‘Danny, you’re up,’ the chubby guy called out to thin air as he racked up the balls. I glanced over to where he’d turned his head but couldn’t see anyone. Suddenly, the kitchen doors swung open and Danny’s presence filled the room.
He looked smart, well dressed, but casual. A confident grin was the main feature to his otherwise plain face. He swaggered over to the pool table, gloating to his friend that he’d already beaten him five times that day. A pint for the winner. Bet a fiver he’ll win. Heads and tails decided the other guy won the break and Danny stood back, chalking up his cue, sharing an in-joke with Lanky. I watched him walk around the table, line up his ball, and easily sink a red into the far corner pocket, with the white lining up perfectly for his next shot.
Using his cue to gesture, he started telling the chubby guy, Rick, his next few shots. He was sure of himself, cocky, but not arrogant. I found my eyes following him every time he moved. An elderly man walked up to the bar and Danny walked past me to serve him, taking him out of my eyeline. I took a sip of my drink and glanced over my shoulder. He chatted with the man, who was obviously a regular, called over to Rick to stop cheating as it was still his turn, and disappeared off to change a barrel.
Turning my attention back to the guys at the pool area, I heard Max talking to the man at the bar. He called over to me to ask if I needed topping up, and as I turned and said yes, Danny returned.
‘Alright, mate.’ He reached out to shake Max’s hand. ‘I didn’t even know you were here.’ They obviously knew each other. After a few minutes chatting, Max returned to the table with my drink and his replenished pint, and Danny went back to his game, easily beating Rick. We finished our drinks and left.
Walking to the bus stop, Max started telling me about his history with Danny. Max was born and bred in Brighton, and when he was at college he got a part time job in a nearby bar where Danny used to come in with his dad at weekends; merely a boy. As soon as he was old enough, he became the pot boy, then helped in the kitchen, and then finally joined Max behind the bar. They became The Lambs’ dream team.
Danny had been full of ideas to bring in the punters. Cocktail nights, happy hours, live bands, and casino nights. He dreamed of owning his own bar in the city centre and wanted Max to come with him, but the bar work for him was just to pass the time and eventually Max got his dream job in Eastbourne, and left. When he returned for a drink just six months later, to catch up with his old team, Danny had left. Some sort of big fall-out with the landlord.
‘I didn’t see him again until I moved back. First day in my new job in my new office, we went to the closest bar for a pub lunch and there he was. Owning his own bar in the centre of the city.’ Max looked like a proud big brother. ‘I’ve only been in a few times, but I love seeing him. He reminds me of my roots.’
I didn’t feel guilty for taking a shine to Danny. It wasn’t unusual for me to notice another guy. Max and I were human. Of course, we found other people attractive; we were just never tempted to act on it. Max was the kind of guy who called barmaids darling and gave a wink as a thank you, but he loved me and I loved him. That was what was important. I could look back on this day and make it out to be something huge, but it wasn’t. It was just a normal day with Max, and Danny was just a guy in a bar. He didn’t even cross my mind until the next time I saw him.
Chapter Nine
‘I’m getting married!’ Kat screamed down the phone at me.
‘Oh my God! Really?’
‘Yes! Ben just proposed like a second ago, and the first thing I wanted to do was call you.’
I pictured Ben still on his knees in a restaurant, awaiting an official answer.
‘That’s great news, darling.’ I couldn’t mask the concern in my voice. I barely knew him. How could I be sure he was right for her? On the other hand, I would have trusted Sean with my life and look how disastrously that had turned out. Kat seemed happy; I didn’t want to dampen that. We made the arrangements. Celebration drinks tomorrow night, Eastbourne town, sleepover.
The next night, as the train neared Eastbourne station, I rattled off my worries to Max. Kat and Ben had barely been together five minutes.
‘Let’s just enjoy tonight, babe. Ben seems alright, let’s give him a chance.’
I knew Max was right, but I was really struggling living so far from Kat. I’d joined Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter, downloaded WhatsApp and Snapchat. We Facetimed at least every other day, but still I felt a million miles away.
