‘Good job, team,’ Kate said, her mouth adopting an upturned crescent shape for a second. ‘Let me know when the last punter’s gone and I’ll grab the till.’
Once Kate had slithered back into the office, Natalie held her hand out to me and I dutifully shook it. ‘Good job, team mate,’ she said.
‘And you, comrade. Another battle is won.’
‘And won well. Floor or bar?’
We were twenty minutes from closing and there were only four customers left, all of them nursing drinks that were at least a half-hour old, so we could safely start to break down and clean up. ‘I’ll take the floor,’ I said. ‘You’re too wee to lift the chairs up.’
‘And you’re a height-ist, slap head.’
‘That’s not a word.’
‘No, it’s two words: slap and head.’
‘I meant height-ist.’
‘Now you’re being word-ist. Get to work, old man.’
‘Sounds like you two need an English teacher,’ Paula said from behind me.
I turned round. ‘How come you’re the only person apart from Sammy who can open that door without it creaking?’
Paula shrugged her shoulders. ‘Luck of the Irish?’
‘If you look at the history you’ve not been that lucky, overall,’ I said.
‘Me personally or my race in general?’
‘Bit of both, really.’
‘Okay. Am I too late for a drink?’
Natalie barged in before I could answer. ‘No bother, Paula. What you for?’
‘A white wine, thanks.’
Paula’s eyebrows sent a question my way. My eyebrows tried to answer. Paula’s eyes indicated she either hadn’t understood or possibly wasn’t happy with my answer. I did my best to placate her with a combination of eye and eyebrow signals, but I wasn’t confident. Paula looked over towards Natalie, who was pouring her wine, and looked very pointedly back at me. I gave up and nodded.
‘Prick,’ Paula hissed.
‘Sorry,’ I whispered back.
‘You’re hopeless.’
‘I know, sorry. She already knew something was going on, though. She’s a good girl, it’ll be fine.’
Natalie came back over with Paula’s drink. ‘There you go.’
‘Cheers, Natalie. I hear this moron of a man has been letting cats out of bags all over the place.’
Natalie looked at me before answering. ‘It actually makes a lot more sense than some of the theories that have been doing the rounds.’
‘Abe thinks we’re Jehovah’s Witnesses,’ I said, in what felt like a piss-poor defence.
Paula shook her head and smiled. ‘Just tell me that Kate one doesn’t know.’
‘No fears,’ Natalie said. ‘She’s too busy trying to pretend she’s busy to give a shit about us plebs.’
Paula reached a hand out towards a surprised Natalie, who reciprocated more out of politeness than purpose, by the look of things.
‘Welcome to the fold,’ Paula said, shaking Natalie’s hand. ‘This is all still a bit delicate, I hope Jim explained that to you.’
‘Don’t worry, doll.’ Natalie said, returning the grip. ‘He’s my new favourite uncle, is Jim. I wouldn’t do a thing to hurt him.’
I was standing back hoping no one would throw anything at me at this point, but I noticed them exchange an odd look I didn’t understand. They seemed to come to an understanding though, which was the main thing.
‘Right, mister,’ Paula said to me. ‘This wine is fine, but I need a coffee. Get this placed cleaned up so you can take me away and not ravage me somewhere.’
‘Yes ma’am.’
The few remaining customers left a couple of minutes later and I grabbed the keys from beside the till and locked the door.
Natalie stuck her head through the office door and shouted, ‘That’s us!’
Kate appeared to get the float. ‘Oh, hi, Paula,’ she said, giving Paula one of those looks women give other women sometimes.
‘How are you, Kate? Busy night?’ Anyone who didn’t know her would think Paula was being as friendly as a beagle to a butcher; she would have made an excellent politician.
‘Always is,’ Kate said, equally convincing. ‘What brings you in?’
‘Oh, I left my purse at Sammy’s the other night - I’m a daft cow sometimes - and he gave it to Jimbo here to hold on to for me. I was passing and thought I’d nip in to get it, then figured I might as well cadge a lift home with Jimmy-boy, seeing as he’s going in my direction.’
