‘Haven’t you been invited to an early board meeting tomorrow?’
‘Yes, but it’s nine and I’m not twelve.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Sorry, I… I won’t be long. I want to see Elsy. We were chatting on the phone and she sounded like she had a rough day.’
‘Did she?’ Alice mellows. ‘Nothing serious, I hope. Let me know if you spend the night at her place. I will have work clothes brought to you.’
‘Thank you.’
Charles bolts out of the house before his nose starts growing and unlocks his phone to type a message as fast as he can.
21:09You had a shitty day so we’re going for a walk.
21:09Credible?
21:09 ELSYI lost an earring horrendous day!!! All good I’m not home
21:10 ELSYWhat are you up to?
21:10Just needed some fresh air but I panic-lied.
21:10ELSYBoring xx
Charles pulls his collar up and quickens his pace. The cold is already nipping his limbs. It’s a good thing he doesn’t have to go far.
Not even a mile, through streets he’s ambled along hundreds of times, towards a building he’s passed by twice as often without ever contemplating going in. The North Haven didn’t seem to be an actual place. Just like the deli, the charity shop, the launderetteand many more frontages that are just that to Charles. Frontages. Familiar elements in the setting of his daily life, that he sweeps with his eyes but never truly sees.
Elsy only advised him to wait in that pub on Tuesday to avoid meeting any acquaintances. She didn’t want her parents to hear about her medical misfortune through the Hampstead grapevine. Before that, Charles wasn’t actively snubbing the North Haven, unlike his friends, who wouldn’t be caught dead in there, because it’s cheap, naff and known to attract an elderly boring crowd.
Charles never went because his friends wouldn’t. Which means he was passively snubbing the North Haven.
This conclusion could lead to an unpleasant self-examination if he weren’t busy silencing his inner voices. Fluent in second-guessing, they’re debating whether or not polite invitations from French people are meant to be ignored.
No. Loris told him to come. Asked him to come? Gave him the option to—
‘Shut your brain, Charles.’
He can’t afford to get cold feet last minute, that’s what got him flustered in the park. He needs to gather the poise that will fortify his knockout Olwinski arguments.
Two women in parkas are sitting on the patio and interrupt their conversation to give Charles baffled looks. He pushes the door open and understands their perplexity. The pub is empty. The neon lights above the bar are still on, but most chairs are upside down on the tables and no one stands behind the counter.
Charles walks in anyway to escape the wind. ‘Hello?’
His voice echoes dismally in the room. He would welcome thissinister vibe if the place were disused. He could come up with a thrilling ghost story based on the oil portrait of a moustached horseman on the left wall. But the North Haven isn’t haunted. It’s closed, and there’s nothing fanciful about that. It’s frustrating and perhaps a sign that none of it should have mattered.
Charles doesn’t believe in any form of higher power that would cost him the little control he has on his choices. But once in a while, it’s convenient to blame fate for his mistakes, in order to feel less of a twit for leaving his room without checking opening hours.
What kind of pub closes this early, though? That, for sure, has to be illegal in—
‘Mind your back!’
Charles shrieks and waves goodbye to the semblance of poise he had found. ‘Shit! Are you a ninja?’
Loris emerges from a dark recess, carrying a case filled with bottles, bar snacks and cleaning sprays. ‘Sort of. I’ve mapped the creaking spots to make the supply rounds to the basement more entertaining.’ He plunks the heavy case onto the counter and passes behind it, flexing and kneading his biceps. ‘I wasn’t expecting you to stalk me anymore.’
Charles flexes his mind to not let this embarrassing start crush his confidence to a pulp. ‘Were you sad about it?’
