“Right, on that note, we will see you later. Much later,” he adds taking my hand and pulling me quickly through to the elevator to go back down to the lower level to get onto the funicular railway again.
“I am so sorry about that,” Marty says, putting his hands behind his back and leaning against the elevator wall looking thoroughly peeved.
“There’s no need at all to be sorry, Marty. Your mum is great, and Maggie, well, what can I say? She’s brilliant to the core!” I smile still thinking about some of her stories.
“Really?” He asks me looking unsure.
“Of course! Why are you being so cynical and down on them?” I hate how he is being so critical, but start to wonder if it is because of me.
“Because they’ve ruined my chances more often than once with girls,” he sighs.
“Oh, right. So, you make a habit of picking up girls then?” I ask slightly annoyed.
“No, no, I don’t mean it like that. They’ve both, obviously, been around my whole life, they love to embarrass me. It’s a big hobby of theirs. I bet they put a wager on us to see if they could scare you off,” he rolls his eyes.
“Don’t be so stupid,” I shake my head at him.
“Seriously. You don’t know them properly. They are funny, yeah, but they seriously take the piss,” he raises his eyebrows.
“Well, learn to give as good as you get Smarty Marty,” I advise him. “It’s the only way.”
The elevator pings and I walk out first and head towards the railway.
“You know, I think you might be the first girl in a very long time to actually be fit for the pair of them,” he comes to stand close by my side.
I smile, “I really enjoyed that, Marty. Honestly.”
I can feel the small smile bursting to get out of him, but for some reason, he keeps it under wraps and stays silent for a while.
We sit on the train also mostly in silence as it makes its decent down the mountain. It’s looking a bit dreary out as we make our way through some clouds closing in and it has started drizzling with rain. I glance over at Marty and watch him looking out of the window. I have no idea what he is thinking, but he appears to be mesmerized by the scenery as we easily slide past it.
I quickly pull my phone out to check if any of the others have been in touch and see that Bex sent a message a while ago to say that her and Simon are in Inverness and have decided to stay overnight. She hopes Joel and I don’t mind. I personally really don’t mind at all, but it might have been nicer of them to say what their plans were last night.
Just as I go to tuck my phone back into my bag, a message from Joel pops up, ‘Hey, where are you?’
Amazing, on the high street I can’t get a signal, but half way down the mountain, I can?
I pull my jacket sleeve up to free my hand and reply, ‘I came up the mountain on the funicular railway with Marty. We are on our way back into town now. Where are you? I dropped your car back earlier after swimming but you were gone.’
‘Sorry, I did leave a note, but just realised I left it in my art pad! Oops! Will you be cool on your own tonight? I met up with some old uni mates that live up here this afternoon and they’ve asked me to go for a curry and a beer with them. You’re welcome to come along too?’
I turn and look at Marty who is still intent on the blurred scenery, we are almost back to base now. I’m not sure what his plans are for this evening, but either way, I’m happy with some time away from the guys, ‘Of course, go and enjoy yourself. I’ll see you in the morning.’
‘OK, thanks. Who is Marty by the way?’ I smile as I read his reply.
‘…the Ogler!!!’ I hit reply and tuck my phone quickly away so that Marty doesn’t see my response.
The train comes to a gentle halt and Marty takes my hand as we head across the car park.
“Don’t suppose you would still fancy a drink in town?” he looks at me almost earnestly, and feeling slightly buzzed from the fizz we had up the mountain, I am more than happy to continue onto somewhere else. I am on holiday, after all.
“I’d love to,” I grin happily over at him.
“Cool, let’s go. I’m good to drive as I only had a half lager tops,” he says and squeezes my hand gently.
Chapter 11
“Marty! Marty! Marty!”
The crowd at the local bar chant as Marty slowly makes his way to the elevated, makeshift stage they’ve set up for karaoke night. I watch, intrigued, as he swaggers up confidentially and inwardly sigh at how good he looks up there. I look at the crowded bar and clock a few girls dramatically drooling over him. It would appear that Marty is quite the man around these parts. As he speaks to the guy in charge of the backing music, I lean back in my chair and sip my drink. We’ve had a really fun day and I’ll be damned if I want it to end.
