Half the World Away

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Half the World Away Page 8

by Rebecca Banks


  ‘See, you’re not so bad after all. And I’m pretty sure I see a smile hiding there somewhere.’

  ‘This is actually a lot of fun, Kyle. Thank you. I’d never have done this myself and it’s so beautiful up here.’

  ‘You see all these little kids flying around on boards? If a bunch of five-year-olds can handle it, I’m pretty sure a badass woman from Britain has nothing to be scared of.’

  She laughed as she looked further afield and, lo and behold, saw kids that couldn’t have been long out of nappies flying down the beginner slopes on skis and boards.

  ‘What do you say we have one run down this little slope before we wrap it up today. You’re more than capable, you know.’

  Filled with confidence from her lesson, she agreed. ‘You’re buying dinner after this, though. On account of you trying to frighten the life out of me today. That’s if you have time, I expect you have plans.’

  ‘Not at all. I told you, today I’m in charge and I’ve already got a plan, don’t you worry.’

  Abbie was pleased at the thought of the day stretching out even further, although she reminded herself she had to keep Kyle in the friend zone.

  Suddenly desperate to get off the slopes and hunker down in a warm restaurant with a glass of wine in her hands, she pushed herself to her feet as Kyle had showed her, pointed her lead foot forward and pushed off.

  ‘Abbie, wait,’ she heard Kyle shout out, but she was off.

  Although it was a pretty gentle slope, it felt like she was going faster than she could cope with and she felt a sense of panic rising as she desperately tried to keep her balance. She was staying on her feet but the panic was making her wobble and she couldn’t remember how to stop.

  Suddenly, looming in the near distance she saw two pools of water next to each other, with a group of children standing around them looking at their reflections, or trying to spot fish.

  She was heading right for them.

  She was going to massacre a bunch of kids on a beginner’s ski slope.

  ‘Watch out!’ she cried as she neared the children, who looked up and started darting out of the way left and right.

  She tried to steer the board and somehow managed to skim between the pools, on a piece of snow only just wider than the board itself.

  Realising she had managed to avoid mass murder, she tried to engage her brain to remember how to stop the bloody thing. Then she felt herself grabbed from behind and plonked on her bottom on the snow.

  Kyle. Her rescuer.

  She looked up at him, knowing her cheeks were stained red with half adrenaline, half embarrassment and her eyes were probably still showing shock and fear, and then she burst out laughing.

  ‘What are you trying to do, England? Get my license revoked for bad teaching?’ he laughed. ‘Right, get up. You’re trouble. I’m taking the board back and we’re going to eat.’

  ‘Aha. My tactics worked. I had it handled all along. I just wanted the wine.’

  She scolded herself internally. This guy was impossible not to flirt with. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt so at ease with a man. But he was off limits and she needed to take it down a notch.

  ‘I know the most fantastic steak restaurant not far from here,’ Kyle said. ‘Amazing wine, ironed tablecloths, people eat with their knives and forks. Really quite fancy for these parts,’ he winked, grinning.

  Suddenly feeling things were escalating a bit too much into a formal date, Abbie replied, ‘You know what? I’d really like a dirty pizza. Can we do that?’

  He didn’t seem upset as he agreed, and she took that to mean she’d been worrying unnecessarily and she should stop flattering herself that a guy as hot as Kyle would even look at her that way. He was just intrigued because she was foreign and new.

  Thirty minutes later they were sitting at an outside picnic table, snow boots and boards long discarded, eating huge slices of pepperoni pizza off of cardboard plates and drinking beer straight out of the bottles.

  ‘Most girls would have wanted the tablecloths and the knives and forks, you know,’ he said in that teasing voice of his.

  ‘Yeah well, most girls hadn’t nearly wiped out half a school and needed some comfort food,’ she quipped and he responded to her with his rich laugh.

  He collected their empties and went to dispose of them while Abbie stood up.

  ‘Are you ready to go home?’ he asked.

  ‘Yeah, that’s a good idea. It’s getting late and it’s back to the grindstone in the morning.’

