The Perfect Moment

by Alix Kelso

  Laughing, she drank more vodka. “Are we okay?”

  “Of course we’re okay.”

  “I’ll miss you, Keith.”

  “You’re not gone yet.”

  But she leaned over and took his hand across the bar. “I’ll miss you,” she repeated.

  “Aye and I’ll miss you.” He drained his glass and set it down on the counter. “Come on, drink up and get yourself home. Do you need a taxi?”

  “I’ll call one from the restaurant.”

  At the door, they hugged, and Keith understood it would be for the last time. He’d see her again, of course. But not like this. And so he held her while he could, before finally letting her go and watching as she crossed the road to her restaurant.

  She gave him a small wave as she closed Valentino’s doors behind her.

  And that was that, he thought.

  Turning, he picked up their empty glasses from the counter, and because the moment called for it, moved to refill his own. As he held it beneath the blended Scotch optic, he glanced at the pristine rows of single malts, waiting to be opened.

  He’d wanted to wait and take a photograph of the new display in the morning, when the bar was clean and shining and before breaking any of the bottle seals. He’d wanted a photograph that caught it all in a perfect moment. But perfect, he knew, was just fiction.

  And so he chose one of the best single malts from the new collection, tore open the seal, poured a generous measure, and raised a toast to Natalie in the silence of his empty pub.

  Chapter 19

  There was a surprising late August chill in the air, and inside Valentino’s the customers were adapting by ordering hot minestrone and bowls of creamy pasta. Laura surveyed the restaurant for any signs that people were in need of service, but saw none. The lunch rush was over, the tables were cleared, and only a few people still lingered – the mother and her toddler who often came in to pass an hour together, a couple of workmen in fluorescent vests finishing their toasted sandwiches, and, by the window, Mr Davidson scowling into his soup.

  Laura’s shift was almost over, and she’d been uncharacteristically watching the clock for the last half hour. Today she was eager to return to her flat. Since hauling herself over the finish line in the ten-kilometre race, she’d been thinking about things in her life and had woken that morning to find she’d made a decision. A big decision. Now she wanted her shift to be finished so she could go and do something about it.

  She was already mentally pulling off her apron when Natalie came through the restaurant doors and shrugged off her raincoat. When she spied Laura stacking cups and saucers by the coffee machine, she headed straight over.

  “I know you must be due to finish, but do you have time for a quick coffee and a chat?”

  “Sure.”

  “Grab one of those quiet booths in the corner, and I’ll be back in a minute.”

  While Natalie headed to her office, Laura prepared Natalie’s espresso and a cappuccino for herself. By the time she’d carried the tray to the corner booth, Natalie was waiting for her there.

  “Looks like we’ve had our summer,” Natalie said, nodding out of the window at the falling rain while Laura set their coffee cups down on the table.

  “I’m already enjoying this fresher weather.” Laura slid into the booth and stirred sugar into her cup. “I like autumn. Everything always feels so crisp, with the leaves turning and the colder mornings arriving.”

  Natalie sipped her espresso. “Angelo always loved autumn too. It was his favourite season. He said nowhere in the world could look as beautiful as Scotland in autumn. And I think he was right.” Smiling at the memory, she waved a hand. “Anyway, I have some news.”

  As she once more picked up her spoon and needlessly stirred her espresso, Laura watched her. And realised that she knew what was coming next.

  “You’ve found a buyer for Valentino’s.”

  Natalie nodded. “Yes, I have. Her name is Ruby Leighton. She previously ran a couple of little bistros in the city. Last night, she visited after we closed to look around one last time before making her decision. Now, we’ve agreed the broad terms of a sale and it’s in the hands of the solicitors. I wanted to tell you first, before I make the announcement to the rest of the staff.”

  Laura set down her coffee cup. It had been almost six weeks since Natalie had first told her about her plans to sell the restaurant. She thought about how crushed she’d been that day, and her desperation to find some way to prevent it happening. It was amazing how much things had changed since then. And amazing, too, how differently she now felt about everything.

  Laying her hand on Natalie’s, she smiled. “I’m happy for you.”

  Natalie arched an eyebrow. “You are?”

  “I know this is what’s best for you and I know it’s what you want. And so I’m happy for you.”

  “I can’t tell you how pleased I am to hear you say that, Laura. The truth is I was beginning to wonder if this place would sell after all. I love the restaurant so much that I expected people to be beating down my door to buy it. I’m a smart businesswoman, and I know things rarely work that way, but the heart still believed that’s what would happen. Anyway I knew I just had to wait for the right buyer to come along. And she has.”

  “You like her?”

  “Very much. She’s passionate about the restaurant, and while naturally interested in making money, that’s not the only thing that appears to drive her. She’s going to be a good fit. I want you to know I’ve advised her to appoint you assistant manager.”

  “You have?”

  “For goodness sake, Laura, of course I have. I only wish you’d accepted the offer when I made it years ago. Ruby appeared very open to my suggestion, and when she takes over, you should expect that offer to come your way.”

  “Thank you, Natalie.”