I attentively pull myself to sit up straighter as I hear the well-overplayed tune to Mariah Carey’s hit “All I Want For Christmas Is You.” Marty catches my eye through the crowded bar, gives me a wave and blows me a kiss, to which I slightly lower myself back into my chair as I feel people turn to gawp at me.
Then, God help my poor ears, he starts singing.
Well, technically squawking, he’s reading the words to the song as they appear on the karaoke machine, singing would be to big of a compliment. Marty, it would appear, is actually tone deaf. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard in my life.
The crowd is going wild and I cannot for the life of me fathom why. It’s been several minutes of downright ear agony. I’m struggling to keep my jaw off the floor, and actually find myself wondering whether I could be with someone that is tone deaf, given my chosen career. Speak about a turn off. I knew it was too good to be true. I feel completely crestfallen after such a fantastic day, I totally saw this becoming an amazing holiday romance, something to snap me out of everything that’s been going on at home. I’ve clearly been reading too many smutty novels. I carry on watching him in utter denial as Marty takes an a capriccio approach to the second verse of the song.
Bookshots, that’s the way ahead for the rest of my trip. No more silly mind-boggling idyllic romance. Or, better still, maybe a jelly shot would suffice for the moment. It may easy the agony quicker.
The song tardily comes to an end and Marty screeches to a thankful but earsplitting crescendo. The crowd gathered around the small stage is still going nuts, and I can’t help the deep-seated frown that has adorned my forehead.
I watch as Marty jumps down from the stage like he’s done it a million times before, and is handed a bottle of water from someone. He glugs it down and I see him laughing as the guy pats him on the back good-humouredly. I wonder what he said to him. He then makes his way back to me.
“So, fancy giving the karaoke a whirl?” he smiles at me as he scrapes his chair in closer to the table.
“Nah, I think I’ll pass,” I harrumph, struggling for words after that performance.
He laughs, “What did you think of my performance?”
I look at him still unable to shift my frown, but not wanting to be rude, “Umm… it really was… very interesting?”
He laughs again and I feel like I’m missing something. I still don’t see the funny side of any of it.
“It was just a bit of fun. Look, here’s Edgy Eddie going up next, he is brilliant,” he points at the stage.
I follow his finger and see a middle aged man waddle up onto the stage. I swear he could be carrying triplets going on the oversized football that looks to be tucked up underneath his shirt. At that point, I make my excuse and head to the ladies to freshen up.
As I wash my hands and glimpse at my reflection in the mirror, I realise just how awful I look and wonder why the hell Marty is voluntarily being seen with me. I never did fix my hair or make-up after swimming. After we left Marty’s mum and Maggie, we came into town for a few drinks and then had dinner at The Cairngorm Hotel. Their veal stroganoff was so good I nearly ate my plate, never mind licking it. Marty then took me to this bar w
hich is just a short walk away, not far from the other bar I went to with the three stooges the other night.
I splash some water onto my face and take a moment to look at myself properly. Marty is great fun, he is easy to be around so it seems, and why should I care that he isn’t musical? It’s not like he will be working with me. I may not even ever see him again. Who am I kidding? I guess in the back of my mind, my perfect man would be someone who could strum the guitar and sing in perfect harmony with me, all on top of being gorgeous, nice, loving, and of course, hung like a … well, never mind. I give my reflection a cheeky glint. What are the chances of that ever happening, in real life? Opposites attract. Everyone knows that.
I line my lips with lip liner and colour them in with a soft plum gloss, practicing my pout. I’m wearing a tank top underneath an oversized sheer sweater, so I pull the neck to the side and off my shoulder making it a bit more sexy looking than it was before. I take off the light scarf I am wearing and tie it fashionably around my wrist, and I retie my hair into a high ponytail. I’m on holiday to have fun, and minus the last twenty minutes, I’ve been doing exactly that. I need to lose this chip on my shoulder and pull it together.
