I found the chalk on a shelf behind the bar and wrote on the restaurant blackboard and bar menu: New and improved menu coming soon. It was an utter lie, I had only just gotten past stocking the cool room and making sure things were clean in the bar. I wasn’t ready to tackle the kitchen and restaurant yet. I hadn’t even dared to wander out and check the state of the beer garden. I made sure the doors were locked; for now, it was all off limits. It had to be.
My stomach fluttered with nerves as a large group of young locals poured through the door and made a beeline for the bar. Matt struggled to keep up with their orders. I jumped the bar and chipped in with pouring drinks. I made sure not one glass remained empty, something Dad had instilled in me. Never leave a glass empty. I worked fast and hard, which seemed to rub off on Matt, much to my surprise.
After an empty week, the Onslow filled up at the end of the work day. We literally ran from one end of the bar to the other, criss-crossing from the main bar up to serve drinks in the poolroom. I scooted along, holding three beers in my hands and propping them on the bar top.
I tapped into the cash register. “That will be seven dollars fifty.”
A twenty-dollar bill hung in my peripheral vision and I grabbed it, ready to make the quick exchange, but as I pulled it, it refused to give and my eyes darted up to meet Sean’s. He grinned down at me. He held the twenty dollars in a vice-like grip and I tugged harder, smirking.
He let go of the bill. “Smile, Amy.” He gathered the beers with ease in his large hands. “The Onslow is back in business.”
I worked quickly to deposit the twenty dollars. “Hey, don’t forget your change.”
“Keep it,” he said. “Consider it a tip for a job well done.” He winked before turning towards the pool table.
There was no time to debate the point. A sea of arms waving money meant thirsty patrons. Maybe we’d be all right after all.
Adrenalin carried me through. Sean was right, we were busy and the money flowed in. Matt and I struggled to keep up, but we did. We even exchanged a few smiles, exhilarated by the buzz of the room, the music on the jukebox. The Onslow was alive again, and my hopes soared. Maybe I had been overwhelmed at first because I hadn’t been back to Onslow for years. I had been living in our beige, modern town house in the city, so of course it was a shock to come back. Now, Matt was finally pulling his weight, picking up the challenge when I needed him most – perhaps I had been too quick to judge and all I needed was to give him a chance.
I was about to turn the corner into the main bar to tell Matt that he was doing a great job and to take a ten-minute break, when I saw him working the cash register with expert fingers. I smiled and went to call out to him over the music, when I saw him, with just as much expertise and quick fingers, slip a twenty-dollar bill from the till into his back pocket. It was so fast I almost missed it. I would have thought I had imagined it if it wasn’t for the way he looked behind him and started to whistle nervously.
My heart sank: any hopes that had been lifted tonight crashed down with an almighty thud. Matt walked towards me as if only just noticing me.
“Bloody hell, I don’t know about you but I’m knackered.”
“Yeah, me too.” I said with a half smile . “Hey, listen, do you mind if I take a break? I just need some fresh air.”
“Sure, I’ve got it.”
I bet you do, you sly thief!
Without a word, I walked from behind the bar like a zombie. I zigzagged my way through the crush, and pushed my way through the door out into the summer night, fighting the tears that wanted to fall.
Chapter Thirteen
I was well aware of the irony.
I left Matt alone in the bar while I sat on the picnic table outside in the garden, while he no doubt robbed us blind.
I just had to get out of there, though. The disappointment that rolled off me was palpable, each drawn-in breath became tighter and my hopelessness threatened to drown me.
I couldn’t do this.; I would have to ring Dad first thing and tell him what was going on, that this just wasn’t working. And then, I remembered the excitement in his voice about surprising Mum with a holiday. Hell, he had probably already done so by now. I checked my Baby-G watch: eleven p.m. Yep, they would be celebrating and making plans by now.
I rested my elbows on my knee and cupped my hands in my face.
How was I going to tell him?
How was I going to break it to him that the one person he had trusted to run the Onslow in his absence had, instead, run it further into the ground and was stealing from him.
The picnic table was off to the side and mostly hidden by bushes, so I had hoped for a moment’s privacy to collect my thoughts away from the drunken revellers. But when I heard the high-pitched giggle and voices approach, it was clear someone else had had the same idea.