Good Enough

by PH Morris

  I swallowed and turned slightly to see Alistair standing close by, looking and smelling good enough to eat. Stop it, it’s work; it’s just work, work, work, work. Now all I could hear was Rihanna in my head.

  “Thank you, but there’s no need,” I commented, leaving the £10 floating in mid-air.

  He smiled a warm and heart-stopping smile, but ignored me and simply said, “A small beer for me, please,” and handed over his own £10. This guy was infuriating; it’s the 21st century, I can buy myself a drink, but my usual manners got the better of me and I just said thanks.

  He leant casually at the bar while the drinks were being poured. He looked entirely comfortable, but I found myself unable to look at him, and I glanced up to see Rosie staring back at me in the mirror and mouthing WOW. If he noticed, he didn’t say.

  Get a grip, Mel. I cleared my throat. “You’re early,” I muttered, and looked sideways at him. He was grinning at me. Our drinks arrived, and I took the chance to have a drink to give me some time.

  “I don’t like to be late, so better to be early, and if you weren’t ready, I was just going to have a quick drink and wait for you.” He sipped his beer.

  My dad would be thrilled with his approach to punctuality.

  “Okay, that’s…sensible,” is all I could offer.

  I could typically do small talk comfortably, but his blue eyes were short-circuiting my thought processes. I needed to get my brain in gear, otherwise he would think I was boring. I closed my eyes briefly to regain my composure; I refused to ask him about the weather.

  “You look lovely, by the way,” he remarked. “I’m glad you agreed to join me for dinner tonight; I wanted to get to know you a little better.”

  Well, that floored me. “Thank you. I didn’t have much with me, so this was the best I could do.”

  “Do you always do that? “He looked serious for a moment.

  “Do what?” I was confused; where was this going?

  “Put yourself down when someone compliments you?” He smiled, but his eyes looked sad.

  Well, that threw me; it was like he could see inside my soul. “Well, I don’t get many compliments, to be honest, so I…” and I trailed off and looked down into my lap and picked at an invisible bit of fluff.

  “I find that very hard to believe,” he said warmly.

  I couldn’t cope with this line of questioning and thought he might be ridiculing me, but he looked 100% sincere, but what did I know? I opted to change the subject and get back to a safer topic.

  “I’m glad you asked me. I’ve been thinking about Edinburgh, and I didn’t get a chance to explain. I don’t mix business with pleasure and, as we might be working together, I wanted to clear the air.” I was babbling on.

  “Well, I thought we could discuss that over dinner, if you like,” he offered.

  Thank goodness he hadn’t pushed on the ‘let’s talk about Mel’s insecurities’ because we would be here all night. I have never known what anyone ever saw in me and have had plenty of counselling over the years to help me to deal with some of my ‘issues’, but the best I ever got was the ‘love yourself’ and ‘you are not superwoman’, which I had accepted in theory. I would always be a little damaged, a little flawed.

  A female voice broke me from my reverie with a breezy, “Have a lovely evening.”

  I looked up and smiled at Rosie and stood up from the bar stool, and Alistair walked a step behind me at my elbow. As we walked outside, our feet crunched on the gravel path, and he led me to a Jeep parked at the side of the hotel. Luckily the passenger door was on my side, and I was at the vehicle before he could open the door for me. I knew I was being churlish, but I was already uncomfortable, and I had always tried to be self-sufficient to the point of being too independent. Mark had knocked some of that out of me, I could see that now, but with my last few months of freedom I was not letting my guard down ever, ever again, no matter how cute the guy.

  He climbed in the driver’s side, and I looked sideways at him. “Is it far, to the restaurant?” I asked, breaking the silence.

  “No, not far,” he stated. “I hope you like the place; they do lovely food, and the atmosphere is great.”

  “So, how long have you worked at Vaughan’s?” he broke the silence with a benign question.

  Easy for me to answer and a safe subject. “About five years,” I replied.