Despite my worries, I had an amazing night. By the end of the evening, I was happy to hand my friend over to her fiancé. He was going to make an awesome husband to her, and drinking partner to me.
It was gone 4am when the four of us got back to Kat’s flat. I fell off the sofa bed before Max even got in it. We were all in fits of giggles.
‘I actually think my liver is begging me to have a weekend off,’ I said through laughter. Max went and made tea for everyone, and we put on stupid cartoons and drifted off one by one.
I woke up in the morning, desperate for the loo and with sunlight streaming on my face. Every morning after the night before, I lay still for a few minutes wondering if today would be the day my hangovers would kick in.
Once I knew I was safe, I made my way down the corridor to the toilet. As I neared the open door at the end of the hallway, I was frozen by the noises coming from behind the closed door in the middle. Oh my God, Kat and Ben were having sex. I tiptoed past their room, really wishing I had a much bigger bladder. Sitting on the loo trying to pee quietly, I put my fingers in my ears hoping to block out the sounds of his heavy breathing mixed with her murmurings of ‘oh God’ and ‘yes yes, yes’. This was so embarrassing.
I then had a traumatic decision to make. Should I flush the toilet and let the amorous duo know someone was nearby? Deciding against it, I hurried back down the corridor and ran into the living room just as Max climbed off the sofa and headed towards the door I’d just come through.
‘Morning, babe.’
‘Where are you going?’ I loud-whispered, grabbing his arm and stopping him.
‘I need to pee.’
‘No! You can’t! Go outside,’ I laughed.
‘What? Why?’
‘They’re having sex,’ I mouthed.
Max’s eyes widened, and he listened down the corridor. I loved our level of maturity when it came to other people’s sex lives. It turned us into giggling school children. He decided he would rather risk upsetting the neighbours than disturb them, so headed outside.
I made tea whilst Max started on his speciality fried breakfast. We hoped the smell of bacon would entice them out of the bedroom.
‘Surely they can’t still be going?’ Max said, turning down the oven.
‘Maybe that’s why Kat is so keen to marry him.’ We laughed as the living room door opened and a flushed-faced Kat walked in.
‘Good morning,’ she said.
‘It is for some.’ I grinned. Her eyes widened. She knew I knew.
‘Alright, Casey, I’m sure we can be grown-ups here.’
‘Where’s Ben?’ I asked, mock concern in my voice. ‘Hey, Max, do you think she’s killed him?’
Kat shoved me as she walked past. ‘Shut up.’
‘If she has, babe, he’s sure to have a smile on his face.’
‘He’s taking a shower. Glad to see you guys are as mature as ever. City life hasn’t changed you.’
‘Oh Kat. I’m only jealous. It’s a struggle to get Max to last past the ten-minute mark.’
‘Oi!’ I heard, as a wet tea towel flicked me on the arm. ‘I last at least twelve.’
We always did this. Mocked each other in front of people, played down how much we had sex, but secretly behind closed doors we had never really left the honeymoon phase.
Max served up the plates as Ben walked in, and the four of us sat down to breakfast.
Chapter Ten
Christmas season rolled around, and our social calendars were filling u
p nicely. My works do, Max’s works do, shopping dates with Kat, my mum’s brief annual visit, a trip to see Dad, and Boxing Day with the future in-laws. Max and I were excited to be hosting our first Christmas together.
My works do was in a hotel. Christmas dinner and a disco, with a few bottles of wine on the table. Max’s was a little more upmarket. A night in the casino. All drinks paid, dinner, entertainment, and a small amount of chips thrown in.
Max had been teaching me poker, and surprised me by signing us up to play. I was excited to be able to sit down and practise with the big boys. I was starting to learn Max’s little tells. How he tapped his foot when waiting for a card, and stopped instantly the second he was saved. Also, the way he rubbed his chin twice when he was trying to bluff. With a room of strangers, I would enjoy the challenge.
