I feign disappointment. ‘Pity. A fancy cocktail was exactly what I was after.’
‘Really? I could probably look it up if you want. I think Raphael has a folder somewhere with cocktail recipes.’
‘Don’t worry, I was joking. Even by my standards, it’s a little early. Have you got any Diet Coke though?’
‘Do you want to talk about it?’ he asks as he sets a glass on the counter, adds ice and lemon before opening one of those old-fashioned glass bottles of Diet Coke and pouring in the contents. ‘Here you go. On the house.’
Do I want to talk about it? Gabriel’s probably a good listener mainly, I suspect, because it gets him off the hook of having to talk about himself. But one of the many things I like about spending time with him is he’s outside the convoluted dynamics of our holiday group and, if I’m really honest with myself, I fear he might think badly of me if I tell him everything.
‘I wonder,’ he continues after a few moments, evidently picking up something of my dilemma, ‘how many stories this bar has heard over the years. Hairdressers and bar staff seem to be people’s natural confidantes, wouldn’t you agree?’
I take a sip of my drink, enjoying the refreshing feeling as the cold liquid slips down my throat. I sigh. ‘It doesn’t portray me in a very good light.’
‘None of us is perfect. But sometimes talking something through helps us to see it in a different way, or find a path that was previously hidden.’
‘When did you get so wise?’
‘Oh, I’m not. I’m just absorbing wisdom from being this side of the bar, like some kind of bartender superpower.’ He leans forward conspiratorially. ‘Do you know the other bartender superpower?’
‘No. Enlighten me.’
‘A total inability to judge. You could confess to mass murder and, not only would I be unfazed, I’d completely forget about it the moment I stepped out from behind here. It’s like the confessional, only with refreshments on tap.’
‘I don’t think you’d be able to forget if I told you I was a mass murderer,’ I tell him.
‘Maybe not that, no. But most things. Try me.’
I study him for a moment. I may not know him terribly well, but there’s just something about him that makes me trust him. After a moment, my decision is made.
‘You know the woman who thinks I’m trying to steal her boyfriend?’ I begin.
‘Yes.’
‘I’m not, but her suspicions aren’t totally without foundation.’ Before I know what’s happening, the whole story is pouring out of me, from the way Stuart dumped me years ago, through the events of New Year’s Eve, right up to my conversations with both Amy and Stuart this morning. Apart from a few encouraging noises when I pause, Gabriel says nothing.
‘I expect you think I’ve brought this mess on myself,’ I tell him when I finally reach the end.
‘Why would I think that?’
‘Because it’s no more than I deserve for being complicit in Stuart’s cheating, or something like that.’
‘If that’s what you think then I hate to tell you this, Tori, but you don’t know me very well.’
‘Well, we both know I don’t know anything about you,’ I retort. ‘Because you flatly refuse to tell me anything.’
He laughs again. His laugh is so deep and rich that I don’t just hear it, I can practically feel it resonating through me.
‘That’s a fair point, I suppose. But I don’t think this is some kind of divine retribution. If anything, I think you need to cut yourself a little more slack.’
‘Easier said than done.’
‘Oh, absolutely. Forgiveness is never easy and we are all our own harshest critics. The only people who would disagree with that are probably psychopaths. But it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try. I may not know you very well, but the very fact that you’re struggling so much with all of this tells me something vital about you.’
‘Which is?’
‘You’re not a bad person because of this, Tori. If you hear nothing else today, hear this. You’re a good person trying to navigate through life, just like the rest of us. We all take the occasional wrong turning, but wisdom comes from learning to recognise when we do it and, rather than giving up or deciding that we’re just worthless and deserve the bad things that happen to us, having the courage to turn around and try a different way. That’s literally what repentance is, if you’re interested.’
I smile at him. ‘Thank you, Pastor Gabriel.’
