Sliding Down the Sky (8 page)

“So proud of you,” she said in my ear, above the noise. “You’ve come such a long way. Thank you, for being part of this with us.”

She spoke as if I had a choice, as if I’d chosen to be here, with them, and it made me feel guilty. If I hadn’t made one stupid decision a year ago, God only knew where I’d have been tonight, and I would’ve missed all of this.

I hugged her back, nodding into her shoulder. She let me go and went over to collect Aria from Leo, then she took her home and Leo and I went back to serving the crowd of patient revellers.

Gemma was right. I had come a long way, and I had to try and remember that and not concentrate so much on the lengthy journey still ahead of me. That’s the thought I tried to keep in my head as I served one customer after another. They didn’t seem to notice that I wasn’t as confident as Leo, and that I fumbled a bit with the glasses or bottles. I managed not to drop anything important, and I was working out the best way to do things, drawing me the least amount of attention. I realised that people weren’t there to stare at me. They were there to drink and have a good time – I was just incidental.

A switch flipped somewhere deep inside of me. It felt like being on stage again, only this time I was playing the role of barmaid, not musician. The feeling was similar, though. It was the same stage, just a different character. I put the mask on, and I played to the crowd as best I could.

All this time I’d been hiding from people, afraid of what was out there, of how I would be perceived or judged, worried that someone might recognise me. Yet tonight, no one looked twice at me, or my hand. They were too busy trying to make themselves heard over the music, or passing drinks back to their friends, or handing over money. From being afraid of strangers and what they might think of me, I found myself drawing strength from them. I was just part of the crowd again. It was a revelation.

The customer I’d just served took his drinks away, and the space he had just vacated was suddenly filled with Callum. All six-feet-something of him. He smiled at me, and my stomach flip-flopped, which threw me. After what happened at the diner, I was pretty sure I’d scared him away. What I wasn’t expecting was to feel so disappointed about it. Backing away from people had become second nature to me recently, and I knew I could be daunting when I was in self-preservation mode. I wasn’t expecting him to smile at me like that after the way I’d behaved. I wouldn’t have been at all surprised if his approach had been civil, even hostile. But there was nothing hostile about him tonight.

“Hey,” he said above the music.

“Hey yourself.”

“Happy opening night.”

“Thanks.” I found myself smiling back at him. “What can I get you?”

He leaned over the bar towards me so I could hear him.

“Two beers and two Cokes, please.”

He leant both forearms on the bar, and I got the feeling he would’ve actually sat there and stayed, if there had been room. Unfortunately, there wasn’t, and I grabbed some glasses to fill his order, feeling his eyes on me. Thankfully, I didn’t mess anything up under the scrutiny, and I glanced up at him as he handed me over some cash.

“I’m glad you came,” I said, before I could stop myself.

I could feel my cheeks burning, but he didn’t seem to notice. Gone were the apologies and the flustered looks and the stolen glances at my hand. It was just him, smiling at me in a way that made me feel like I was a normal human being. It was one of the only times I could remember feeling like that in recent history.

“Me too,” he smiled.

It felt like the world was opening up again, breaking apart at the edges, but in a good way this time. The noise seemed to quiet down to a dull roar, the room full of strangers blending into the background, until it was just Callum, smiling at me over the bar.

He picked up his drinks and turned away, making his way back to his friends. I wanted to watch him, to see what he did next, but there were customers to serve and I had a job to do. So I let him go, and the noise seeped back, filling the void, as I turned to the next customer.

“What can I get you?” I asked, unable to keep the smile off my face.

After a while the crowd thinned, the band wound up their set, and Leo began to clean up as I served the tail-enders. I couldn’t help keeping an eye on Callum after that, sitting across the room with his friends. I served Jack a couple of times, and he seemed to be having a good time, as did Ally. I’d only met him a few times, but he was friendly and relaxed, and I knew Leo liked him. Watching from a distance, I could tell that he and Callum were good friends.