  Natalie studied her. “Please don’t tell me you’d turn down such a wonderful offer yet again. You are a good waitress, but you have so much more to offer, and—”

  Laura smiled and held up a hand. “I’m not turning anything down. I’ll think about it. When will she take over?”

  “Probably in a matter of weeks, so you have some time to consider what you want to do. Promise me you will consider it.”

  “I promise. But this isn’t about me, this is about you, Natalie.” She fidgeted for a moment. “What about Keith? You two have been seeing a lot of each other.”

  Natalie cleared her throat. “We’ve had a wonderful time together. But Keith and I were never going to end up in a relationship, not a serious one at least. And so I thought it best that we stopped things before they went any further.”

  “Natalie, I’m sorry I tried to—”

  But it was Natalie’s turn to hold up a hand. “Not another word. I had fun. Keith had fun. And now I need to move on. And Keith needs to find someone who’s right for him. I am not that person.”

  “Still —”

  “I said not another word on the matter, and I meant it.”

  Laura saw the kind smile Natalie gave her and nodded. “Okay, understood. So you must be excited, knowing you can start making your travel plans now. Where will you go to first?”

  “Well I’d originally planned on Ireland to begin with, however—”

  “Waitress! Waitress! Hello, does anyone actually work in this place?”

  They turned to see Mr Davidson waving his soup spoon in the air from the other side of the restaurant.

  “I’ll see what the matter is,” Laura said, and rose.

  “No, I’ll go and deal with the old goat. Off you go home, I’m sure you must have things to get on with.”

  As Natalie made her way over to Mr Davidson, Laura thought, Yes, I do have things to get on with.

  And it was time to do just that.

  Laura stood in her little bedroom, staring at the array of certificates she’d pinned to the wall over the years. Each one meant something to her, and she treasured them, no matter whether the ac
tivities had been frivolous or challenging. Together, they depicted how she’d filled her days and filled her life.

  But it was now time to take them down.

  As she pulled out the pins and tucked the certificates into an empty folder, she felt like the tectonic plates beneath her life were beginning to shift. This one small act, of taking down the old to make way for the new, marked the end of one thing and the beginning of another.

  Once the wall was cleared, she stood back and stared. A blank canvas, she thought, for a new beginning.

  With that work done, she began emptying her wardrobe, her chest of drawers, and the entire bedroom, and when she was finished she hauled everything into the big room that had once been Yvonne’s.

  It was time for this change. For ten years she’d had a flatmate across the hall, and she wondered what it would be like to have this big lovely bedroom for her own. When she found another renter, they would get the small bedroom and she’d adjust the rent accordingly. After a decade watching every penny like a hawk and squirreling money into her savings account for the rainy day she’d felt sure would one day come, there was enough money to keep her going. In fact, after she’d done her sums, she’d realised there was enough money to keep her going for rather a lot longer than she’d imagined.

  As she moved the last of her things into the big bedroom, marvelling at how much space there was, she picked up a folder she’d kept separate from the rest of her boxes. It was the folder Bruce had knocked over that day he’d helped when she’d been ill and half-delirious thanks to the virus she’d caught.

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, she opened it and removed the university files and paperwork she’d stored away.

  It was difficult to remember the girl she’d been back then, an excited eighteen-year-old at the start of her university adventure. Her parents had helped her pack up and move into student halls, and when she’d waved them off she’d been jittery with anticipation. The first few weeks of lectures had passed in a blur, and by the time the Christmas break had come she’d begun to get a handle on the topics she was studying. She was no genius, but she was a hard worker and the hard work had paid off with good grades. When summer came she’d gone home to her parents’ house, hauling a stack of history books from the library that she planned to read during the long summer. She’d devoured those books.

  And then tragedy had struck.

  She flicked through the old files and paperwork in the folder. There were enrolment forms, old essays she’d completed in her first year, module reading lists. She scanned the reading lists and remembered how excited she’d once been about buying copies of those books and diving into them. After her parents died, not only had her university progress come to a halt, but she’d stopped reading history books altogether too. Anytime she tried to read those books for pleasure, she’d only been reminded of the future she’d thought would one day be hers.

  It had taken her a long time to realise just how much she missed the life she’d begun all those years ago, and how much she still ached for what she’d been working towards. She’d imagined burying herself in those history books, and writing a dissertation, and graduating from university, and one day teaching in the classroom. She’d imagined lesson plans, and school projects, and field trips. And yes, she’d known that being a high school teacher wouldn’t all be sunshine and roses. But she’d known, too, that her passion would always keep her going.

  That passion had been knocked out of her when her parents were killed. She’d put on hold the life she’d dreamt of, thinking the pause would only be temporary. When she’d stored away those files and pieces of paperwork, she assumed she’d return to them at some point in the future.

  But it was a future she’d given up on long ago.

  Looking now at the old university documents in her hands, she wondered if that future might still be within her grasp.

  Picking up her phone, she decided it was time to find out.

  Chapter 20

  Laura was waiting in The Crooked Thistle for Bruce when he backed through the pub doors with a load of boxes balanced in his arms. The pub was quiet, with only Jimmy Pearson and Big Kev in their usual places.

  “Hey, gorgeous, what brings you here?” Bruce said.