I push the heavy toilet door open and squeeze past a couple of girls in the corridor, as I round the corner back into the bar I find Marty standing leaning against the wall checking his phone. He looks thoroughly edible.
“Hey,” I try to use my sexy walk that I save for special occasions, albeit heels might’ve worked better than walking boots.
He looks up and gives me the once over, “Hey, yourself,” he says as he pushes his phone back into his jeans pocket.
As I walk up to him he pulls me close and kisses me softly on the lips, gently caressing my waist as he does so every time we’ve been close. I feel myself melt into him as the last part of the evening completely evaporates from my mind. It feels like we’ve been together for months, not on our third kiss. His bulk is overwhelming as I stretch on tiptoes so he doesn’t have to lean down so far and I grip onto his torso, enjoying the feel of his hard abs, for the second time.
He pulls back, kissing me on the nose.
“I really enjoyed today,” he says as he pulls me tighter still against him.
“Hmm, me too,” I smile up at him wanting him to close the distance between us again.
“I need to head out now, I’ve had enough to drink and it looks like I’ll probably be working tomorrow. I’m sorry,” he says as he pulls my ponytail gently, wrapping it around his hand.
I instantly feel disappointed, but I hope I’ll see him again soon.
“That’s fine, I should probably head back now too,” I shrug but still hold onto him, enjoying his close proximity.
He leans down and kisses me again, harder, but it feels like more of a ‘cheers then, see you later’, rather than a ‘I’m horny and I want you, come hither’.
“Come on then, lets grab our jackets and I’ll walk you back to your chalet,” he pulls me along the corridor and back into the bar which is still seething.
A woman is currently slurring along to a karaoke song I don’t recognise, although that could be her singing and not the song. I’ve no idea. At least she seems to know what she is doing. I grin over at her and slip my jacket on, zipping it up in preparation before heading back out into the cold again.
Marty takes my hand to guide me through the throng of people, it seems everyone is in the festive mood and is out to party.
“Rachel!”
I turn as I faintly hear my name but can’t see anyone I know and wonder if I imagined it. I pull Marty back slightly and he struggles to turn amongst the elbows and bodies chattering and swaying to the music.
“Wait up, I think someone shouted on me, but I’m not sure,” I shout to Marty but have no idea whether he heard me.
“Rach! Over here,” I turn towards the voice again which I now know I didn’t imagine, and am pretty sure it belongs to Joel. I then catch sight of him waving at me, “Stay there, I’m coming over.”
I wave back and indicate to Marty, he appears to know its Joel as he gives me the thumbs up.
As I turn back around, I feel panic set in as Joel picks me up and kisses me hard and fast on the mouth. It’s come from no where, and I am pretty sure he has seen Marty, I told him I was with him earlier and I start to fight to get him off of me. What the hell does he think he is playing at?
“Jo….el….ger….offff….,” it’s a real struggle as I’m no match for him.
As I finally manage to push him off, I am shocked to see him lying on the floor with a bloody nose. I instinctively rush over, but then see Marty standing over him, with a rounded fist, and other bar patrons standing back to watch. The karaoke singing has come to a halt.
“Uh…” I look at each of them as the backing music is turned down.
“Really Rachel?” Marty looks at me in disgust. “You’re with this guy? What the fuck?”
“No…” I am suddenly short of breath and really feel like I need to sit down.
“Get the fuck out of my way, asshole,” Joel whacks Marty’s arm away aggressively and gets back up on his feet while wiping his bloody nose on his shirt. He is more drunk than I have ever seen him and he can barely stand, let alone fight. I am thankful he doesn’t try to retaliate.
“Alright, alright folks. Party is over here, you three, OUT,” the presumed bar manager easily makes space as he throws us out and the innocent bystanders move out of our way. “This is a bar, not a boxing ring. Martin, I will speak to you in the morning and I want an apology,” and with that, the bar door is slammed in our faces.
