Page 86 of The Cocktail Bar
River didn’t dare clock Terry’s expression, could practically feel the steam emanating from his ears.
“Yeah,” said Hayley.
River had been wondering how long his third favourite woman in the world would be able to stay out of this.
“Your dad deserves a little happiness now… and if that’s withhismother,” she gave River a mutual nod as if to confirm his mutual ranking inherworld, “so be it. Anyways Lady Muck, from what I’ve been told, you were the one to come up with the idea of a travel group. You shot yourself in the foot there if you didn’t want Terry mixing with the women.” She threw in a laugh accompanied, of course, by a snort.
“The lady’s right, you can’t eternally blame your parents for the way life’s turned out.”
A man seated towards the back of the gathering, until now hidden completely from River’s line of vision, and, going by the look of glee on Hayley’s face, hers too, stood then.
“Everybody has a shovel load of crap to deal with at some point in their childhood,” TV Exec Bob went on. “I’m living proof of that, and look what I’ve achieved, all despite one of the most working class, broken family beginnings you could imagine.”
“He’s right.” River took over the imaginary baton he felt had been handed to him. “And at least you started out with both parents around; at least you and Blake had each other.”
Blake half-raised an eyebrow at that; sort of conceding River might have a small point.
“Look at me. I’ve probably got any number of half siblings roaming around the planet, and I’m lumbered with a father who up and left before my goddess of a mother had even popped me out – a father who, as it turns out was probably my flaming band manager, unbeknownst to either of us for over a decade, a father who could give your beloved Lord Pervert a run for his money,” the latter slipping out of River’s mouth before he could stop it, but fortunately nobody was any the wiser and so he carried on. “But what would you know, I’m actually relatively unscathed… even after all that.”
“Speaking of numbers,” Terry interrupted, “what she’s not told you is she’s hadany numberof invites out to sunny Spain from her mother. I’ve told her she should go, learn the lingo, stay a season or two, put the past behind her, and see where the wind takes her.”
“And as for him,” Terry nodded at his son, “he’s got possibilities that could turn into permanent commitments back here if he gets his act together.”
“What’s that supposed to mean, Da—?”
Terry walked to the door then, heads following him as if he were the tennis ball in a Wimbledon final, he ignored his son’s question and moments later called in a young boy, a young boy who turned out to be Blake’s son. Blake’s ex-wife trailed, protectively, not far behind him, she stood at the door with arms folded, looking on unconvinced. Ethan ran across to his dad and Blake began to sob.
It was a magical moment, all traces of anger at River’s former friend, dissolving in a heartbeat. Hurt people hurt people, and that was all there was to it.
“I’m sorry… I will sort my head out now, no more letting you down anymore, I promise… I promise you and your mum. I really will be a proper dad to you from now on.”
“Don’t get too used to this, it’s early days, and I am categorically not part of the plan,” said Blake’s ex.
“I wouldn’t worry about that, love.” Georgina just had to pipe up again, one last time. “He’s got himself a Zara now, pop next door if you want to check out the competition… might have to wait until the morning though: shop’s shut at the moment.”
“The only thing that should be shut now is your mouth!” shouted Blake, his eyes finally seeing through the malice of his sibling. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to come out with it like that… I’m just fed up with her butting into my life all the time. Dad’s right, Sis, best thing you can do for yourself now, best thing you can do for all of us is to fly out to Benidorm… tonight. Here.” He released Ethan from his embrace and walked over to Georgina, handing her a bundle of notes. “Take what you need and come back when you’ve got your head straight, but I’m inclined to say preferably never. There’s nothing for you here, all you seem to do is cause everyone grief.”
Georgina accepted the cash in her right hand, and, with the mock bump still tucked under her wing, she turned on her heel, walked out the door, and didn’t look back.
“Pains me to say it,” said Terry, “but I’m kind of hoping that’s the last I’ll see of my daughter for some years, until she’s matured, got her head screwed back on, made a life for herself. All of which is highly unlikely under the influence of the mother who had umpteen affairs when our George was a wee nipper, but still, one lives in hope.”
“You did your best, Terry,” said Heather, looping her arm in his.
“Yes, you did, Dad, you did a stellar job. I, for one, am thankful, it can’t have been easy.”
“Nothing worthwhile ever is, Son.”
“Ha, don’t thinkyou’reoff the hook already. You have a lot to prove,” Blake’s ex-wife retorted again, still reluctant to desert the frontline of the bar. “Until I’m persuaded otherwise, until the courts are too, everything’s gonna bethroughandwithyour dad, Blake. I don’t trust you without Terry. You’ve got a lot of winning back in that department to do, before I grant you any time alone with our child.”
Blake smiled, acknowledging the truth in her decision. Clearly there was a lot that both had, and hadn’t, gone on behind closed doors in their relationship. He genuinely hoped Blake would make amends, turn his life around now he had been given the chance.
Gradually, with nothing further to publicly announce, individual conversations started to spring up until they became fountains of fun. The travel agents – although only merry – had begun a worm-ish Conga, grabbing at people to join them as they wended their way around the bar, ever hopeful it would grow into a snake; Lee and Jonie were clearing away glasses, providing the last of the Irish Creams to the most recent arrivals, Blake had departed with Terry, Ethan and his ex-wife, unbelievably giving River a Hitler style salute, and perhaps more unbelievably still, not batting an eyelid at Alice, whose magic had inexplicably worn off.
Perhaps Zara really was the woman who had achieved the impossible? He’d choose to believe that anyway, just as he’d choose to interpret Blake’s extremist parting gesture as an olive branch of sorts. Heather hovered a short way behind them at the doorway, waving them off, more radiant than River remembered her ever being in any of the outlandish outfits she had donned for her processions and conventions.
Could anybody be leaving this bar on a better potential happily ever after? New beginnings called for each and every person who’d celebrated and deliberated that particular evening in December 2017. Of course, this was in no small part thanks to one group of very special Toltex Indians, in no small part thanks to one marvellously mystical woman named Mercedes – who River quickly realised shared joint third place on his Favourite Females in the World list.
Yet all of this was also, in no small part, thanks to himself for having the belief to listen to his inner voice that day almost a year ago, when it led him deep into the Mexicancampo. Despite the twists and turns that inner knowing had led to, it had proven just about the best life lesson: to think with his heart, not his head. And now, for however many years he had left on this planet, he vowed to remember it. Well, as much as was humanly possible, anyway.
