The Perfect Moment

by Alix Kelso

  This was her quiet time before the rush of her shift at Valentino’s, when she let her body test its strength and let her mind wander where it would. No kilometre markers, no finish lines – not yet, anyway. Just the peace that came with the physical rush of the run.

  Yet even as her legs protested at the steepening incline of the hill around the golf course, she sensed her usual tranquillity was eluding her, as it had done ever since Natalie’s shock news about her plans to sell Valentino’s.

  Laura wasn’t stupid. She understood the world and understood the logic of her boss’s motivations. But none of the other staff had reacted the way she had when Natalie told them her plans. There had been sadness, yes. Surprise too, perhaps. But not shock, not the sort that she had felt. The staff had, to a person, told Natalie they’d be sorry to see her go, wished her well for whatever lay ahead, and had then simply got back to work.

  In the days since, Laura had wondered where she was in her life, exactly, that news about the impending departure of an employer should shake her so, especially when her own job was not in danger. Whoever ran Valentino’s would still need waitresses. And she would be one of them.

  It was the loss of Natalie that would hurt the most. That and the certainty that Natalie was doing the wrong thing by selling up.

  At the summit of the hill that rose above the small golf course, she paused to catch her breath and look out over the city. From here, she could see straight across to the Campsie Hills that hugged Glasgow to the north. She saw motorways snaking through town and across the River Clyde, saw the jumble of streets and buildings that stretched for miles in either direction.

  Years earlier when she’d first arrived in Glasgow, she’d thought she’d never really get to know the city, its character, its way of life. But she had. It was home now.

  And the home she’d had before, with her parents in their lovely house out in the rolling countryside, fifty miles to the south, felt more and more like a half-remembered dream with each passing year.

  Things changed. The death of her parents when she was nineteen had forced her to set aside the dreams she’d had in life to find work and support herself. She’d found Valentino’s and begun to recover from the grief. In Angelo and Natalie Fachini, she had found not family, but as close an approximation as she could get. She hadn’t expected to be there still, a decade later, and there was no doubt that the Fachinis were part of the reason she had remained. And if she was happy and content, why move on?

  Valentino’s had changed after Angelo died, his absence keenly felt. But Laura had thought that time would heal the place and everyone closely associated with it. If Natalie was gone, too, what sort of place would Valentino’s become? Would it still be the place she had grown to love if neither of the people who’d made her love it belonged there any more?

  Sighing, she began running again, heading down the incline and towards the park exit.

  If there were answers to these questions, she couldn’t find them.

  Valentino’s opened for breakfast at seven, and the assistant manager, Paul, was already behind the bar when Laura knocked on the locked door just after six thirty.

  “Coffee machine’s warming,” he said, unbolting the door to let her inside. “Would you set napkins on those booths by the window when you’re ready? Looks like the late shift forgot.”

  In these moments before service started, Valentino’s always looked perfect. The tables were set and neat, the floor scrubbed, and the bar counter gleamed. The place smelled of old polished wood and of the flowers in the bud vases, overlaid with the hints of bacon and sausage being prepared by Tanya in the kitchen and the glorious smell of freshly ground coffee.

  Laura laid out the napkins on the tables that had been overlooked the night before and accepted the mug of coffee Paul prepared for her. She was leaning back against the bar counter to take her first sip when someone began banging at the restaurant doors.

  Looking up, she saw the grinning face of her flatmate, Yvonne, framed in the glass panels. Her curly hair was a mess of untamed corkscrews, her mascara was smeared, and her cheeks were flushed. Laura couldn’t be entirely sure, but it looked like the shirt she wore beneath her light summer jacket might be inside out.

  “Open up!” Yvonne shouted. “I’m starving!”

  Paul rolled his eyes and turned back to the coffee machine. Laura unbolted the door and let Yvonne inside. “We’re not supposed to open until seven,” she said.

