Page 7 of The Weekend Getaway

“I’m a horrible person. How long has he worked in the pub? Like a year? We’ve never bothered to find out anything about him.”

“To be fair, I don’t think he’s worked there for that long, and we don’t know much about any of the staff.”

“Why not? We see them all the time. Shouldn’t we know them better?”

“It’s a pub. It’s normal that our relationships with the staff are based on casual banter.”

“I suppose. But why am I so hung up on Noah when I don’t even know him properly?”

“Aww. So you’re finally admitting you like him?”

“Yes. But I’m not sure why. He’s not my type. Not for a serious relationship anyway.”

“Why not? He’s cute. And he seems like a nice guy.”

“He works in a pub,” Keira said, picking at a thread on the cuff of her shirt.

“You’re kind of a snob sometimes.”

“I don’t have anything against people who work in pubs,” Keira clarified. “But he’s too old for it … I guess he is anyway. I’m not actually sure how old he is. Late twenties, I reckon.”

“He’s twenty-seven. I asked him that once. Oh, and he shares a flat with one of the other barmen. Kevin, I think. See! We do know some stuff.”

“If he’s twenty-seven he’s not working in the pub as a student job – it’s his career. Which is fine, but I don’t think he’s the kind of person I want to be with.”

“I’ll say it again: you’re a snob.”

“I’m not being a snob,” Keira said, then cracked up laughing at the look on Mel’s face. “Okay, maybe I am. But it takes a certain type of person to work unsociable hours for not much pay … and that’s probably not the sort of person I want to end up with.”

“Maybe this is just a stopgap for him. He could be working here temporarily while he looks for something else.”

“Maybe,” Keira conceded. “But my point is that it doesn’t matter if he doesn’t call, because I don’t want to date him anyway.”

She told herself that repeatedly over the next few days, but by Thursday afternoon she gave up on the pretence. Walking into the flat after work, she flung her house keys on the dresser and followed the sound of Mel’s music to the kitchen. There, she plonked herself down at the table.

“Can we please agree that it’s your fault we have to find a new pub?” she asked sulkily.

Mel looked over her shoulder as she continued stirring the pot on the stove. “He still hasn’t called?”

“No. Which means I have to detour on my way home to avoid walking past the pub in case I see him. There’s no way I can show my face in there tomorrow. Which is really annoying because if there was ever a week when Friday drinks were required, it’s this week.”

“Why? What happened?”

Keira dropped her head onto her arms. “The guy I like didn’t call me. That’s what happened.”

“Aw. It’s good that you’re admitting how much you like him.”

“I think it’s a case of wanting what you can’t have. I didn’t spend every spare moment thinking about him until you intervened. I really wanted him to call.”

“Sorry. I thought he would.”

“This is the other issue … I partly blame you for the situation becauseyougave him my number. So him not calling not only makes me feel like crap, but it’s coming between us. It’s really out of order of him.”

“Uh oh,” Mel said. “You just moved very quickly from embarrassment to anger. That can’t be good.”

“No man comes between us.” Keira waved a finger between the two of them. “Who does he think he is?”

“He’s not really coming between us, though. Like you say, no one can.”