"I'm looking for somewhere to do volunteer work," Archie confided as he downed the rest of his Guinness. Our conversation was starting to wind down, but he didn't seem all that keen on me leaving. "I was at a shelter in Tottenham, but they didn't have much for me to do except walk dogs and pet cats."
"I might know a place," I offered. Warmth heated my cheeks, and I felt a little giddy. Definitely tipsy. "I'm volunteering soon again at a shelter in Wimbledon. I know the owner." Gosh, that sounded pretentious, but I couldn't help that I had connections. "I can put in a good word and ask if they can take you on?"
Archie's eyes lit up. "Yeah? That would be incredible, Millie. Thank you." His eyes crinkled in the corners, and their brown depths heated. "Especially if I'll be doing it with you."
Red touched my cheeks, and another feeling of warmth snaked through me. I broke eye contact and snatched up my water glass. It was then that I noticed my phone ringing. Oh, shit. Alessio. I'd texted him that I was heading to the pub by the lecture hall for a quick drink. That was three hours ago.
“I'm just going to step out to take this.”
I placed the phone to my ear as I made my way through the crowd. The cold evening air greeted me, sobering me somewhat as the chatter and music faded.
"Hello? Alessio?"
“Where are you?" he demanded. His slightly accented voice scraped me like sandpaper. "I'm near your university.”
What was he doing out here? “Sorry, I got caught up here. I'm still at the pub nearby.”
"Where is it?"
I frowned at his harsh tone. "It’s called The Pig’s Head.”
There was a beat of silence. “The Pig’s Head,” he sounded out the words slowly. “Right. I’ll be there soon.”
“Oh, but I’m not ready to lea—” the words died on my lips when I realised he hung up on me. I stuffed my phone back into my pocket with a huff, annoyed that he was forcing me home.
“You alright?”
I turned to the sound of Archie's voice, unaware that he had followed me outside. He was leaning against the wall of the pub, smoking a cigarette. He offered one to me, and I shook my head.
"Yeah, I'm fine. That was my husband."
He took a long drag before nodding thoughtfully. “You off, then?”
I gave him an apologetic smile, thankful that I had brought my bag out with me. I might as well stay out here to wait for him.“Looks like it, sorry. I’ll have to buy you all another round some other time.”
“Don’t worry about it." He stubbed his cigarette out on the metal boxes attached to the wall. "You’ve already done me a favour by setting me up with work.”
He rubbed his hands down his jeans, suddenly looking nervous. He cleared his throat as he stuck his hands into his pockets. “Hey, my band plays gigs at The Rose and King in Acton on Saturday nights. You should come watch us play.”
“Oh, I didn't know you were in a band.”
His shoulders lifted in a careless shrug. “It's nothing fancy. We don’t play our own music, just covers.”
“What kind of songs?”
His hand rubbed at the back of his neck. “The Stone Roses, The Verve, Oasis, Arctic Monkeys, that kind of vibe.”
“Oh.”
He laughed. “From your face, I can tell it’s not really your scene.”
Pink climbed my cheeks as I joined his laughter. “Well, to be perfectly honest, I don’t know what my scene is. I married quite young, you see, so I haven’t had time to see bands in pubs.”
“Then come next Saturday.” He dug out his wallet and produced a wrinkled paper.
I smoothed the flyer out. “The Heath's,” I read.
“It’s my last name.”
