If Only

by Yvonne Beattie

  “Umm, Maggie said her and Bill are spending the evening together. So, I think the plan for us, is to go to Paula’s parents bar again, you know the bar we went to on our first night?” I reply.

  “Yeah, but what time?” Joel asks.

  “I’m not sure,” I reply, instinctively looking at my watch to see the current time.

  “It’s just that my mates sent a message when we were skiing saying they are going out again tonight if I’d like to join them. I wouldn’t leave you on your own, but if you plan on spending the evening with Marty, would that be cool with you?” he asks.

  “Of course, I don’t mind. Why don’t we just arrange to meet at the bar before the bells?” I suggest, quite happy it’s looking like I’ll get Marty to myself for the evening.

  “Great, I thought you’d say that,” he says turning into our street and looking quite happy with himself. “I won’t see the guys again for a while as I’ve no idea when I’ll manage to come back up here.”

  As we gather our stuff out of the boot, Joel notices there is a note stuck on the chalet door.

  “It’s for you, from lover boy,” he says flicking it in his fingers.

  I clamber up the stairs and go to take it from him, but he raises his arm higher each time so I can’t reach it. It had escaped me that Marty had the day off because as usual, he was up and away before I had woken up.

  “Funny boy, give it here,” I glare at him, not amused in the slightest.

  “Ooh, temper, temper,” he says, even more annoyingly.

  “Just hand it over, Joel,” I’m not sure why, but I’m worried about what it might say.

  He hands it over and goes inside. I drop all our outdoor things on the snow covered ground and quickly open the note needing to know what it says.

  Rachel,

  Be ready for 7pm, I’ll pick you up.

  Be hungry!

  Marty x

  I somewhat relax, and shove the note into my pocket. I pick everything up off the ground again and head indoors feeling much happier.

  After I’d showered and done my make-up, I decided to pack all my things to save me time in the morning. We got a call yesterday from the letting agent to remind us that check-out of the chalet is at 10am, and because it will be New Year’s Day, things have a tight turn around with maids, and new holiday makers are arriving at 2pm. So otherwise, we are out on our ear come 10am.

  I feel incredibly sad to think that we will be heading home in approximately twenty-four hours, and I have no idea what will happen with Marty and I. I’m sure we will keep in touch, but we’ve grown incredibly close in such a short time, it kills me to think that tonight might be it.

  I wheel my biggest case through to the living room to leave it there and give myself a bit more space in my bedroom. I can’t help but smile at the fact that Joel has already done the same thing. Great minds think alike. He took the other bedroom after Bex and Simon had left.

  “That’s me ready to head on out, Rach,” Joel walks through looking rather dapper in dark jeans and a light blue shirt that makes his green eyes pop.

  “Wow, you look great, Joel,” I tell him giving him the once over.

  He does a twirl that makes me giggle, “Why, thank you! You look pretty spiffing yourself, my lady,” he says also giving me the once over.

  I decided to wear the only dress I brought up with me. It’s relatively short without being slutty, figure hugging navy lace, with sheer sleeves, and a decent neckline that perfectly enhances my average bosom. My brown hair is long and loose and after a week of skiing, I feel that I’m looking pretty good. I feel glowing and confident for a change.

  Joel gives me a hug and agrees to meet me before midnight at the bar. He’s also told me he isn’t going to drink much as he wants to be ok for driving home tomorrow. I’m not sure how much of that I believe, but we shall wait and see. I can always drive his car if need be.

  I potter about the chalet, tidying anything up that will save us more time in the morning and when seven o’clock comes and goes, I start to get a bit worried. I double check Marty’s note, he definitely wrote ‘7pm’ on it, so he’s obviously just been held up. To date, he’s never been late.

  When eight o’clock comes and goes, I am erring on the frantic side, just as there is a loud knock at the door.

  I literally run to the door and fling it open. Marty is standing on the doorstep looking uncharacteristically happy.

  “Marty?” I feel the excitement inside me slipping away as he stands and looks me up and down, slightly swaying.