Now that was quality lying. Paula didn’t do any of that looking up to the left and down to the right, or whatever it is that’s meant to give you away. She simply maintained eye contact with Kate and smiled. Screw being a politician, she should have taken up poker and made some real money.
‘Oh right. He shouldn’t be too much longer. Make sure you take the rubbish out when you leave, Jim.’ I felt Kate let herself down a bit with that one; cutting - yes, subtle - no.
‘Eh, yeah, no bother,’ I said.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll give him a hand,’ Paula said. ‘I’ll even make sure he gets rid of the bin in the office.’ I don’t know how she managed it, but there was no missing the silent ‘t’ at the end of ‘bin’.
Kate’s face froze briefly before she regained composure and did one of those wrinkly-nosed smiles that says I hope you get cancer.
‘I’d better get back to work, I’m sure I’ll see you again soon, Paula.’
‘Cheerio,’ Paula said brightly as Kate scurried back through the office door. If Bruce was up there watching, he’d just witnessed a master class on the art of fighting without fighting.
With the door closed, Natalie stopped kidding-on she was working and rushed over to Paula. ‘I love you,’ she said. ‘Please teach me how to do that to her.’
Paula laughed. ‘It’s only easy because I don’t work here. If she was my boss I’d never have the balls.’
‘Aw.’ Natalie looked disappointed.
‘It helps if you’re a bitch, right enough,’ Paula said. ‘I’ve found having plenty of gay pals helps; every cocktail comes with a built-in ‘how to be a sarky cow’ tutorial.’
I was feeling a bit left out as Natalie giggled. ‘You’re just trying to make me jealous,’ I said.
‘Oh God, aye! Natalie, has Jim told you about his recent realisation about his best friend?’
I had. ‘Now come on, Paula, don’t make fun of the poor man,’ Natalie said, still laughing. ‘That would have been traumatic for anyone. It’s a big shift-change in their relationship.’
‘D’you think he’ll cope?’
‘As long as we offer him the adequate support,’ Natalie said, ‘I reckon he’ll be all right.’
‘I feel better knowing you’re here for him,’ Paula said. ‘Thanks for that.’
‘Glad to do it.’
Piss-taking complete, they both looked at me. ‘Are we done?’ I asked. ‘’Cos I’ve still got some work to do, you know.’
‘Don’t forget the rubbish,’ Paula said, saluting me with her wine.
‘So do you, wee man,’ I said to Natalie.
‘Yessir, sorry sir, right away, sir. Should I check back in when I’ve completed each task, so you can inspect my work?’
‘Piss off,’ I said, reasonably.
We got busy.
As I tidied up behind her, Paula tugged my sleeve and gestured me over. She nodded towards Natalie, who was involved in a battle of wits with the ice machine. ‘I like her,’ Paula whispered.
‘Told you.’
Five minutes later I was back behind the bar helping Natalie put the last of the glasses away when she punched my arm lightly to get my attention. She nodded towards Paula, who was peering into her wine glass in a manner suggesting she’d seen something floating there she wished she’d spotted before starting to drink from it. ‘I like her,’ Natalie whispered.
‘Told you,’ I said.
‘If she’s the one, she’s a good one.’
‘Good one.’
***
‘So,’ Paula said as we sat in The Grind.
‘So,’ I answered. There was that wee bit of awkwardness.
‘Why do we still have these weird moments, do you think?’
I shrugged. ‘Probably because we’re weirdoes.’
‘Speak for yourself.’
‘I mean our circumstances. No rule book, you know.’
‘I suppose. You’d think we’d be used to it by now.’
‘I’m kind of hoping it doesn’t go on long enough for us to get used to it,’ I said. ‘I don’t think it would be very healthy if we started to think this was normal, do you?’
‘No, you’re right.’ Paula smiled and drank some coffee, careful to check her nose for froth afterwards.
‘No word on Isaak?’
‘Only that he’s still hanging in there. I feel like such a shite, acting as if nothing’s wrong to Ingo.’
I had become expert at pretending Ingo didn’t exist when I was with Paula, but he was bound to come up every now and then. ‘Maybe you should tell him, get it over with.’