  Yvonne threw herself into a booth. “I’ve just had the most amazing night of my life, Laura. Opening times, other routine constraints, those don’t apply to me right now.” She picked up a menu and tossed it back down after barely a glance. “Tell Tanya I need a full Scottish breakfast. Extra potato scones, and no scrimping on the black pudding. I must’ve burned off ten thousand calories last night.”

  Laura curled a lip. “Spare me.”

  “Spare us all,” Paul called out from behind the bar.

  “And I need coffee, lots of it,” Yvonne shouted in Paul’s direction. “Grande. Venti. Whatever it is, give me the biggest you’ve got. I’m exhausted.”

  Once she’d delivered the breakfast order to the kitchen, Laura slid into the booth opposite Yvonne. “I’m working, so just give me the edited highlights.”

  Yvonne’s smile was somehow both serene and smug. “It was amazing. He’s amazing. Imagine the best sex you’ve ever had, and then imagine it to the power of ten.”

  Laura just stared.

  “Maybe even the power of twenty.” Yvonne’s smile grew wider. She gazed at Laura, and then the smile suddenly disappeared. “Oh no, wait. You’re not imagining it with John, are you?”

  “Who else am I going to imagine it with?”

  She frowned. “He’s not the best sex you’ve ever had.”

  “Well, no. But before him, it’d been so long since the last time, I hardly remember anything else to compare it to.”

  “That’s just sad. Why are you even going out with that guy?”

  “He’s okay.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay is something, Yvonne. We don’t all have your sparkling personality and yogic flexibility in the bedroom. Some of us just have to take what we can find.”

  “Don’t talk rubbish. You could have anyone you wanted. Take a look at yourself in the mirror. You’re a knockout.”

  “I don’t have time for pouting at myself in the mirror.”

  “Of course, I forgot, you’re the busiest woman in the Western hemisphere. Between your shifts here, and your weekly cinema trips with John, and – oh let’s see, what else? – your completely non-existent social life otherwise, it’s amazing you can find time even to get dressed in the mornings.”

  “You’re mean.”

  “Not mean enough where you’re concerned.”

  The kitchen bell pinged. Laura brought out Yvonne’s breakfast and watched her dive into it like someone who’d just spent a week lost and starving in the wilderness.

  “You need to find a man who excites you,” Yvonne said around a mouthful of fried egg. “Someone who gets your blood running. Last night Olly got my blood running so hot I thought I’d catch on fire.”

  “Jesus,” Laura said and went off to refill her coffee.

  The restaurant doors swung open and Natalie breezed in. She pushed her sunglasses up on to the top of her head and looked around the restaurant.

  “Good morning, Paul. Morning, Laura. Morning, Yvonne. Yvonne, are you aware that you have mascara gloop running out of one eye?”

  Yvonne pulled a compact mirror from her bag and rubbed at the offending make-up. “You might’ve mentioned this, Laura.”

  “You were too busy telling me about all the sex you’d just had.”

  Natalie brewed herself an espresso. “Please keep all sex discussions for the privacy of your own flat, girls. No need to make us old people jealous. Paul, the commercial estate agents will be here this morning at eight. I thought it best to have them visit early, befor
e the rush of the rest of the day. Just come and get me in my office when they arrive.”

  “No problem,” Paul said as Natalie disappeared down the back corridor.

  Laura gazed at her retreating figure before looking over at Paul. “It’s really happening,”

  “Of course it is,” he replied, looking puzzled, before opening a fresh bag of coffee beans and turning back to the machine.

  “You don’t still think she’ll change her mind?” Yvonne said, slicing into a strip of crispy bacon.

  “No, just hoping. I wish she’d give it more thought before she does this.”

  “Any luck fobbing her off with other diversions?”

  “I’m not fobbing her off. And they aren’t diversions. They’re activities she might enjoy.”

  “You really thought you could convince her not to sell Valentino’s by signing her up for a salsa class?” Yvonne could barely conceal her grin. “Did she even go to the salsa class?”

  Laura pouted. “No.”

  “You’re a meddler.”