  “You look amazing,” he slurs with his hands in his pockets.

  “Are you drunk, Marty?” I ask him dumbfounded. We’ve had drinks on and off throughout the week, but I’ve never seen him even remotely drunk. He told me he doesn’t drink much, and he’s stayed true to that all week.

  “I just had a few pints with the guys in town. I’m ok though,” he says as he stumbles slightly to lean his shoulder on the doorway.

  “I don’t believe this, Marty. It’s my last night up here. We had plans…” I take a small step back from the door as the wind blows and makes me shiver.

  “It’s fine, I’m fine,” he slurs happily. “Come on, we’ll go into town and get something to eat, and I’ll be right as rain.”

  I am now shivering profusely, not with the cold wind blowing freely into the chalet, but with anger. Why would he do this to me on my last night? He’s ruined everything.

  I manage to keep my mouth shut and refrain from falling out with him. I quickly put on my thick jacket and walking boots, and pop my shoes into a bag to change into when we get into town. I hadn’t anticipated walking into town, but apparently I’ve no choice now.

  As we finally get into town, Marty has definitely sobered up some and we get some dinner at a Mexican restaurant. We had to wait a while for a table, as someone hadn’t booked it as planned, but we got one. Marty has stuck to water and it’s been fine, even though my mood isn’t exactly as it was. The conversation has been slightly stilted, but there is no going back now.

  After dinner, it is close to ten o’clock so we head over to the bar. I’m surprised to see Joel is already there and he appears to have met Paul and Paula. He must have introduced himself because to my knowledge, he hasn’t met them before. They are all laughing and joking and apparently having a great time, which sort of adds to the tension of my evening. This is how our evening should have gone too.

  “You want a drink?” Marty asks me.

  “Just a glass of wine, please,” I answer him distantly and head over to Joel.

  “Hey!” Joel puts his arm around me in greeting. “How was the big date then?”

  I smile and tell him it was nice, but I think he picks up that there is something wrong.

  “Here you go,” Marty hands me a glass of wine and sips from his own pint.

  He seems sober now, but is definitely not acting like himself tonight, or the Marty that I know, at least. He’s usually extremely tactile and friendly, but tonight, I feel like I barely know him. He’s standoffish, and even with the guys here, he seems to be in a world of his own.

  I notice Paul saying something to him, they both look quite stoic and Marty lays his barely touched pint on the table, folding his arms and agreeing with a serious expression at whatever Paul is saying.

  I decide to ignore whatever is going on, it doesn’t appear to be any of my business, and try to make the most of the last night of my holiday, aiming to bring in the New Year on a happy note.

  I gulp my glass of wine down for some Dutch courage and feel my growing urge to play the piano. It’s been nearly two weeks and I’ve missed it. I noticed it on stage the other night, but it was left untouched as the band had a keyboard player.

  “Alright if I have a tinkle on the ivories?” I smile eagerly asking Paula’s dad as he hands a tray of drinks to Paul.

  “It’s all yours! Mind, if you’re rubbish, the locals have the authority to chuck you out,” he laughs.

&
nbsp; “No problem,” I meet his eye with a grin. “I think I’ve got this covered.”

  With that said, I leave the group unnoticed and head to the piano. I use the silencer for a moment so most of the people in the bar don’t hear me until I get the feel of the keys and warm up my fingers, then I let my head take over.

  I start with a goodie that is one of my favourites, it’s Sunday, half the town have been skiing, so it’s Pop Looks Bach, or maybe better known as Ski Sunday because of the television show. My fingers fly over the keys, as I know it so well. I play it in double octaves giving it a deeper, more powerful sound. As it comes to an end, I move onto the ragtime favourite, Joplin’s, The Entertainer, and am oblivious to what is going on in the bar.

  After I’ve played another few songs and notice that I’ve got a bit of an audience going, I see Marty in my peripheral vision coming over to me. He walks right over to the piano and motions for me to move down the stool so he can slide in beside me.