Ally wasn’t as loud as the blonde girl they were with. She seemed to sit back and watch them, taking it all in. The blonde one was gorgeous, bubbly and confident – everything I wasn’t. I wondered what her relationship was to Callum. I could tell from their body language that she wasn’t Callum’s girlfriend. It’s funny, the information you can glean from just watching people from a safe distance. I’d done a lot of that lately. In any case, I was relieved, not for any other reason except that it gave me hope. Maybe I could do some harmless flirting after all. Maybe it would make me feel more like my old self if I did.

Soon, the exodus began in earnest. People started coming up to us before they left, telling us how much they’d enjoyed the night, complimenting the band, saying they’d be back. I realised that the fatigue that had been creeping up on me over the past hour was different to other forms of fatigue I’d suffered. This was the kind of fatigue that came from the satisfaction of having done a job well, not the kind that comes from spending your waking hours fighting your demons. This was definitely the kind of fatigue that would help me sleep tonight, not keep me awake.

When there were only a few tables of people left, I saw Callum’s friends get up and leave. It was then that I realised that Ally wasn’t using a wheelchair. The only other times I’d met her she’d been in a wheelchair, so I was surprised to see her using crutches. As I was busy pondering that, both of them turned to wave and smile at us. Then Jack put his hand protectively on the small of her back as they made their way over to the door, leaning in to kiss her neck briefly.

That one small gesture left me with a longing deep in my bones.

I’d never spent much time thinking about relationships. I wasn’t good at them before, I’d always preferred the freedom of being alone, but lately alone had a hollow ring to it. What might it be like, to have someone to talk to, someone to put their hand in the small of my back and kiss my neck like Jack had just done to Ally?

Someone to love me, even the broken and missing parts of me.

I dragged myself back to reality and swallowed back the tears that had appeared out of nowhere.

God, what a mess.

I grabbed a cloth and began to wipe the bar down for the hundredth time that night, sniffing madly. If Leo saw me like this he’d send me home, and right now I didn’t want to go home to my empty bed. There was something comforting about being here. I felt at home, which was strange, because I hadn’t really felt at home anywhere for a long time. Right now, wiping down the bar, only a handful of people left, Leo cleaning the tables, the band packing up, felt like my comfort zone.

When I looked over at Callum again, he was walking towards me, beer in hand. Nervous energy surged through me. Without the safety of being able to hide in the crowd, my self-confidence wilted and I suddenly felt vulnerable.

“I think you missed your ride,” I tried, indicating the trio who had just walked out the door.

“Lightweights,” he said, settling himself on a bar stool. “No stamina. You’re not trying to get rid of me too, are you?”

He raised his eyebrows playfully and my heart rate skyrocketed.

“Not at all. Stay as long as you like – or until Leo throws you out.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he quipped, blue eyes twinkling with mischief. “I’ve been thrown out of here a few times over the years, but you didn’t hear that from me, okay?”

He looked much more relaxed than when we met at the diner, but that was probably because he’d had a few beers. I remembered that feeling, that hazy glow that seemed to surround everything. It made me feel a little less edgy, less in the spotlight. Even though I was stone-cold sober, I clung to the idea that we were meeting on neutral territory.

We were both a little compromised.

“I may not believe in myself, but I believe in what I’m doing.”

– Jimmy Page

Callum

I couldn’t keep my eyes off her. I hung out after the others left because I wanted more of her, and if I was honest with myself, it scared the hell out of me. I didn’t remember wanting anyone like I wanted her. I not only wanted to redeem myself in her eyes, I wanted to impress her. It was a slippery slope, but I was going to climb it, even in the face of the odds that I was sure had been stacked against me. The thought was terrifying.

The bar had been busier than I’d ever seen it in its previous incarnation. It was shoulder to shoulder for hours. Sass was impressive, handling her customers with ease. No small feat considering she was doing it literally single-handedly. She used her left hand intermittently, although she clearly had no way of holding things with it. She did everything with her right hand, only using her left to steady things.