  “Do you like it?” he continued.

  “Yeah, I do; the people are great, the boss, Nick, is a great boss, gives me enough freedom and autonomy. He’s supportive. Don’t get me wrong, there are the usual divas, but on the whole everyone is nice. What about you; how long have you worked for Campbell’s?”

  “Seems like forever.” He laughed at some private joke. “But I started there after my degree and have been working my way up since.”

  “What do you do there?” I asked.

  “At the moment, I am in client liaison, working with clients in both Canada and here in Scotland,” he stated.

  “Ah, that might explain the accent,” I offered.

  “The accent?” he smiled. I guessed it was a regular question. “Yeah, I spend equal time between the two places. I was born in Canada but brought up in bonnie Scotland,” his accent slipped instantly into a perfect Scottish accent, with no hint of Canadian.

  Then it hit me. “What’s your last name?”

  “Campbell?” he sounded confused. “Donald is my dad. My dad is Scottish, and my mum’s Canadian.”

  Shit, shit, the boss’s son. “I thought you’d be… older.”

  He laughed, and the sound was warm and filled the car, making me jump a little. “I don’t know how to take that?”

  “I just meant that I’d read a little about the business and understood there was a son, but I thought that Mr Campbell’s son would be in his forties,” I explained, but I was a little embarrassed.

  “Yes, I guess, but my mum was a bit younger than my dad, and I was somewhat of a miracle. They didn’t think I was possible, and then after me came my twin sisters. They are only a year younger than me so, while I was a surprise, they were more of a shock. Do you have brothers or sisters?” he asked.

  Oh yeah, my family, here we go; this was a conversational stopper. “I do have a sister, but I only found out about her a few years ago. I am adopted and thought there was only me. I met my birth family a few years back and found out then that I had a younger sister about eighteen months younger than me.” There it was, out there; take that, Mr Perfect Family.

  He had slowed down a little to give way to oncoming traffic. He turned towards me and said, “That must have been tough.”

  “Not really, I had a lovely life.” I went on the defensive as I often did, “My adoptive parents are amazing; they gave me a blessed life.”

  “I’m sure they did, but I meant finding out you had a sister, that must have been tough,” he added.

  I turned to him to see the most genuine look on his face. Other people thought it was great finding out you had a long-lost sibling, like in Long Lost Family. But for me, it wasn’t like that. It was a kick in the teeth.

  “Yeah it was tough. Thanks.” I was beginning to think a bit differently about this man; maybe he was a nice guy.

  “Why are you thanking me? I didn’t do anything.” He looked genuinely puzzled.

  “Well, for saying I must be tough, rather than some strange view of it, like it must be exciting or something…” I trailed off.

  We started moving again, and his attention was back on the road, but a small ‘v’ had formed between his eyes, which could either mean he was thinking hard or was puzzled.

  “Here we are,” he announced as we pulled through the gap in a stone wall and pulled into a car park which had a few cars parked in a random arrangement. The Shepherd Inn looked like it had been there for a few hundred years and was made of large ston
e blocks with deep windowsills and a slate roof. As we got out of the car, I wished I had worn different footwear, which I didn’t have with me, because my heels sunk into the stone pathway. I did the best I could to put weight through my toes and made it to the doorway relatively unscathed. Alistair had to duck through the doorway, as was usual for buildings of this age; I, on the other hand, had no problem.

  The Shepherd Inn was airy and much brighter inside than I was expecting. They had made a lot of its old-world charm, with exposed oak beams, but elsewhere the walls were painted a cool sage green and pale grey. It was old-world charm meets New England; it was very well done. The front of the inn was a bar, which was small but well stocked, and to the left and right were two reception rooms, and on the left was the snug which had a mismatch of chairs around small round tables. There were a couple of older gentlemen, probably locals, murmuring. There was also a couple enjoying a pub meal seated in the corner and, at their feet, a golden retriever was pegged out, clearly well trained enough not to beg for scraps. On the other side was a room of equal size, with comfy oversized sofas focused around a large inglenook fireplace, which looked like it had just been lit as it was not fully ablaze.