  As they headed towards the car, she thought how much more confident American men seemed compared to men from home. Kyle didn’t seem to have a doubt about him. The way he walked, the way he held himself, the way he talked. He was completely comfortable in himself. She could take some lessons from that.

  When they arrived back at her apartment, she turned to him as she unbuckled her seatbelt.

  ‘Thanks for today. I really did enjoy it and I’m grateful you took time on your day off to show me around.’

  ‘You’re more than welcome, and believe me, I’ve got more on the list. Don’t think you’re getting away with it.’

  ‘See you tomorrow,’ she grinned as she jumped down out of the beast of the pickup.

  Heading towards her front door she couldn’t help but be filled with reflections of him and their day. She knew she shouldn’t be entertaining the idea, but she wasn’t so unaware as to be able to completely ignore the frisson of electricity between them. But then she had to remember Kitty’s warnings; he was flirtatious with a lot of people and she was fresh meat in town.

  She tried to shake off the wave of conflicting thoughts as she headed into her apartment. She knew what she needed more than hours of overthinking; a hot bath.

  CHAPTER 11

  Two nights later Abbie sat at one of the scuffed-up tables in The Live Joint across from Rose, two Bud Lights on the table in front of them. Rose had told her even though it sounded lame to hang out at your workplace when you didn’t need to be there, she had enjoyed going there before she was hired and she still liked to go there and listen to the music – live or their playlists – when she felt like going out drinking.

  Abbie completely understood why. This bar was welcoming. One of those places that felt like home the minute you walked in. And not a cheesy pop song to be heard within those walls.

  She was enjoying listening to Rose tell her story with the background noise of the jukebox playing seventies rock.

  ‘I was always the one who couldn’t wait to get out of school to go and hang out at the venues that had bands playing. I’d pretend I was a bit older to see if I could catch the eye of a cute bassist here or there but, looking back, I must have looked fourteen. I never had a chance with any of those boys.’ She laughed, taking a swig from the blue-labelled bottle of beer. ‘I was smoking weed when it was still reserved for weirdos and loners, before it was Californian and cool to do it.’

  She’d told Abbie earlier that she was brought up by her mother, who worked shifts as a nurse. Her dad had walked out one day when she was three and never came back.

  ‘Eventually my mom told me if I didn’t get my act together, I was going to fail high school, and if that happened, I was on my own. The thought terrified me so I stopped the smoking and tried to get interested in something. I started writing music reviews for the school paper and that was pretty cool. That, and being petrified of my mom, got me to graduation. Then I worked in a music store for a few years until that closed down because everyone’s downloading now. Two years ago, I got a job here at the bar and the rest is history.’

  ‘It sounds like you’re doing pretty well to me. Not many people actually like their job, but you’re great with people and you get to see all this music every night for free.’ Abbie smiled at her new friend.

  ‘Yeah, I can’t say I have any complaints really,’ Rose said. ‘What’s your story? How did a nice girl like you end up wanting to walk in a place like this?’

 
Abbie laughed. ‘I used to work in music PR before I was in football. My dad was a music producer so he gave me a love of bands. But then working in the industry, I started to get jaded and wasn’t enjoying having to go to gigs all the time, so I decided it was better to keep the music as a hobby and try something different. That’s how I ended up in football. I was at a football club in London for four years before I came here. And that’s it in a nutshell,’ she finished.

  ‘I think that’s badass,’ Rose said as she got up and headed back to the bar. She returned a couple of minutes later with two more beers and put one in front of Abbie. ‘I’ve not really left Salt Lake City. A couple of trips here or there with friends to see music mainly. It’s pretty brave of you to move to the other side of the world.’

  Abbie contemplated for a moment. ‘Yeah, I guess so. But I needed a change of scenery. Something completely new.’

  ‘Man trouble?’ Rose’s face gave off a look of understanding.

