“Sadie Grace? Don’t be ridiculous. I was telling her off. And to be fair to the parent, we were in the supermarket.”
“What was Sadie doing?” Keren wasn’t sure if she wanted to know. Rayah’s influence on Sadie had been chronic. Sadie had the same facial expressions and mannerisms, and somehow the same penchant for trouble.
“Hiding chocolate bars in with the vegetables. I managed not to laugh.”
“Did she cry when you told her off?” Sadie was a master of crocodile tears; she had a pained expression that made most hearts melt and allowed her to get away with most mischief, other than with Rayah. Because it took one to know one.
“No. I don’t get the tears because she knows they don’t work. I get the stubborn jaw and the refusal to look at me for a couple of hours. She hates it when I tell her off.” Rayah checked her watch. “I have to go. If you want to stop by Jonny’s tonight and keep me and the rascals company, then do. That is if you’re not too tied up with Scott.” Her eyes twinkled wickedly.
“I think he’s working tonight. We don’t actually have any plans to see each other again. Weekend could’ve been a one off.” It was true. He hadn’t suggested anything about the next time they’d see each other, although there would be a next time, even if neither of them wanted it.
Keren stiffened and wondered if that the weekend was it; he’d gotten her out of his system or they were now friends who fucked. She wasn’t sure what to make of that prognosis and she wasn’t sure why she was bothered by it.
Rayah opened the door. “Swing by if you want. Although you might end up helping Sadie with her homework. I’ve told Jonny I don’t agree with homework to start with and I’m certainly not starting tutoring his kids.”
“He doesn’t know how lucky he is to have you,” Keren told her. It was true; Jonny would be screwed without Rayah.
“It’s Severton, Key. Someone would step up to help him out, but those kids don’t need any undue influences. Imagine if they spent an evening with Ludd or even Jake? I have to deal with them in school.”
Keren didn’t believe her for one minute. Rayah’s unrequited love for Jonny had been there since she’d seen him with Sadie Grace at her first birthday party and she’d taken her first steps into her daddy’s open arms.
Keren had been there; they all had. Sadie Grace wouldn’t remember the mother who had died just after she was born, leaving Jonny with three small children. Her first birthday party had been both a day for celebration and one for remembrance.
But it was Rayah’s face Keren remembered most from that day as she had watched Jonny cuddle his little girl when she took those first steps. She’d never seen that expression on her friend before, sheer and utter enchantment and then her eyes had stayed not on Sadie but Jonny. It had been as if some magical fog had somehow been lifted and she’d suddenly seen Jonny in a completely different way. Then she’d left the room where the party was being held and disappeared on to the fields, Keren finding her half an hour later, although Rayah had refused to talk about it. Falling for the widower of someone who used to be your friend was never going to be the easiest path to take.
“You head back to school. I’ll see you tomorrow in the bar. Quiz night. Joy.”
Rayah smiled. “You love it really. Remember to keep your doors locked.”
Keren gave a mock salute. “Yes miss.”
She was rewarded with a two-fingered salute.
On one of the walls of the bar was a selection of faux deer heads and antlers. Occasionally, some joker would hang items from their horns or attach a banner or bunting. Today someone had clipped mini Polaroid photos of the telephone boxes throughout town, all painted in their bright glory.
“Who hung those?” Keren asked Abby, who was nearly always working Tuesday nights with Scott.
Abby shook her head. “They were here when I came in this afternoon. I asked Bez – he seems to think they were left in an envelope with instructions to hang them up. I guess we’ll never know who the mystery artist is. Another post box was done overnight too.”
“What was the design?” The artist had been getting more and more creative.
“It was the peaks with the torches being carried down for the rivers of light. It’s amazing. How they do it in such a short time period, I don’t know. What do you want to drink?” The Rivers of Light was a winter tradition to remember the people lost. Fell walkers or runners would climb one of the peaks and descent with a lit fiery torch, creating the effect of a river of fire trailing down the mountain.
“Nothing alcoholic. I’m not in the mood, weirdly. Fresh orange? And I’ll get a pint of Guinness for Rayah, because it’s Tuesday,” Keren said. And Rayah always drank Guinness on a Tuesday.
“Coming up. Go sit down, I’ll bring them over.”
Keren turned and came face to face with Scott, who had his arms folded and was appraising her.
“I haven’t been ghosting you,” she said. “Honest.”
“I know. You responded to my texts.”
“Good.”
They stood looking at each other until he folded his arms and gave her a knowing grin that made her want to slap him. Not that she would, but she could feel the annoyance wafting off her like poisoned gas.
“How do you want me to greet you?” Scott kept his words quiet. “Tell me so I don’t get it wrong.”
