Goosebumps pinged all over River’s forearms. It was all he could do to not tug at his sleeves. Terry must have noticed them too, dotting his skin with the appearance of a plucked chicken.
“Oh that,” he laughed a little too nervously. “Stupid printers, they mucked up, not sure how it happened, but well, next time I redo the menu, everything will all be squashed back together again.”
“I rather think that’s a shame, makes a drink look more intriguing when it stands out.” Terry sniffed at the air again as if considering his options.
“True, true.” River nodded, wondering how he was going to potentially dart to the skittle alley without anybody noticing on such a busy night – that was if Terry did take the plunge.
“I’m not saying I’m a convert to these drinks. God rest my father’s soul, he’d turn in his grave if he could see me now, call me a right old poof.” River cringed for the second time, hoping Terry would quickly get to the point, either settle his nerves or fire them into action. “But there is a certain finesse that I quite enjoy when it comes to a cocktail. And fair play, not just anyone can throw ‘em together. That’s why I’m so proud of our George for seeing that course through.” River flashed a strained and pearly white smile at Terry, furious with himself now for letting both Georgina and her father pin her future financial and professional life on him.
“She never finished that BTEC at college,” Terry was on a roll though, “despite all her interest in business, and the job she had waiting for her if she’d only just knuckle down. T’were the boys, you see. Always is – that and her impatience for a bit of pocket money… and those owners in the organic café in town who made her feel like they couldn’t run the show without her. But she’s come good in the end. And I can’t thank you enough, my man, for the part you’ve played in that.”
“Hey, don’t mention it, Tel,” River punched the air playfully with a fist. And although he knew the moment had no choice but to present itself soon enough, right now he didn’t have the heart to remove the golden halo Terry had placed upon his daughter’s rebellious head, nipping proceedings firmly in the bud as Alice had so sensibly suggested.
“Anyways, what will I have? Hmm…” he flicked through the pages quickly, like a child entranced by one of those books full of ‘moving illustrations’, an early attempt at a cartoon. Who did that with a menu? “A Magicalone of them… or something else?” he questioned himself.
River could never have imagined such a quick succession of willing participants, but it appeared that no sooner had Cassandra made herself volunteer number one, than Terry was stepping forward to take up second place.
“Nope, can’t think of anything better. I like me Tequila – just a little mind, I like me Sherry too, and an OJ a day, well I reckon that’s what keeps the doctor away, never mind the apple.”
So that was that then: two down, only one more to go.