‘I can’t, Jim. It’s not fair to him; I need to wait till his situation changes.’
‘I know you think that,’ I said. ‘But are you sure it wouldn’t be better for everyone to get it out in the open?’
‘No Jim, it might be better for you, but that doesn’t mean it would for anyone else.’
I didn’t appreciate the accusation in Paula’s voice, but I understood her frustration (sort of). ‘That’s not what I meant; I can wait as long as we need to.’
Paula sighed. ‘I know, sorry. I keep forgetting how hard this must be for you.’
‘Hey, I get to have you around. It may not be perfect yet but it’s a hell of a lot better than nothing.’
‘Yeah, right. You love all this hand-holding and nose kissing.’
‘I don’t not love it,’ I said. ‘I won’t deny I’m looking forward to being able to hold and kiss some other bits of you, right enough.’
She laughed. ‘Me feckin’ too, you’re not the only one with a libido here.’
‘Good to know. Can I ask you something?’
‘I should hope so.’
‘Once all this is sorted, what do you want to do?’
She looked confused. ‘I don’t follow.’
‘About us,’ I said. ‘Do you want to look for a place together, get engaged, all that stuff?’
‘Jim, I hope you won’t be disappointed to learn I have no intention of ever getting married again.’
‘Fair enough.’ I was a little disappointed, but tried not to let it show. ‘What about getting a flat?’
‘That, I could cope with. I need to leave it a respectable amount of time though or my mother would be scandalised.’
‘How long, do you think?’
‘After we’re out in the open? A few months at least.’
I was about to speak, but the misery must have been clear enough on my face that I didn’t have to.
‘I’m married, Jim. It’s not the same as just chucking some guy.’
‘I know that. Just not too many months, okay?’
‘And this would be purely because you want to live with me, and nothing at all to do with the fact you can’t afford a place on your own?’
‘Of course.’
‘Yeah, right.’
‘You do want to, though, when the time’s right?’
After the now habitual look around to check she didn’t know anyone in the vicinity, Paula reached for my hand and clasped it firmly.
‘Jim, you’re it. I don’t know if I wish we’d stayed together twelve years ago because then I might have missed out on going to Germany, but you’re it. You’re stuck with me, boyo, get used to it.’
‘I’ll do my best. I really want to kiss you right now.’
‘Me too,’ she said, squeezing my hand almost to the point of pain, and then letting go. ‘Guess we better change the subject. How’s Terry getting on? Is Ronni still abusing him?’
‘Seems to be. He was in for lunch the other day and I swear he’s lost some weight. He had a mountain of steak-pie and chips, so it can only be the exercise.’
‘Good for them. I can’t believe I’m jealous of a guy I barely know and a girl I’ve never met.’
‘Careful, that way lies madness.’
‘True. What’s the deal with you and Terry, anyway? How come he’s the only mate you ever talk about?’
‘He’s the only one I’ve got, I suppose.’
‘See, I don’t get that,’ Paula said. ‘You were always in the middle of a crowd back in our Basement days. What happened?’
‘I don’t know, really,’ I said. ‘I switched jobs so many times that I ended up switching mates, too, I suppose. I’ve always been rubbish at holding on to people, yourself being a case in point.’
‘How many jobs have you had?’
‘Now you’re asking. Let’s see.’ I started to count in my head.
‘Roughly?’
‘Well, after The Basement I worked in four other pubs. Then about nine years ago I switched to call centres and worked in five of them, not including Combined Utilities. They conned me at the interview that it wasn’t really a call centre, but it was. So what’s that, ten, eleven?’
‘Bloody hell.’
‘Is that a lot? No such thing as a job for life these days, at least according to every taxi driver I’ve ever met. In pubs you hang out with the other staff, but in call centres you’re generally lucky to find even one person you don’t want to kill painfully. Terry’s the closest thing I’ve found to a proper human being in any of them.’
Paula looked horrified. ‘That’s so sad. Why didn’t you keep in touch with anyone from your pub days?’
‘Dunno. No one ever does, really.’
‘I did.’
‘But you moved away,’ I said.
‘So?’