  Alistair led me into this room, nodded to the barman, who was called Angus, and we passed through to the back of the inn where a small, more formal dining area was situated. There were just six tables, and the beams around the room were ordained with fairy lights and dried flowers; they gave the place an ethereal look.

  “This place is lovely,” I gushed and looked up at Alistair. “I feel like I’m in a fairy tale.”

  “Yeah, I can see what you mean, and the food is pretty good too.”

  He smiled and led me to a table in the corner. There were small nooks in the stonework where church candles had been lit many times, as evidenced by the wax that had melted and dripped over the edge of the ledge.

  I took the chair in the corner so that I could see the room, and he sat opposite me; according to Kat’s dating etiquette this meant business only. So, I could relax a bit with that knowledge.

  I removed my jacket, hung my bag on the back of my chair and propped my elbows on the table, then I felt that this was a little too close in proximity, so quickly removed my elbows and sat back. He removed his jacket and underneath he was wearing a soft cream sweater. It looked soft like cashmere, but I resisted the urge to touch it. As I looked at him, the candlelight behind me was reflected in his blue eyes. Why did he have to be so yummy without even trying?

  He handed me a menu and said, “I would recommend the steak and ale pie or, if you’re not a big meat eater, they do a nice mushroom risotto. Also, they have good wine, or real ale is also good here.”

  “I’ll have the pie, I think, and a porter ale if they have it.” I made my mind up quickly in these situations as taking too much time made me indecisive, and I hated that.

  He looked impressed at the speed of my decision and, smiling, he added, “Good choice, I think I will join you.”

  He stood and walked back through to the bar area, and I could see part of his profile as he laughed with the barman. He must have seen me looking, as he glanced back to me and smiled. Busted.

  He came back with a pint and a half and placed the pint in front of me and kept the half for himself.

  “I didn’t know if you would want a half or a pint, so I guessed.”

  “Good choice,” I said, mirroring his words.

  We made small talk for a good twenty minutes, talking about our families, and he was very close to his family. He spoke of his parents, and he had a dual fondness for Canada and Scotland. I asked him if he had any pictures on his phone, and he said it was a work phone and he didn’t keep any images on it. Which was fair enough, I guess.

  He asked me about my parents and my friends, and I talked about growing up and about Kate, my best friend. Eventually, the food came, and we continued to talk and eat. The pie was delicious and was served with chunky chips which were laid out on the plate like Jenga.

  “I couldn’t believe it, seeing you there in the boardroom today,” he smiled, before dipping a chip in the pie gravy and popping it in his mouth. It was a nice mouth…Stop it! It’s work.

  “Yeah, I was pretty shocked when the lights went on. I was mortified when I spilt that water. It was unfair of you to tease me like that. I bet my face was bright red.” I glared at him.

  He held up his hands in surrender, “I know, I am sorry, I was shocked, I couldn’t believe it. That night in Edinburgh after we left the bar, I looked for you around the usual pubs and clubs, but you were nowhere to be found; I was gutted. I could have killed my mate; he’s a right hothead and gets himself in trouble all the time, and we are forever getting him out of bother.”

  “You looked for me?” I asked incredulously.

  “Yeah, what can I say, you bewitched me. I had never met anyone like you before; you were cute and sassy and strong and a little fragile. Seeing you today and then the way you tried to bin me off when I called you, I knew that I needed to see you. You are a contradiction. You handled the presentation well, took things in your stride, and you still gave me a run for my money. And then tonight at the hotel, you looked cute in your jeans but then gave me a hard time for being early. And here we are in this inn, and you are ordering steak pie and drinking beer and sitting opposite me with the cutest look on your face, like you don’t have a clue how attractive you are. Have you any idea how refreshing that is?”

  “What are you talking about?” I was genuinely baffled by this guy.