  ‘Kind of yes and no. I was done with my job and I was looking for something new and this opportunity came up. Then I found out my ex-husband was having a baby with his new wife. It hit a few old nerves, so I decided I needed to get my arse in gear and my head together, and properly move onward and upward. And here I am,’ she said, shrugging her shoulders and grinning.

  It didn’t feel like a sad conversation anymore. Just factual. This was progress. She took a swig from her bottle and mentally punched the air.

  Rose then told her that she’d found her bassist after all. She was twenty-five, having a drink after a gig at The Live Joint with some friends, and suddenly felt a drink spill all over her, soaking through her t-shirt and jeans.

  ‘I turned around to yell and found myself looking straight at the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. You’re surprised, right? I couldn’t have been more surprised myself – I’d never felt anything for a girl before.’ She laughed, looking at Abbie’s face.

  Abbie hadn’t been expecting that after the confession earlier that she was fully in training to be a groupie as a teenager. ‘Tell me more,’ she urged, resting her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand.

  ‘This girl. She was so apologetic, but I forgot I was soaked with beer when I started talking to her. She just had this soul, this aura, I was hooked straight away. She looked like Zoe Kravitz. Beautifully full lips, long black hair in tight braids and these crazy green eyes that I got lost in. I could see she had some tattoos on her arm so I asked her about them, just desperately trying to find a way to keep her talking.’ She blushed. ‘Turned out she played bass in a band who were touring and they had a gig at The Saltair, which is a cool venue over by the lake. We’ll go there sometime. That was three years ago and we’re still going strong. Probably because we don’t see each other every day. Stella’s still in the band touring around, and when she’s not touring, she comes here and lives with me. It works for us,’ she finished, shrugging. ‘What about you? You must have had guys all over you since you got here, digging that British accent?’ She giggled.

  Abbie decided to get it off her chest. She still hadn’t been able to get hold of Violet by text or phone to talk it through with her.

  Peeling at the label of the beer bottle, she began explaining everything. ‘Since my divorce I’ve been a bit useless, to be honest. Didn’t want to go out much. Definitely didn’t want to meet another man. I never really found out why Josh ended things so I think I was in this no man’s land. You know how us females are – we like answers, but I never got them.’

  ‘You’re preaching to the converted, sister.’ Rose sighed. ‘I still don’t get how a guy can think they can date you, sleep in your bed, be your best friend for six months or two years or five then just fuck off without so much as a goodbye. Every single one of my friends has a story.’

  ‘I think we’re just wired differently.’ Abbie considered it. ‘We like to talk, they like to… run a million miles away at the slightest whiff of a problem. Sometimes problems we don’t even know exist.’

  They both laughed.

  ‘Sorry, that’s a sweeping generalisation, but I’m the same, Rose. So many friends of mine have stories like that. Gahhhh. Anyway, coming here, things have shifted. I’m feeling good, I’m having fun, I’m loving work. And I think I’ve sort of met a guy.’

  Rose lifted her hand for a high five. Abbie met the gesture, but told her to slow down.

  ‘I know I’m hesitating a bit because of Josh. But it’s not really holding me back that much anymore because I feel a million miles from all that here. The real problem is that I’ve already been told by a friend of mine at work that he’s a real player and a heartbreaker, and I think it’s idiotic to walk with my eyes wide open into a situation where I know I’m going to get hurt. Why would I want to do that to myself?’ Looking down, she realised she had peeled off the entire label of the bottle in front of her. She knew there was some meaning behind that.

  Rose sat quietly for a minute, thinking it over.

  ‘Well, look. There’re two things here. First of all, okay, I get it, you don’t want to get shit on all over again. But you don’t know for sure he’s like that and, who knows, you could be the one to change him. All that British charm and poise.’

  Abbie gave her a faux side-eye. ‘The weird thing is that he seems like such a genuine, stand-up guy. He took me for a snowboarding lesson at the weekend up to Park City and we had the best time. And he was a perfect gentleman, he didn’t try anything on.’

  ‘Exactly. Give him a chance. And here’s the second thing. You could always just have your wicked way and treat it like some fun and don’t get all emotional about it. That way you can’t get hurt if you’re the one calling the shots.’

