Short Story Challenge Day 3 - Your round
Bethan Jones shook the snow from her big white boots on the ironwork shoe scraper outside the Albany. Blethyn strode ahead into the lounge, determined to find a booth that would seat four of them. He hated sitting around the tables in the middle of the room. He needn’t have rushed though - Pat and Roy were already there, sitting on the deep red corner sofa next to the back door. Blethyn sighed deeply - now he and Bethan would have to sit on the small barstools - but corrected himself and smiled at Roy, who stood up to shake his hand. Pat stood up and they kissed on the cheek. Bethan stood outside the door and watched them all through the glass. She took a deep breath and walked into the pub.
Blethyn sat down and reached for his drink. There were already two extra pints of Brains on the table - 45 for him, SA Gold for Bethan. Bethan awkwardly kissed Pat on the cheek, and then greeted Roy. She sat down opposite Pat and looked down at the table, fingering the disintegrating beer mat in front of her. There was rugby on the TV screens around the pub, and Roy and Blethyn were already elbow deep in discussions about the Wales team that season. Pat was wearing a long brown cardigan, black t-shirt and flowery scarf. She had no makeup on, but whatever she wore, she always looked incredible. Bethan often felt dowdy and plain next to her. Whenever she made an effort to doll herself up - as she had today - she felt more tranny than glam.
Blethyn burst out laughing at something that Roy said, an uncomfortably loud laugh that made Bethan wince. Blethyn wiped under his eyes and slapped his hand down on Bethan’s thigh. She winced again, then was jolted by her mobile phone vibrating in her handbag. It was a message from Lowri. “merry xmas mam. have u done it yet? love u xoxo” Bethan deleted the message and put the phone back in her bag.
Pat raised her glass and cleared her throat. “A toast - to our very good friends - and a very good Christmas.”
“Hear hear,” rumbled the two men, and the four of them raised their glasses to the centre of the table. Bethan felt Pat was trying to make eye contact. She kept her eyes on the glasses, then looked back down at her knees. She didn’t like the way her trousers fell across her skin. She plucked them loose, and the material relaxed back down. She glanced at Blethyn. His thick fingers drumming on the table. The tough skin on his neck. His navy fleece hung over the back of the chair. It’s not like I hate him, Lowri. It’s not like I see him around the house and think - God, I hate you. You don’t understand, Lowri. It’s different - at my age, these things are different. It’s not like you - your relationships. We are not all entwined. We have seperate lives. We are too old to live these romantic dreams - they are for when you are young. I made those mistakes once. Once was enough.
“Yeah, ours has been pretty quiet,” said Blethyn, leaning on his elbow and looking across the table. “Not really been out or done much this year. Beth’s hardly been out at all, apart from when she came over your place to see you Pat, last weekend . She came back and wasn’t feeling well after that - was in bed for days, couldn’t get up. Feeling better now though, aren’t you love.”
Bethan coughed on a sip of her pint. Pat pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket and handed it across the table. “Yes, yes. Better.”
Bethan felt her phone going. She glanced quickly at it - Lowri was calling her. She turned off the vibrate alarm, and inhaled deeply.
She picked up her bag and looked at Pat, dead in the eyes. “I’m just going to the ladies.”
Pat sat silent for a second, then stood up, picking up her bag as well. “I’ll come too.”
Unnoticed by their partners, the two women walked out of the lounge. They stopped briefly outside the toilets and looked at each other. Without saying a word they continued down the corridor, into the other bar area of the Albany, and out of the side door. It would be some time before Roy or Blethyn started wondering where they had got to.
2 years ago • 1 note
