It’s a quiet pub these days, especially during the week.  Picks up a bit at the weekend, but everyone seems to be feeling the pinch.  It’s a bit off the beaten track.  They could do with improving the décor if they wanted to attract punters.  The brown floral carpet must have been down since the 70’s.  Old Pat Burke could do with spending a bit of cash on the place.  The walls are yellow from smoke.  It could do with a lick of paint. I wouldn’t bring a girl to this place, even if I had one.

It’s all the same to me.  I get paid whether the bar is full or empty.  I have to listen to himself telling me how hard it is for him to keep the doors open.  He can still drive around in his BMW and have his holiday in the sun every year.  What he pays me barely keeps a roof over my head, never mind food on the table.  The student grant and a few quid from my folks keeps me afloat.  I’d never manage if I had mouths to feed, like poor old Michael, with a wife and a two kiddies.  He lost his job a few months back and practically begged to get this one.  Poor sod.

There’s a few oldies that come in regularly.  Sit over a pint like they’ve no home to go to.  You get a few couples at weekends.  Sit staring around or into their glass, hardly a word between them.  There’s a dart board in the other bar.  You’ll get a few lads there at the weekend.  Some watching the television, Match of the Day.  Others putting bets on who’ll win the darts. Mostly quiet until someone scores a bulls-eye, or near enough to it, or a roar when a goal is scored.

There’s a couple who come in every Friday, usually around six thirty from the nearby office block. They look like office types.  They always sit in the alcove just inside the door.  He looks a decent enough sort.  Navy coat over a dark suit. Always has a tartan scarf around his neck.  There’s nicotine stains on two fingers of his right hand.  Kathy, that’s her name.  I heard him ask her if she wanted crisps one time.  She drinks vodka and coke.  He has a beer, half one, every time.  She wears a wedding ring.  I’ve watched them while I’m drying the glasses.  I don’t stare, but there’s a clock just above where they sit.  Why it was put in that corner God only knows.  She has dark wavy hair to her shoulders.  The light above them gives it a shine.   The red lipstick makes her face look pale.  She always wears the same grey coat and white woollen scarf.  When she takes it off, her face seems to lift.  Maybe it’s the bright colours she wears under the coat, or coming in from the night air.  He walks straight to the bar and orders the drinks.  Then they draw closer and hold hands.  He seems to do most of the talking, and she most of the smiling.  They’ve been coming in for a good while now.

Weeks pass and the regulars come and go.  It seems to get quieter by the week.  Maybe the bad weather is keeping people away.  He came in last week, but no sign of the girl.  He’s early tonight. That’s unusual. I can hear the six o’clock bell strike from St. Martin’s.  The door opens just after six, and in she steps, wearing dark shades.  He stands up and tries to help her off with her coat, but she holds on to it tightly. Their faces are close together. His hand goes gently towards her dark glasses, but she pushes him away.  I go to their table to see if he wants to order.  Neither of them notice me, so I walk away.  “I can’t stay” I hear her say, her voice quivering.   “He knows.  I can’t meet you anymore.  I’m really sorry”.  With that, she kisses him on the cheek and she’s gone.  For a moment he sits there, stunned.  Then he puts one arm through the sleeve of his coat as he heads for the door, leaving his cigarettes behind him on the table.

In the few minutes it took him to follow her outside, she’s nowhere to be seen.  It’s as if she’s disappeared into the shadows.  She had become part of his life, his reason for getting up in the morning.  He can’t bear the thought of going back home.  His elderly mother watching the television, waiting for him.  She’d have twenty questions, and he’d have twenty lies ready.  Tonight he wasn’t in the mood to answer any of them.