  ‘As good as that sounds, we work together. Oh yeah, that’s the next issue. They always say you shouldn’t mix business with pleasure.’

  ‘Is he hot?’

  ‘Stupidly.’

  ‘So, what if the pleasure is totally worth it?’

  They collapsed with laughter and Abbie said she’d get the next round.

  Returning with a bottle of Argentinian red wine a few minutes later, Abbie plonked down the bottle and two sturdy glasses. The Live Joint didn’t do delicate glassware.

  ‘I thought it looked like we were making a night of it and getting a bottle means fewer trips to the bar.’

  ‘But more trips to the bathroom.’ Rose winked as she got up and headed towards the back of the bar.

  When Rose returned, Abbie was reading through a copy of the local newspaper.

  ‘These music reviews are crap. It has to be a joke. Listen to this, Rose. I was invited to watch The Temperamentals at Saltair. It was a pretty cold night so that was the first problem. Then I didn’t think the band were great. I didn’t know any of the songs and it wasn’t my kind of style. It was a bit too much rock and I prefer pop. Is this for real?’ She stabbed her finger violently at the page.

  ‘Oh yeah, that column is renowned. They’ve got some kid writing it for free. It’s comedy gold a lot of the time. One time he said he left a Kings of Leon concert early because his ears were ringing from the volume.’

  ‘So, if you really want to read up about what bands are gigging around here and coming here on tour, and then proper reviews, where do you go? Surely some people are actually interested and are as horrified at me at this shit?’

  Rose pondered the thought. ‘I guess there isn’t anything. Which is weird as there’s a good music scene here, but not many people know that. There’s a bunch of live venues, all fairly small but still there, and you have to know where to go to listen to the stuff you like. There’re rock places, Indie, blues, garage, a bit of country. And it’s all Salt Lake City style; you have to listen to get it, we have our own thing going on here. Then we have big artists coming through when they’re on national tours, obviously.’ Abbie loved how animated Rose was talking about it. ‘Some of the outdoor places are so fun in the summer. We can see a lot of bands this year if you want. I always
pretty much know who’s passing through because of this place.’

  Abbie was struck with an idea and, without even hesitating to think a bit more, blurted it out.

  ‘Why don’t we start a music review blog for the area? We could preview bands heading here, and do reviews. If you used to write for the school paper you know what you’re doing, and I did this kind of thing back in my music PR days.’ Saying it out loud, she surprised herself with how excited she was at the prospect.

  ‘You know, I think you could be onto something.’ Rose’s eyes lit up.

  ‘It would be a hobby rather than a job, so if we didn’t fancy doing something one night, we’d just give it a miss. But it could be really cool. It would probably mean we could wangle free entry to everything as well.’

  Running away from the table, Rose picked up a stack of cardboard beer mats from the bar, then took her chair opposite Abbie and rooted around in her bag until she drew out a brown eyeliner.

  ‘I haven’t been this excited about something in a long time, Abbie. Let’s get going. Most important thing first. What do we call ourselves?’ She was literally bouncing in her seat and Abbie felt herself getting more and more enthusiastic by the second.

  ‘Ooh, something linked to the city and a music term? Like… The SLC Beat?’ Swigging from her wine glass, Abbie felt the cogs turning. The Salt Lake Review?’ Rose nodded as Abbie spoke, scribbling the options down on the beer mat with her eye pencil.

  ‘The Salt Scene?’ Rose suggested.

  ‘That’s the one. The Salt Scene.’ Abbie reached out to high five Rose and then they clinked glasses and both took a glug.

  Rose ran back to the bar, this time going behind it, and returned not a minute later with two shot glasses of tequila, two lemon wedges and a salt shaker.

  ‘It feels like we need to celebrate. And what better way to toast The Salt Scene than with a salty beverage.’ Rose reached across the table, grabbed Abbie’s hand and shook the salt onto the back of it before handing her a wedge of lemon.

 

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