  “If I was about to make a huge life mistake, I’d hope someone would care for me enough to meddle too.”

  “Hence my suggestion that you ditch Movie Boy and find someone who’s actually right for you.”

  “I don’t have time for silly nonsense like that right now, Yvonne. I’m trying to help Natalie.”

  “Yeah, help her stay here forever just so you don’t have to accept that things change.”

  Laura stared at her friend. “That’s not fair.”

  “Probably not. Sorry.” Yvonne laid down her fork. “Listen, if you’re really so fixed on getting her to change her mind, you need to give her something to stick around for. And she’s not going to stick around for a salsa class, that’s for sure. You need to find her a man.”

  “That was my first instinct. She’s open to the idea, she said as much. I’ve been trying to think of guys she’d like to go out with. What do you think about Harry Nairn?”

  Yvonne frowned. “The man who spends all his time at the allotments? Won’t he just bore her to death about carrot mites and soil additives?”

  “Hmm, maybe. How about Jim from our building?”

  “He’s okay, I suppose, but he’s not exactly someone who’s going to knock her socks off, is he?”

  “That’s all I’ve come up with so far.”

  “You’re trying to give her vanilla. But Natalie doesn’t need vanilla, not at this point in her life. What she needs is chunky monkey.”

  Laura sprayed a mouthful of coffee across the table. “Jesus, Yvonne.”

  “It’s true! She needs someone who’s going to surprise her and show her a really good time. And, yeah, I do mean in bed.”

  “You’re obsessed.”

  “Look, I’ll tell you a story. Last year, someone I know at work came out of a long relationship. It ended badly, her heart was broken, all that stuff. Said she’d never be able to face going out with a man ever again, blah blah. For a few months, this continued. Then, her friend – not me, someone else – sets her up on a date with this guy she knew. He was in the same situation, just out of a long-term thing, not sure what to do next. We all laughed when we heard about it, because this guy was totally the opposite of the long-term boyfriend she’d just been with. I mean, just completely different.”

  Yvonne scooped up some eggs and took a slurp of coffee before continuing. “Anyway, her pal talks her into going along on this date, just to get the muscles moving again, you know? She ends up seeing him for six weeks. Has a great time. They’re completely wrong for each other, not compatible in the slightest. But for those few weeks, they had fun and surprised each other, if you know what I mean.”

  Laura rolled her eyes.

  Grinning, Yvonne spread her hands. “And then they both happily went their separate ways. No grief, no drama. They’d enjoyed one another for a few weeks and they were ready to move one. Straight away, she starts seeing someone new. She got married to him just last month. How’s that for a happy ending?”

  She leaned back in the booth. “The point is, if you want to set Natalie up with someone who’ll get her interested in romance again, you need to think of the least likely person for her. Not some gruesome horror show of a man. Just someone you wouldn’t expect her to be with. Maybe that’s all it’ll take to get the men juices flowing again.”

  “Men juices. That’s gross.”

  “But you get my meaning. You need to find someone who’s completely off the radar of possibilities, someone who’s about as unlike Angelo as it’s possible to get. But also someone who isn’t likely to bore her senseless, like either of those guys you already thought of. Can you think of anyone that fits that bill?”

  Gazing out the bank of windows across Shaw Street, Laura looked at The Crooked Thistle on the other side. “Actually, maybe I can.”

  “Good, so set it up.” Yvonne checked her watch, then pulled money from her purse and laid it down on the table to cover her meal. “I’m going out again tonight with Olly. Don’t wait up. And get moving on fixing someone up with Natalie, before it’s too late.”

  Laura unlocked the restaurant doors. Yvonne dashed out, and a few waiting customers stepped in. The morning service began, but as Laura served coffees and breakfasts her head swirled with one idea and one idea only.

  Natalie. And Keith. Natalie and Keith together. Was it crazy? Or a stroke of genius?