  Walking over, Laura kissed his cheek and helped him by sliding one of the boxes from the pile. “Did you take a trip to the wholesaler?”

  He nodded. “A bunch of lads came in to watch the football last night and cleared us out of salt-and-vinegar.”

  “Listen, I can’t go into town this afternoon like we’d planned,” Laura said. “Yvonne’s got the day off and invited me over to see her new place. I hope you don’t mind if we postpone?”

  “Course not. But you could’ve just texted me, you didn’t have to come over.”

  “I did text you actually, but got no reply.”

  Bruce frowned and reached into his jeans pockets and came out empty handed. “I don’t know where my phone is, hang on a minute.” He walked back out, and returned a minute later waving the phone in the air. “I must’ve forgotten to take it into the wholesalers. Anyway, no problem about today. What are you doing tomorrow?”

  “I’m working until two, why?”

  “I’ve got a pub viewing at four and wondered if you’d like to come.”

  “Sure, if you don’t mind the company.”

  “Mind it? I need it. I need company, I need advice. I’m getting desperate.”

  Keith appeared in the bar. “Bruce, good, you’re back. Go into the kitchen and take a look at those loose floor tiles, would you?”

  “Sure.” Bruce turned to Laura and kissed her. “Have a good time with Yvonne, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  As Bruce disappeared from the bar, Jimmy Pearson and Big Kev looked up from their newspapers and made crooning sounds.

  “Young love,” Big Kev said.

  “Aye, young love, that’s right,” Keith said. “You’re too old and twisted to remember what that’s like.” He turned to Laura. “Just ignore these two old farts.”

  “I like your new whisky display, Keith,” she said.

  He turned and admired it. “Aye, I’m pleased with it. Even these two misers have already tried something new.”

  She took Keith’s arm and pulled him gently to the end of the bar out of earshot. “Keith, I know that Natalie’s found a buyer for the restaurant. And I know that the two of you won’t be seeing each other any more. I want to say I’m sorry, because I was the one who got you both together in the first place.”

  But Keith waved a hand. “Natalie and I had a wonderful time together. You don’t have anything to apologise for. In fact, I think you did both of us a favour.”

  She looked uncertain. “Really?”

  “Natalie needed a bit of fun, now that she’s finally beginning to move on after losing Angelo. And as for me, well, I needed to be reminded that there are good women out there, and that I should stop letting myself chase after the ones who are wrong for me.”

  “Hmm, well …”

  “And the fact is that you and Bruce ended up together while you were cooking up this scheme to pair me off with Natalie. I couldn’t be happier to see you two hit it off.”

  “That’s sweet, Keith.”

  “Don’t know about sweet. But it’s true.”

  Bruce stuck his head around the kitchen door. “Uncle Keith, I could use a hand in here.”

  Once Keith walked off to help Bruce, Laura picked up her bag and was preparing to leave when she heard a pinging sound coming from the boxes she and Bruce had set down on the floor. Turning, she realised Bruce had again forgotten his phone, this time leaving it balanced on top of the boxes of crisps.

  Shaking her head, she reached for the phone, knowing it would be safer on the bar counter rather than balanced on a stack of boxes.

  She didn’t mean to read the incoming message that popped up on the screen. It was simply there.

  This is Heather, again. Stop ignoring me and pretending this i
sn’t happening, Bruce. We need to talk.

  Laura stared at the message, long and hard. A cold sensation skittered across her skin.

  While the phone was still in her hand, another message arrived.

  I’m outside the pub right now and just saw you walk through the doors. I’m coming in.

  Stunned, Laura continued staring at the phone screen. Seconds later, the doors of the pub swung open and a woman walked inside.

  Heather.

  Laura watched the woman glance around the pub. She was beautiful. Long auburn hair, startling blue eyes, cheekbones any woman would kill for, and dressed immaculately in a stunning dress that flowed all the way over ...

  ... all the way over her bump.

  Understanding hit Laura like a fist to the guts.

  The woman was pregnant. Probably around seven months.

  In a flash, she remembered that afternoon she’d met Bruce’s sister-in-law, Claire, who’d almost said something about the divorce that she’d seemed to think Laura must already know.

  And now Heather stood before her, resting a hand on her baby bump.

  “Excuse me,” Heather said to her. “Do you know Bruce McGraw? I saw him come in here as I pulled up outside.”

  But Laura couldn’t speak. She could only stare.

  “Um, hello? I’m looking for Bruce McGraw?”

  Stop ignoring me and pretending this isn’t happening, Heather’s message had read.

  Laura looked one more time at the woman’s swollen belly before grabbing her bag and running for the door.

  Bruce was finally making progress with the loose tiles in the kitchen when he heard Jimmy Pearson calling his name.

  “Bruce! You’d better get out here.”

  Laying down his tools, he pushed through the kitchen door, expecting to see a sudden rush of punters looking for their lunchtime pints.

  Instead, he saw Heather.

  “You’ve got a visitor,” Jimmy Pearson said, his tone unusually sombre.

  “Heather, what are you doing here?” Bruce attempted to walk over but found his feet wouldn’t move.