Si had been tempted, Zig was almost certain.That moment in the pub when they’d held hands and talked about second chances.It hadn’t all been Zig’s stupid, hopeful imagination wanting them to get back to how they used to be.Si had been thinking about it too.Wanting it, even.
But then he’d thought about it some more, and he’d made sure things didn’t go any further.Because, face it, Si was smart enough to know he didn’t need a fuck-up like Zig ruining the life he’d made for himself here.With a good job and mates who cared about him.Close to his mum and dad—decent people who obviously loved him to bits.
Zig ought to be happy for him.And hewas.But he couldn’t help wishing Si’s life could include him, that was all.Because it was clear, now, that Si wouldn’t want him staying in his flat much longer.He’d have to move out, find his own place somewhere.Some boxlike room in a shitty shared house, like he’d had in London.And yeah, he’d still see Si.Friday nights, when he came in with his mates for band night.Around town.Maybe Si would let him come to the flat for pizza and aDoctor Whomarathon every now and then.But what they’d had today—the closeness they’d shared—that wouldn’t be repeated.Si would drift away from him.
Zig had lost him.
He made it to the Prince of Wales, having barely noticed the route he’d taken.There must have been other pedestrians, cars on the roads he’d crossed, but he couldn’t have remembered any of them to save his life.He should probably feel grateful that his subconscious had had enough sense of self-preservation to stop him from walking under a bus, but it was difficult to muster the energy to care.
Standing for a moment outside the pub, gazing at the already-familiar black-and-white exterior, Zig squared his shoulders, took a deep breath, and struggled to find a smile.Punters didn’t like a miserable sod behind the bar, and Ange wouldn’t thank him for chasing off trade.It was time to put his game face on.
When he walked in, Finn was behind the bar and flashed him a smile.It helped.
“All right, mate?”Zig greeted him.
Finn glanced at the clock on the wall.“You’re early.Sucking up to the boss, or could you not wait to see me?”
“You got me.I’ve been pining for your presence.Be back in a mo, once I’ve got me shirt off.”Zig headed into the back room to change into his regulation polo shirt.He’d been issued with two, and the one he’d worn last night was snuggling up to Si’s undies in the laundry basket back at the flat.
Way to go, Zig.Jealous of your bloody uniform shirt.
Ange waltzed in while he was mid-change without so much as a by-your-leave.“Well now, my lover,thatI did not expect.”
Zig rolled his eyes—it was safe; he was facing away from her.“Shocked by how fit I am?”
“Surprised by your taste in ink, more like.I wouldn’t have put you down as the flowery sort.”
He pulled on the shirt and turned around, blocking her view of the tattoo on his shoulder.“Me gran’s name was Rose, and they were her favourite flower.”
Ange’s expression softened.“You were close, were you?”
Zig shrugged one shoulder.“Didn’t have a mum, so yeah, I guess.”No guessing about it.Everything had been better before Gran had died.Even Dad had watched how he spoke and acted while she was around.
“Well, it’s a lovely way to remember her.Now go on, don’t let me keep you.There’s thirsty people out there.Although I hope you’re not expecting to be paid for the extra fifteen minutes.”
“Hadn’t crossed me mind,” Zig said honestly and headed out to the bar.
Ange hadn’t been wrong about the thirsty punters.The pub was busy enough, although it was a different crowd from last night.Zig let himself fall into the rhythm of serving drinks and taking payment, adding a bit of banter when it seemed called for.
None of Si’s mates had turned up by ten o’clock, which probably meant they weren’t coming.Zig was grateful.He wasn’t sure he could take any of Adam’s digs tonight.
Or, for that matter, the reminder of how badly he’d fucked up back when he’d first known Si.Christ, what if things had gone differently, back then?What if he’d distanced himself from Dad earlier?Told Trent to sod off when he came sniffing round Si at the pub?Maybe him and Si would’ve stayed together.Zig would never have gone to prison.He might have joined Si in learning a trade.Got a job that paid more than minimum wage.
Maybe he’d be happy now.Although he might have the odd scar from the beating Trent would’ve given him.
“All right there, my lover?”Ange’s sharp voice cut into his thoughts.“You’re away with the fairies this evening.”
“Sorry.”Zig dragged up his best smile.“Did I miss something?”
“I was saying, we’ve got a barrel needs changing.Go with Finn, and he can show you where everything is.”
“Course.”Zig nodded to Finn, and they headed out back while Ange took up her station at the bar.
“You don’t really need me,” Finn said as they jogged down the stone stairs to the cellar.“It’s all pretty standard down here.”
Zig grinned.“Yeah, but for all Ange knows, I lied about me experience.I could end up swapping stout for cider.”
Finn laughed.“No way, mate.I’ve seen how you move around the bar.You’ve got plenty of experience.”His shoulder bumped against Zig’s as they reached the empty barrel.