  “Silly question I’m sure, do you know chopsticks?” he asks.

  I beam at him, “Of course!”

  I finish the piece I’m playing and then look at him. I’ve no idea if he can do anything other than the basics, but he once again, takes the breath from me. His fingers touch the keys and he can play beautifully, he motions for me to take the base but I’m truly taken aback that he can play. He never said before when I told him I teach the piano.

  He nudges me with his elbow and I realise he has done the intro twice, waiting for me, and we start our duet, having more fun than I could ever have anticipated with a piano. We even switch parts, playing over and under each other and finish with a huge round of applause as we both sit back, take a breather and then hug one another.

  Just as we pull apart, someone behind the bar is tapping a glass with a knife, grabbing everyone’s attention.

  “It’s almost the bells, first drink of the New Year is on us! Make it one to remember! Ten, nine, eight…”

  I turn to look at Marty to find him looking earnestly and sadly at me, I stroke his chin and he kisses the palm of my hand, leaning into it.

  “…four, three, two, one. Happy New Year!”

  I don’t care what is going on around us, I’m in Marty’s arms and he is kissing me like there is no tomorrow.

  Chapter 28

  Once we have wished everyone a happy new year, the bar is back in full swing. Spirits are high, drinks are flowing, the atmosphere is one of excitement and cheer. I notice that Marty hasn’t drunk anymore and is chatting to another band member with a bottle of water in his hand. Joel seems to have stayed true to his word and looks to be drinking juice, which I can’t help but take a double look at. I’ve had a couple glasses of wine, but I’m enjoying the feeling in the bar, chatting with Paula and her mum, and more than anything, the peaceful feeling I have up here in Aviemore. I’m not looking forward to going home at all, but I know in just a few short hours, I’ll be back in my little house, to my little but busy life, all on my own.

  “Oh, great,” I turn to see Paula looking agitatedly at the door of the bar.

  A man has just walked in with a girl but they still have their hoods up and I can’t see their faces.

  “What’s up?” I ask her while watching them shake off some snow from their jackets.

  “That’s Justin,” she replies, offering no more, and not taking her eyes off the couple.

  “About to be just-out,” Paul says overhearing Paula, and barging past everyone to go over to them.

  I frown trying to figure out what is going on, and watch as Paul motions back to the door for them to leave. The guy turns around and I recognise his face, but I can’t think how. I watch him for a moment trying to figure out how or why I would know him, or where I’ve seen him before, then the girl turns around and I recognise her as Izzy, the beautician that did my nails for me. I glance quickly down at my hands and my still pretty amazingly un-chipped nails.

  As I look back over at the door, I see the guy getting angry with Paul, but Paul is not backing down and appears to be shouting at them to get out. I can’t hear them because of the music and general bar noise. Izzy is looking on in dismay, she appears to be completely embarrassed and seems quite ready to go.

  “Why is Paul telling them to leave?” I ask Paula, and I notice she is now looking over in Marty’s direction.

  I follow her gaze and notice that Marty is standing with a worried expression on his face, he appears to be frozen to the spot, and is watching the commotion at the door.

  “Paula?” I nudge her slightly to grab her attention and she half turns back to me but shifts her attention to Paul who now has Justin and Izzy walking through the door, back outside.

  “Umm,” Paula glances back at me uneasily.

  “What is it?” I ask her again, starting to feel slightly frantic. I have no idea what is going on but I really wish someone would tell me.

  “Look, I’m really sorry, but you need to speak to Marty on this one, ok?” she says looking guiltily at me. “I’m just going to check on Kade,” she says and turns quickly to walk through to the back of the bar, where I know her mum is looking after him.

  Paul has appeared back inside and is now standing speaking animatedly into Marty’s ear and Marty is agreeing with whatever he is saying and rubbing his forehead like he’s got a headache.

  I’m not sure whether to go over to them, leave them to it, or what? Eventually, I locate Joel who appears to be in a deep conversation with Paula’s dad, and motion to him that I’m ready to head back to the chalet. He tells me that is fine with him by giving me the thumbs up and silently tells me to wait two minutes for him. So, I grab my jacket and boots to change back into for walking back. Just as I’m zipping my jacket up, Marty appears by my side.

