Page 2 of Nick & Nora Martinis

I call over to Rob, the only member of staff I have at the moment, to watch the bar for Five minutes. We go through the double doors marked staff only, and take the stairs up to my living quarters. We walk in silence. Once at the top, I turn my head towards Jayne. “Is your suitcase in the car? I can run out and get it if you pass me your keys?”

“No, it's okay. I don't have a car or case, just the clothes on my back and in here, as she pats her bag. I just want to get in the shower, have a cuppa and get my head down for an hour or two.”

“Sure, whatever you want,” I say as I open the door to the flat above the bar. “Feel free to make yourself at home.” We step inside the flat. “My bedroom is the one straight ahead, you can use the other one.” I point in the direction of the door on the right-hand side. “It's all self-explanatory - living room, bathroom, kitchenette,” I say, waving my hand about. “Go get yourself settled and I'll see you later when you are ready. Take your time. Oh and Jay, it's great to have you here.”

“Cheers Ab. See you in a bit.”

I couldn't help but catch the sadness in her voice. I give her a half smile, turn and leave, closing the door behind me. I make my way back down the stairs to the bar, wondering to myself about what might have happened with her relationship. I mean, she and Ian have been together for a couple of years and I thought they were happy. I wonder if she'll return to France. Paris, the city of love. Or if she will stay here in the UK? Maybe if she does, she might want a job, if she moves back permanently, either staying with her parents or with me. She knows how to work a bar and would fit in perfectly. She's great with people and capable of handling herself. I start to consider her as one of the potential hires I might make today.

In all the years I've known her she's not changed one bit. She still has her dark hair, cropped on the sides and a spiky bit on the top. Her emerald-coloured eyes still sparkle with life, and her slightly larger curvy figure is to die for.

I smile to myself, reminiscing about when we were younger and the things we used to do. We would walk for miles across the fields, chasing each other. Laughing and joking about anything and everything. Climbing trees. I stood by the door thinking about how carefree we really were, remembering one time we went for a walk over the fields to see the horses, but we had to jump the stream to get there. I fell in and she stood there laughing her head off. We were inseparable. Wherever I was she was and vice versa.

I get back into the bar and set the ladder up again to carry on with the task I was doing of stocking the top shelf.

“Abigail?” I hear Rob call.

“Yeah?” I say as I stretch up to put the last bottle up. Then start to descend the steps, turning to look at him, the man who had called my name.

“Can I grab my last break now? I've finished all the jobs you gave me,” he says. His dark ginger hair stands up all over the place like he has been pulled through a hedge backwards. His black-rimmed glasses are perched on the top of his head. He has the most piercing blue eyes that twinkle in the light.

He looks all rugged but kinda handsome at the same time. Then I noticed the tattoos on his arms for the first time, but then again he never had his sleeves rolled up to his elbow. I look at his arms, my head moving from side to side, up and down, trying to figure out what some of them are. I'd love to inspect them and take a closer look. I wonder if he has them anywhere else on his body that I could inspect. Fuck me, I'm in trouble with these thoughts.

“Erm yeah, of course you can, Rob.” Looking down at my watch as I blush. “I'll tell you what, if everything is done then why don't you go home early,” I tell him, scared to look up in case he sees the glow on my face, so I turn away from him.

I heard him chuckle, clearly he saw me go red-faced. “Would you like to see my tats before I go?” he asked me.

“Really?” I say, shocked at what he'd just said. Recovering quickly, “I mean, no thank you.”

I shake my head. I watch as he goes through the double doors that separate the bar area to the back. I employed Rob last week quite by chance. As I was leaving here for the day I saw him standing right outside, he was looking up at the sign and the building in general. I asked if he was alright. He told me that when the previous owners sold the pub he lost his part-time job, he had come down just on the off-chance of seeing whoever had bought it. To see if there was a possibility of being re-hired. And here we are. I turn back to continue my job in hand.

I hear the door so I know Rob's walking back into the bar. “Thanks Abi, are you sure you don't want me to stay? I can get ready here, as I've got my stuff.”

I shake my head. “No,” I glanced at him. “You get off, you said this morning that an early finish would be nice, take advantage while you can. When we open it will be all hands on deck, and besides, everything is all done now. All that's left is the fruit to be chopped and I'll… or we can do that on the morning we open. I've just got a few interviews to do, as you know I need to hire other people and then we are good to go,” I say.

“I know, but I meant by ten minutes,” he laughs. “Right, I'll see you later then, all bright, breezy and bushy-tailed. Enjoy the rest of your day Abi. I'll see you later.” With that, he throws his bag over his shoulder, turns and walks out the main door.

I walk around the bar, sit down and take a deep breath. I look around at what I've accomplished, feeling proud. Warmth fills my belly as I smile to myself. Sitting here, I say a quiet thank you to my parents. Oh, how I miss them. I can hear dad in my ear, 'do us a rum and black and don't tell your mother'. And mom, telling me how wonderful this place is. I know they would both be overjoyed.

The nerves are starting to kick in, making my stomach turn uneasy. I stand and walk over to the corner of the room, where a beautiful grand piano stands. I've only had one person submit an application. I really do hope that they are interested and not timewasters. But either way, I can't wait to hear someone play it.

Chapter Two

After making myself a cup of tea, I sit at one of the tables facing the door so I can see who walks in. I have my pen and notebook along with some application forms. My first appointment is with Mary. I'm not going to lie, I'm nervous. I've never done interviews before, but there is always a first time for everything. I mean Rob only got the job because he said he worked here before and had bar experience, did he? I've no idea but he seems to be doing okay. I always take people at face value. I smile to myself, thinking he could have done me over. I never even checked his references. But with that said I let out a snigger at my thoughts. He ain't a bad-looking man, he's 33 and from what I can tell a few people that know him tell me that he is a good man, looks after himself, maybe by going to the gym. I have never seen the fascination. I'm staring into space. Why my thoughts are going to Rob, I've no idea, but it needs to stop. No fraternising with the staff, my own rule that I must adhere to.

“Hello, excuse me, are you Abigail?”

I jump at the voice, startled as I didn’t hear the door. I curse him and myself for making me lose track of time. I compose myself as I look up to see a young girl, she can be no older than twenty. Her brown hair is up in a messy bun, but it still looks good on her. She's wearing a tartan skirt above the knee with thick black tights and a pair of Doc Martens. I can't see her top as her black jacket is covering her up. I smile at her as she starts to walk towards me. I glance down at my watch. She's ten minutes early. Standing up, my tummy is turning over in excitement at my first-ever interview.

“Hi, yes I am and you are?” I ask to make sure I have the right person.

“Mary.”

My hands have gone all sweaty so I wipe them down the side of my black jeans. I put my hand out to shake hers.

“Hi Mary,” and I gesture for her to take a seat opposite me as I sit back down. I ask her a bit about herself and what she knows about bar work or, more to the point, cocktails. She hands me her application form and I scan over it. At first glance it looks very impressive. We discuss start dates, shift patterns, wages and booked holidays.

“So, as you can imagine, being in the bar trade we have to be inventive. I've made a few cocktails myself. They go along with all the main ones and they are on the menu. What I'd like to propose is once a month we have a special where the bar staff make one up. As part of your interview I'd like you to make a drink for me. What's today's special?” Mary seems a little anxious. “I'll have one of those,” I point towards a blackboard with the name of a cocktail on it. “Knock yourself out.”

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