‘So, I bet if you’d stayed here you’d have drifted apart from loads of folk. It’s the very fact you left that made you want to keep them in your life, as a safety-net sort of thing.’
‘No it wasn’t.’
‘You say that, but I’m telling you it’s true. When something’s right there in front of you it’s way too easy to take it for granted and stop paying any attention to it. It’s only because you knew you couldn’t see people that you felt you had to keep in touch with them.’
‘No, it wasn’t.’
‘Bet you it was. I’ve never even been to the Burrell Collection.’
‘Huh?’
‘One of the greatest private collections of artworks and antiques in the world and I’ve never been, despite the fact it’s only a couple of miles down the road. I guarantee you that if it was in Manchester or somewhere I’d want to see it. Christ, I might even go to Edinburgh if I was bored and had all my injections. But put it in PollokPark and I couldn’t give a shit. It’s always there, so I don’t need to plan or make an effort to see it, I can go any time I like. So I never have and probably never will. Friends are the same.’ This was possibly the most convincing and logical argument I had ever formed in my life, and I felt proud of my insight.
‘That’s a huge pile of shite and makes absolutely no sense at all,’ Paula said. ‘Firstly, you should go to the Burrell Collection, it’s brilliant. Secondly, you don’t stay in touch with people as a safety-net; you stay in touch because they make you laugh or listen to you moan; because they accept you, faults and all, because they like you and you like them. That’s what friendship is.’
‘No, Paula,’ I said. ‘That’s what friendship is for women. For guys it’s mainly about getting drunk and talking about the very, very few things women won’t talk about, i.e. non-reality TV shows that aren’t soap operas, and sci-fi movies.’
‘You forgot football,’ Paula said, shaking her head.
‘And football, yes. Thanks.’
‘You believe that, don’t y
ou?’
‘It’s not a matter of belief, it’s plain fact.’
‘You worry me greatly sometimes, Jim.’
‘I appreciate your concern, but it’s unfounded. I’m not unusual Paula, I’m just a guy.’
‘A 33 year-old guy who only has one friend. That’s not normal, I promise you. Sammy has friends coming out of his arse,’ (I promise I didn’t snigger), ‘so does Damian, and Steph; pretty much every guy I know except you. Christ, Ingo has more mates than you, and he’s a teacher.’
‘Eh.’ It had never occurred to me to think I was deficient in this area. I suppose Terry was big enough to feel like multiple mates in many ways; he certainly took up multiple seats in the pub. ‘I get on with Natalie and Mark at work,’ I said. I would have mentioned Lucy too, but Paula had met her and so knew how good looking she was, and I couldn’t be bothered with an ‘of course it’s her personality’ variation on the Sheryl Crow thing.
‘I’m sure you do, but have you ever seen them outside of work?’
‘No,’ I admitted.
‘Why not?’
‘Eh. Natalie sees her boyfriend most nights and I’m not a hundred percent sure Mark likes me.’
‘Friends are so important, Jim,’ Paula said. ‘I can’t believe you don’t know that.’
‘I’m a wanker, not an idiot, Paula.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Are you patronising me?’
‘I think I may be, yes.’
‘As long as you’re aware of it.’
‘Sorry. I just know how much my mates have helped me out over the years. I’d be a complete feckin’ mess without them.’
‘This is hard for you, isn’t it?’ I said.
‘What?’
‘Not being able to tell them all what’s going on.’
‘When did you learn how to read me so well?’
‘Your dad must be rubbing-off.’
She laughed. ‘Please God, don’t say that! You’re right, though, I feel crappy, lying to them. They all keep asking when Ingo’s coming over, what we’re going to do, where we’re going to live. It’s hard.’
‘Surely they could keep a secret. Why don’t you tell them?’
Paula drained the last of her coffee. ‘I know you want to tell the world, but it’s not that easy. I had to tell Andrea and Sammy, I couldn’t help it, and I understand why you told Terry. But every time someone else finds out it feels like I’m betraying Ingo, like I’m saying he doesn’t deserve any respect. He’s not a bad person, Jim.’ Her eyes dropped. ‘Does that make any sense?’
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