I catch my breath but hold onto the wall outside of the bar for a moment. The wind is thick and fast and I quickly pull my hood up for some protection, I notice Marty doing the same.
Joel has sat down on the damp road curb, slumped over himself, cradling his jacket like it’s a baby.
“I need to get home, Rachel,” Marty looks at me through seething eyes.
“Marty, this is not, at all, what you think. Joel and I are not together. I don’t know why he just did that. Do you really think I’d spend the day with you if I was with him?” I ask him incredulously.
“I don’t care, Rachel,” he spits back at me and shoves his hands in his jacket pockets.
“Well I do, ok? I don’t put myself about like that, and I have no idea what the hell that was in there,” I point to the bar again, “But I’m being accused for something that clearly is a misunderstanding, and believe me, Joel and I will be having this out first thing tomorrow.”
“Do what you want, I don’t need this shit,” Marty shrugs and turns to walk away.
“Don’t you dare walk away from me, Marty,” I surprise myself with the sheer pitch and authority my voice has adopted. “You need to help me get him back to the chalet.”
“I don’t need to do anything, Rachel,” he throws back at me obtusely.
I roll my eyes impatiently, “Right. That’s just wonderful, Marty. What a great guy you really are. How the hell will I get him home? And aren’t you going to look just grand when everyone finds out tomorrow he died from hypothermia?”
Marty rolls his eyes back at me. I know he doesn’t owe me anything, well, aside from an apology, but I need some help and I know underneath this façade he is a decent bloke. I’ve seen that side to him all day, not this arrogant prick he is portraying just now.
“Fuck sake,” he groans and goes over to Joel. “OK, grab his other arm and I’ll hoist him up.”
I sigh with slight relief, “Thank you, Martin.” I give him a fake smile and grab Joel’s arm, “Joel, Joel…?”
He stirs and while he is mid-stir we heft him up to standing and he lolls onto Marty.
“Fucking dick,” Marty murmurs and I can’t help a small smile from meeting my lips. He’s sexy when he’s angry.
“Hmmfffttsssshit,” Joel replies incoherently.
“Just shut it, asshole. Let’s get you home,” Marty leans down and thr
ows Joel over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift.
I watch him as he starts down the road towards our chalet and feel instantly thankful as I have no idea how I would have shifted him. I pick up Joel’s jacket and run after Marty into the wind.
Chapter 12
“Joel? Jo-el? You need to wake up, right NOW,” I punch him hard on the arm and watch as he puts his hand out to stop me, pretty much in slow motion.
“St-op, Rach,” he grumbles incoherently.
“You need to sit up, I’ve made you a black coffee, not that you deserve it, and it’s sitting here for you with two paracetamol. You need to sober up, drink it and then we need to talk. Big time,” I sit on the armchair across from him feeling so pissed off I feel like my head is going to burst.
Marty left last night after basically throwing Joel onto the sofa, scowling at me and then wordlessly slamming the door on his way out, making it rattle on its hinges as he bolted. I fully understand he must be annoyed after Joel’s somewhat over the top greeting to me, but I feel his actions were completely off kilter and I’m not sure that I want to see him again. Well, that’s going on whether it’s a choice if he even wants to see me again.
A bad temper and tone deaf, he sure isn’t selling himself to me right now.
I then quickly backtrack my thoughts to the rest of yesterday and feel a rush of disappointment. Aside from these two things, one of which is really quite justified considering another man kissed me, he is quite perfect and I still really fancy him. I can’t believe my heart is betraying my head.
Joel groans and rolls onto his back, “What time is it?”
“Eight o’clock,” I answer him impatiently.
“Eh? In the morning? What the fuck, Rach?” Joel yawns and goes to curl back up again.
“Don’t you dare, ‘what the eff,’ at me, Joel. Do you remember what you did last night?” I edge forward onto the rim of my chair.
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