The poker room was a mixture of people from the Christmas parties and walk-ins off the street. Max and I got seated on different tables. There were about seven women in a room of ninety. I was starting to feel nervous. Was I even ready for this? Playing strip poker with my boyfriend at home, and a bit of full tilt online, wasn’t probably the best warm-up for poker in the room.
I smiled over to Max who was in the farthest corner. He gave me a thumbs-up to check I was ok, then started to mouth something at me.
‘What?’ I mouthed back
He was saying someone’s here, but I couldn’t quite make out who. Daddy? That made no sense.
‘Hey.’ A voice startled me to my left. Danny.
‘Hey,’ I replied, taken aback. Danny’s here. That’s what Max had been saying. We’d been back into his bar not long after the first time, and I’d been formally introduced.
‘Guess this is my seat.’ He raised his eyebrows, taking a seat two away from me.
‘Looks like it is.’
There was still something about him. A pull. A vibe. I enjoyed being around him. He interested me. The conversation flowed easily on our table. Seven strangers and us. One of them asked if Danny was my boyfriend. We laughed. How absurd that someone would think that. Could other people see the connection that I felt?
I heard Max celebrating a win over on the far side of the room. ‘No, that’s my man.’ I pointed him out. We had been together nearly three years, and I was still so proud to call him my boyfriend. I blew him a kiss from across the room. As I looked back to my table, Danny’s head turned away quickly.
Every time I saw him, we got a little bit flirtier. It was completely innocent. Max was the one, but I enjoyed feeling wanted by another man. He fancied me, that much was obvious, but neither of us ever crossed the line. When I saw him out and about, he’d buy me a shot, or sell me a double for the price of a single when I went in his bar. Danny had become as much a friend of mine as he was to Max. When Max was away or working late, he’d send Danny round to look after me or keep me company. It was great. I could flirt endlessly knowing he would never make a pass at me. Safe flirting. That was the only thing I missed about my single days. Flirting had always been a sport for me, but nowadays you couldn’t even say hi to a guy without them trying to get into your pants.
Back in the room, the numbers were dwindling and I was getting a good stack of chips in front of me. I was replaying some of the tips from my poker book in my head. Eighty percent of hands should be folded. Make strong bets, double the blind is more likely to scare people off. Danny and I got separated as the ten tables broke down to less and less. In the breaks, the three of us huddled in the smoking area, exchanging our bad beat stories.
I couldn’t believe that I made it to the final table. For the first time that evening, I found myself seated at the same table as Max. He had a few more chips than me. Danny had been one of the last ones to bust out, and was standing behind Max’s shoulder. A crowd of ex-players and some of the other casino guests started to gather. I kept my cool and managed to get down to the final three.
My hands were starting to sweat, and I could feel my eye start to twitch. The pressure was on. I really wanted to beat Max. We were a very competitive couple, whether it was race games on a console or a board game with friends; we both really wanted to win. I knew if he won now, I would never hear the end of it.
Danny was talking to a couple of the guys from Max’s office. He knew them from the bar. I managed to beat the other guy with four of a kind over his two pairs. The river card was being kind to me tonight.
So, here we were, Max and I, heads up on my first ever real game of poker. The blinds were high and we were both folding most of our hands, so money was just passing back and forth between us. Our dealer worked fast, shuffling and dealing the cards with ease. Max won a couple of hands in a row, giving him a comfortable advantage with his stack. He was big blind, and I looked down at my ten and king of spades. I considered raising but I just met his blind.
The dealer turned the first three cards. Queen of spades, ten of diamonds, and two of clubs. That gave me a pair of tens and an extra spade. Max looked confident, but with the blinds how they were I wouldn’t be able to last many more hands before my chips ran out. I was scared to move. I didn’t touch my hair; I made sure I didn’t blink too fast or too slow. I didn’t want to give anything away.