  At eight o’clock when the commercial estate agents turned up – two shark-faced men in expensive suits who reeked of aftershave – she watched them move around the restaurant with speculative looks on their faces, and her stomach rolled.

  She decided she not only should take drastic action; she would.

  Chapter 4

  When her shift finished at one, Laura crossed over Shaw Street and into The Crooked Thistle. It was busy inside, the lunchtime crowd tucking into pub lunches and enjoying their pints. On the big screen that hung on the far wall, a golf tournament was playing on mute, while the house system boomed out old rock tracks. Laura noticed Jimmy Pearson and Big Kev in their usual spots on the bar stools, drinks in hand. She wondered if the pair of them ever spent time anywhere else.

  She saw Bruce working behind the bar filling drinks orders. Another of the bar staff, Sophie, was clearing tables. There was no sign of Keith anywhere.

  “Hey, Bruce,” she said, leaning over the bar to get his attention.

  He turned from the whisky optic where he was adding a measure to a glass and smiled. “Hey yourself.” He set the drink on the counter, took money from the customer, and gave change. Seeing no one else waiting to be served, he moved down the bar towards Laura.

  “Do you have five minutes to spare?” she asked.

  “Sure.” He gestured to a free table in a quiet corner of the pub.

  “Where’s your Uncle Keith?”

  “He’s off at some whisky lunch junket laid on by one of the distilleries.”

  “Sounds like fun.”

  “Four-course meal with paired whisky tastings. He’ll be in a great mood when he gets back.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “In that case, I’ve come at the perfect time. Remember the other day when I told you Natalie was selling Valentino’s, and I was worried she was making a mistake and maybe she needed to start doing other things in her life instead of spending so much time at the restaurant?”

  “Sure.”

  “And remember I said she ought to go on a few dates with a man, someone who could show her a good time?”

  “Sure.”

  “And we joked about setting up Natalie with your Uncle Keith.”

  “Sure.”

  “Do you really not see where I’m going with this?”

  Bruce laughed and raked a hand through his hair. “I do see where you’re going with it. But it’s so nutty, I thought you must just be having a laugh.”

  Shaking her head, she leaned over the table. “I know it’s a mad idea. They’re completely wrong for each other. Natalie i
s a lovely, smart, beautiful, capable woman. Your Uncle Keith is ... well, he’s ...”

  “A grumpy old sod.”

  “I was aiming for words more diplomatic than that.”

  “There aren’t any. He is what he is and doesn’t make any apologies for it.”

  “And he shouldn’t. But listen, here’s the thing. I’m not trying to marry Natalie off, for God’s sake. She just needs to get out and have fun. Since Angelo died, she hasn’t done much of anything. She has a few close girlfriends, but mostly she spends her time at Valentino’s. It’s not healthy. No wonder she wants to sell the place. But maybe she won’t want to sell if she spent time doing other things. Maybe she’d want to hold on to it, cut back her hours, hire someone to take on more of the managerial stuff.”

  “That all sounds terrific. But what’s it got to do with my Uncle Keith? You said yourself, they’re completely wrong for one another.”

  But she was smiling, almost rocking in her seat. “That’s precisely it! My friend got me thinking about it, she said ... well, I won’t bore you with the story. But just because they’re wrong for each other on paper doesn’t mean they wouldn’t have some fun together. Like I said, it’s not like I want her to get married to him. And I’m guessing your Uncle Keith must know a thing or two about women. He’s been married, what, three times? And he’s gone out with plenty of women in between.”

  She took in his raised eyebrows. “Okay on the face of things, this might not make him the best candidate,” she said. “But on the positive side, surely it means he knows how to show a woman a good time?”

  He looked thoughtful. “Actually that’s true, as far as I can tell anyway. He was seeing a woman recently and took her to some nice restaurants, and she seemed to enjoy herself. She came by here one time and he was really sweet with her.”

  “Great! Oh, but is he still seeing this woman?”

  “No. She dumped him. He was pretty upset about it. In fact, he says he’s not interested in women, or dating, or anything like that any more.”