'Oh, here we go, one fish 'n' chips for Kate!' the kitchenhand yelled above the crowd, dumping the plate on my table. Any other time my eyes would have lit up with the massive feed that sat before me, but all I wanted now was to get the hell out of here.
'Ah, I don't suppose I could get this to go, could I? In a doggy bag?'
He looked at my plate then back up at me as if I were mad. 'No, sorry, we don't do doggy bags. Health regulations.'
'Oh, okay, no worries. I don't suppose there's a back way out of here, is there?'
'Only through the kitchen, but only staff are permitted there so … '
'Right, okay, no problem.' Thanks for nothing.
There was no escape. And as I picked at my plate, flaking the delicious morsels of battered fish into my mouth, loath to leave such a feast behind, it dawned on me.
He wasn't coming.
He wasn't going to approach me, or annoy me; he was going to let me be. I stole the odd glance between mouthfuls of food. Jack sat propped up at the bar, in deep conversation with the barman and no longer looking my way. For some completely irrational reason this annoyed me. All that time at Nana's really had sent me mad.
Was he ignoring me? Really?
I wasn't sure what the correct greeting ritual was when bumping into the girl one had nearly run into with one's car, but surely at least an awkward wave was required? Pfft, whatever; now I could finally eat in peace-
The toilet door slammed into the back of my chair again, this time with such force that the entire table skidded along the floorboards, sending my mushy peas sliding off my fork. I sighed, spiking the fork into the fish and grabbing for my bag. I had gone from wanting to hide to not caring if he saw me, and I strode up to the bar with my chin lifted. I placed my empty glass on the bar and waited for the barman to drag himself away from his conversation with Jack, who was four bodies down the bar, not that I was counting. I looked straight ahead, feeling his eyes on me as I ordered another drink, and grabbed a fistful of serviettes for any future spillages.
I can't believe he's not going to say anything.
He had certainly had plenty to say before. But let's face it, I knew men like Jack; okay, perhaps not firsthand exactly, but I had heard about men like Jack in the gossipy bathroom stalls on a Friday night. The kind who would make girls swoon, walk you to your door, kiss you goodnight, only to never call you … ever. I snuck a glance and saw him talking to a man to his left, who was dressed in a similar fashion: elegant tailored suit, glinting cufflinks, crisp white shirt and expertly knotted tie. I could only assume they were colleagues, or they had both rocked up to the pub embarrassingly overdressed; still, it had me thinking how well the white-collar professional look suited Jack, with his square shoulders and tall, lean frame. His dark hair had once again resisted all attempts to tame it. My attention returned to the drink that landed in front of me and as I reached for my purse the barman held up his hand.
'No need, lass, it's all taken care of,' he said with a smile. My eyes followed his down the bar to Jack, who was still involved in a discussion with his well-dressed mate.
Well, this is awkward. Is he extending an olive branch? Do I thank him? Try to make eye contact across the crowded bar?
I delayed taking the cider. 'Look, tell him thanks, but I've got this,' I said, placing the money on the bar and leaving before receiving my minuscule change. I just wanted to skull the drink in a dark corner then get the hell out of there. Heck, yes, that's what I would do. I wouldn't even sit back down; instead, I would just stand right here next to the table and – the men's toilet door flung open one last time, knocking the pint all over me and a little over the suited man before me.
'Bloody hell!' he screamed, wiping the tiny splashback from his cuff as I stood frozen, drenched down my front, gasping in shock.
'Watch where you're going, ya dozy cow,' he shouted, checking his pants and his shoes. I went to say sorry, then thought better of it.
What had I to be sorry for?
'Maybe you should watch where you're going!' I said.
Great comeback, Kate, total badass.
The man scoffed, looking me up and down like I was something that was stuck to the bottom of his shoe. I never thought a look had the power to make me feel so small, so pathetic; but then again, being soaked in cider wasn't exactly helping the situation. My day of freedom had become a complete disaster; it seemed that whenever I ventured outside my confines I was destined for bad things. I wanted to say something smart and cutting, something to dress him down in front of the pub patrons, all of whom seemed to be watching the saga unfold with great interest. Lord knows, I'd stored up plenty of Nana's icy remarks, so surely I had some retort to wound him with. As I tried trawled my brain for the right words, I felt something brush against my arm.