  He was shaking his head now, but amusement was dancing across his face. “I like you, Melissa. I’m not sure you believe me based on the look on your face. I don’t mean to scare you off, but I have thought about you a lot since Edinburgh; my biggest regret is that I didn’t get your number. And when I saw you today in that meeting room, I couldn’t believe it was you. I am sorry about the teasing in front of everyone. Part of me was checking that it was you and you got the hints I was dropping. No one else understood the metaphors and that way I knew it was you. What are the odds?”

  “But… you are sitting opposite me,” was all I could offer.

  “Yes, I am,” he stated puzzled. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, it’s just a lot to take in. I was in a long-term relationship until recently, and I fell hard after he ended it, and I am not sure, I mean, you seem like a nice guy, but I… I…Where’s the ladies’?”

  He directed me towards the bar, and in a few minutes, I was in the ladies’ looking at my flushed face – what just happened? I got my phone out of my pocket and rang Kat – she would know.

  She answered quickly, “Mel? Are you okay?” Concern laced her voice.

  Her voice was like throwing a life ring to a drowning man. “Hi Kat, I’m fine, just need a bit of advice.” I turned with my back to the mirrors and leaned against the sink. “I’m out in this lovely pub with Alistair, and it’s lovely…” she made an ‘oh’ sound and the tone was surprised and optimistic, so I continued, “and he sat opposite me…”she said ‘oh’ again but this time it was a mix of disappointment and resignation, “and he’s just told me that he likes me, really likes me, and has been thinking of me since Edinburgh…”Kat then made a sound that was more like a squeal, but I ignored her and went on, “and I don’t know what to do.”

  “Oh, Chica, please don’t tell me this is about that knob, Mark, because I swear; I will scream. Stop with the self-doubt and try and enjoy yourself with this guy. He said he likes you, so see how you get on, don’t overthink it. You are just on a date, so go on another date and see what happens. He’s up in Scotland, and you are in Manchester, so enjoy it. Get out there and try to kiss a few frogs. You’ll never find a prince when the only man you spend time with is David.”

  She was right, but I was frightened, scared to death of getting hurt, but I could trust my bullshit-ometer, and it was not
reading anything but the truth with this guy, so I could see how it went.

  Right, I had a quick wee, washed my hands, pulled up my big-girl pants, which were only metaphorically big; in reality, they were little, and on reflection that was what got me into this those few months ago. With knickers on my mind, I walked back into the room. Alistair looked up expectantly.

  “I thought I had scared you off; a few more minutes and I was going to send Angus in for you.” He threw his thumb in the direction of the old guy behind the bar.

  I made a face. “You did scare me a little, but you don’t seem like an axe murderer, so let’s just see how tonight goes and take it from there.”

  He smiled; and when he did, it was a full megawatt smile. “Axe murderer, eh? Not sure I can see your point, but if I get to see you again, I can live with that,” and he raised his glass in a fake toast. It seemed ridiculous to have a half pint in such a large hand, while my pint looked huge in mine.

  We talked about pretty much anything and shared a sticky toffee pudding with ice cream and two spoons and then talked some more. I declined more alcohol and opted for a soft drink. After last orders, he drove me back to the hotel, and he seemed to be driving extra carefully on the way back.

  “Why are you driving so slowly?” I asked.

  “Can’t get anything past you, can I?” he smiled. “I just don’t want the evening to end,” he admitted.

  Before too long we pulled into the car park of the hotel, and he turned off the engine.

  The silence was deafening, until I broke it with my quiet voice, “I had an amazing evening, thank you.” I turned towards him in my seat.

  “Me too.” He looked a little forlorn. “I don’t want you to go in. Will you let me give you a lift to the airport tomorrow?”

  No, No, No, was this a good idea? But I could hear Kate in my head, and I silenced the nagging doubt.

  “Yes, I would like that.” I tucked my hair behind my ear in a nervous gesture and looked down.