Despite all that, she kept her head down and her manner professional. Except when I went up to get my round.

That smile… Jesus, that smile.

It was that smile that told me she’d forgiven me for the ass I’d made of myself at the diner. It was that smile that had me hanging around long after everyone else had gone home, eager for some private time with her. It was that smile that gave me hope.

“I’m no expert,” I said, as she ran a cloth over the bar. “But I’d say tonight was a raging success, as far as opening nights go.”

She glanced up briefly, as she worked her way down to the cash register in the middle of the bar with her cloth.

“I think so, too. Leo’s over the moon.”

“I bet he is. The band were great – if it’s gonna be like this every Friday night I’ll definitely be here, and I bet the majority of the people here tonight will be too. Hope you guys are ready for that?”

“I’d like to think we are.”

The band members were sitting around on the stage, their instruments all packed into cases, having a quiet drink. She came back to my end of the bar and dropped the cloth, then filled a glass with ice and topped it up with Coke.

“I thought you’d need something stronger,” I said, spotting my opening. “You should be celebrating. Can I buy you a real drink?”

She shook her head, and maybe it was the lighting, but it looked like she was blushing.

“Thanks, but I don’t drink.”

I stared at her, sure I’d heard wrong.

“God, look at your face,” she chuckled.

It was the first time I’d heard her laugh, and it wasn’t what I expected. It was deep, throaty and low. Not in the least bit girly or superficial. It was real, and I liked it. I smiled in spite of myself, and suddenly the mood seemed a hundred times lighter.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that –“

“I work in a bar and I don’t drink. Yeah, I know. I see the irony, believe me.”

Just then, someone started playing guitar. I looked over towards the band, and one of the guys was sitting on the edge of the stage, playing something vaguely familiar. Leo had pulled a chair up and was sitting talking to them. He’d lost some of his earlier intensity, and looked relaxed and interested. Dare I say it, more comfortable. I remembered what Jack had said about the piano and his guitar collection. I guess music was his thing.

“He’s a freakin’ genius,” I said, almost to myself. “Having live music will have people coming from miles around.”

I looked back at Sass, but her attention was on the band and Leo.

“I’m really proud of him,” she said.

Maybe it was the booze, but right at that moment, she could’ve read me the phone book and I’d have hung onto each and every word.

“He’s worked so hard to get this place up and running. He’s poured his heart and soul into it, and so has Gemma. If this place ends up being a raging success, it’ll be because they made it happen.”

They were obviously a close family and I envied the hell out of that. Jack was the closest thing I had to a brother these days, and lately I couldn’t even talk to him without crossing my fingers behind my back.

“You should give yourself some credit too. Sounds like it’s been a team effort.”

She shook her head, and I could see she was uncomfortable with the praise.

“I’m just the grunt,” she said, reaching for her Coke.

We were interrupted by a guy coming to the bar, and she went off to serve him as I sat there and watched the band, who by this time seemed to have settled into an impromtu jam session. Leo was sitting next to them on the edge of the stage now, also with a guitar, playing something slow and soulful that I didn’t recognise. He was good. Really good. He was hunched over the guitar, concentrating, his eyes closed, blocking out his surroundings. I couldn’t play an instrument to save my life, but I recognised passion when I saw it. One of the guys in the band was playing bass next to him. It was a rolling, acoustic piece, but the impact was undeniable. They had me, and the handful of others who were still there, in the palm of their hands.

“What are they playing?” I asked, as Sass finished serving and came back down my end of the bar.

She glanced in their direction only briefly, leaning her hip against the bar and picking up her Coke again.

“It’s a Paolo Nutini song,” she said. “It’s called
Numpty
.”

I shook my head, clueless.

“Never heard of him.”

“He’s a Scottish singer/songwriter. He plays with a band called The Vipers. It’s a long story, but the short version is that one of the band members was in this other band with Leo, before The Vipers. They’re still friends, and they keep in contact.”

Her expression was an odd mixture of sadness and pride.