The bets were made, and the turn card came out. Jack of spades. Oh my God. I was one card away from a royal flush. I played with my stack of chips in front of me, trying to look disappointed. Max put the minimum bet, and I paused a moment before raising him by 400. He watched me for a while. I hoped he would think I was bluffing, and it worked. Max stared me straight in the eye.
‘All in.’ He pushed his chips into the middle. I could have folded and given him most of my chip stack, but I decided this was my last chance to make a difference in the game.
I had a few different outs, so I called. Max had more than me, so I had to win to stay in the game. I sat back and shrugged. ‘All in.’
I gulped hard as the dealer placed a burn card down on the table. The crowd moved forward to see. Max turned over his ace and ten of hearts. He was winning so far. I needed a spade to win. My leg started to shake. I turned my cards over. I felt the whole room hold its breath as the river got revealed. The ace of spades. I couldn’t believe it. I had a royal flush! I’d won the hand.
It left Max just enough for the next four blinds. He looked a bit gutted, but I could tell he was also proud. Two hands later, Max was forced to go all in with nothing but a pair of ducks to my pair of sixes, and the game was over. I was the winner.
‘Beginner’s luck,’ Max joked, as we shook hands over the table.
‘You’re just sore you got beaten by a girl,’ I laughed.
‘Yep. This time you didn’t even need to get your tits out.’
‘OK. I reckon I joined that convo at the wrong time.’ Danny handed us both a drink.
‘Strip poker, mate,’ Max explained.
Max put his arm around my shoulder. ‘What do you say to collecting our winnings and hitting the black jack tables, babe?’
‘I say, show me the way.’
The three of us gambled well into the early hours, before Danny got a cab home and we went upstairs to enjoy the room we’d booked.
Chapter Eleven
‘You’re losing weight.’ My mother pulled and prodded at me.
‘I’m not, Mum. I’m toning up. Max and I have joined the gym.’
‘Do you moisturise?’ She pulled my face to her. ‘Your skin isn’t getting any younger, you know.’
‘Nice to see you, too, Mum. How was your flight?’
‘Not bad. The usual. Jonathan booked me first class.’
‘He’s not joining you this time?’
‘No. The witch snapped her fingers, as per. Oh, make me a tea, darling. I’m gasping.’
‘Max is on it. So, how is his mum?’
‘Evil. The sooner she croaks it, the better.’
‘You can’t say that, Mum.’
‘Nonsense. I say it to her face. Evil old crone.’
I had never met Mrs Carrick
, but you could tell by the way my mother spoke of her that there was no love lost between them. Jonathan was slightly younger than Mum, and Mrs Carrick held her solely responsible for robbing her of grandchildren. Jonathan had never wanted to be a father, but didn’t have the balls to say that to his mother. The woman did sound like a bit of a dragon; not that my mother was any sort of angel.
‘Here you go, Jill.’ Max brought a tray of tea into the living room.
‘Oh, thank you, my little stud muffin.’ She looked Max up and down.
‘He’s taken, Mother.’
‘Shame,’ she sighed in great pantomime-style.
She’d always flirted with my boyfriends. ‘Don’t worry, Max,’ I teased him, ‘she doesn’t bite.’ I handed Max the bags and he ran them up to the spare room.
Mum looked at me with a warm smile. ‘It’s good to see you, baby.’
‘You, too, Mum.’
I loved Jill McArthur with all my heart, although she had never been a conventional mum. She was an actress, touring the country with plays and pantomimes. When I was really little, Dad and I followed her round from place to place, living in hotels and B&Bs, as she chased the road to stardom. Once I hit school age, we stayed at home, Dad got a full-time job, and Nan and Grandad took over chief babysitting duties. It wasn’t until I was seven that Mum decided to take a break and give the family life a go.
She found it hard being a housewife, though, and she and Dad realised the only thing they had in common was me. They divorced almost as quickly as they got married. It felt no different to me. I couldn’t remember them being together, really. Mum went back on the road, and I went back to seeing her on birthdays and Christmases.
Another Woman's Man Page 3