  “You ok?” he says to me looking at my jacket.

  “I could ask you the same thing,” I look up and into his eyes and see nothing but sadness there.

  He rubs his forehead again, like I saw him do only a moment ago.

  “I really don’t want to get into it,” he says. “It’s a very long story, and one you really don’t need to burden yourself with,” he tells me, like that’s an explanation.

  “Shouldn’t that be up to me?” I ask starting to shake involuntarily. I have no idea what is going on, everyone else seems to know apart from me, and I don’t know what the big secret could possibly be.

  “I didn’t anticipate spending all this time with you, Rachel. Meeting you even,” he looks at me again, guiltily. “I thought it would just be a bit of fun. I mean, I like you, I like you a lot, but you don’t need any of this. I think it’s best if we just call it quits now.”

  I stare at him in shock, not quite sure if I heard him right.

  “I know Joel will get you home ok, and I thank you for spending so much of your holiday with me and the family. It really has been fun,” he says taking my hand in his and looking gratefully at me.

  I can’t even move.

  I’m literally standing, somehow my legs haven’t gone from beneath me, and I’m completely at a loss for words.

  Joel comes over to us, oblivious, “You ready to go?” he asks while zipping up his jacket. “Oh…” he looks at us each in turn, “Did I just walk in on a ‘moment’,” he sniggers, but then stops as he realises neither of us are biting.

  “Let’s go,” I find some words, and walk past Marty, grabbing my hand back from him as I go, and heading straight for the door. The snow is blowing a blizzard again and I walk head first into it, not stopping to pull my hood up, not caring about the bitter wind. I need to get back to the chalet. Now.

  Joel shadowed me the whole way back, I could hear him gibbering behind me, but I couldn’t stop. Upon getting back to the chalet, I can’t find my key. I drop to my knees as I search my handbag, my duffel bag I put my shoes in, and my jacket pockets. It is no-where.

  “Here,” Joel steps around me and opens the door with his key. I forgot he has the key that Bex had given him when they
left.

  I pull myself back up, grabbing my bags and head straight for my room. Joel shouts after me asking if I’m ok, but seems to decide I’m better off left alone.

  I drop my jacket on the floor, step out of my wet boots, and crawl into my bed, in my dress. My hair is soaking, I’m shivering with rage, and I close my eyes, willing a new day to come and for tonight to be a nightmare and simply not true.

  In the morning, I am woken to the sound of the snow-plough passing outside. It’s the first morning I’ve woken up on my own all week. The evening’s events flood my memory and I feel my head banging with the strain and stress of it all. I didn’t expect this, I’m sure Marty has his reasons, I’m really sure he does, but he didn’t need to do this. Not like this. A simple explanation of whatever is going on, could have made things so very different.

  I force myself into the shower, get dressed and shove the remainder of my things into my bag, making sure I’ve left nothing behind. I then go through the house and sit in the living room to wait for Joel. I try desperately not to think about the last two weeks, they have been amazing, but unfortunately, nearly every memory includes Marty.

  Who was it that said, ‘all good things must come to an end’? They should be hung, drawn and quartered.

  Joel eventually rises about an hour after I came through to sit and wait for him. I hear him moving around, the shower go on and off, and eventually he comes through with a small bag, wet hair, and a confused expression on his face.

  “Morning,” he says tentatively.

  “Morning,” I reply.

  “How are you?” He asks.

  “Fine. You?” I am not in the mood for small talk.

  He pauses, “Good, I think.”

  I watch as he runs his hand through his wet hair.

  “You want to tell me what happened last night?” he asks taking a biscuit from the kitchen counter top, the only remaining food in the chalet.

  “Nope,” I put an end to that possible conversation.

  “O-K,” he says with expressive eyes and turns around to skim the living room.

  “Ready to go?” I ask him.