To adjust to the new situation.
My footsteps take me into the pub in the village square and I signal to Tommy behind the bar for my usual cider half.
“What’s going on?” Janey seems to catch on. “Something is holding you back. Is it a woman? That friend you said was having a baby?”
“What? No, no, of course not.” I lie because it’s too complicated to explain to Janey.
“I didn’t have the chance to say this last time,” she starts.
I look around desperate for a reason to stop her because I know what’s coming.
“Brandon, I wanted to ask you something.”
“Just a sec,” I tell her and turn to Tommy. “Can you make this a bottle of Stella?”
I stay off the phone long enough to pay him and take my bottle, all the time trying to think of a way to gently deflect her away from asking me to move in with her, to restart our on-off fling and make it serious.
When I first met Janey, she worked in the events team, for a touring chamber orchestra. We only got together when we happened to be in the same city. But last year, she got a job in the Concertgebouw’s admin department. Now, we’ll be on the same crew; the obvious question raises its hand and demands to be asked.
“Are you there?”
“Yes, I’m in a pub, sorry it’s a bit noisy here.”
“Are you going out?” This is Tommy.
I turn back to him. “Yes.”
“Could you show this bloke to the Municipalité?”
‘This bloke’ is a suited man standing at the bar and looking rather annoyed.
“Can I help you?” I ask him.
“I’m looking for the island’s governor.” He says with exaggerated patience.
“He means the Seigneur.” Tommy corrects with an eyeroll.
“Is it far?” The man straightens his jacket, ready to move.
“No, it’s just a few minutes across the square.” Then I put the phone back to my ear. “Janey, can I call you later?”
“I’m going out later. It’s okay, I’ll hold.”
“I have to deal with someone, I can’t talk now.”
“I heard you say it’s just a few minutes.”
The man in the suit is watching me, his leg lifts then settles back down. If he weren’t so polite, he might start tapping his foot.
“I can wait.” Janey says.
The last thing I want is an awkward discussion in front of Tommy and this stranger. “Okay, fine, I’ll be as fast as I can.”
I usher the suit out of the pub. “Let’s go.”
“Who is the current Seigneur? Is it Du Montfort still?” he asks.
“Yes. He has an office at the Municipalité there.” I point to the two-floor building with Georgian columns. “But the entrance is along the side on Willow Lane, I’ll show you.”
