. The third one was no different. The place was buzzing and I was quaking in my boots. Standing at the bar, I nervously guzzled down my drink. Cola. Singing on whiskey always dried my throat out.

  Mallory watched me intently. “You look terrified. What’s up?”