Page 59 of Kate and Clara's Curious Cornish Craft Shop
Julian looks horrified by this suggestion, but I simply smile at him. ‘Come on, let’s have a wander.’
Sadly, I’d underestimated just how busy the restaurants are in St Felix on a Saturday evening and we are turned away apologetically at every door.
‘Let’s try The Merry Mermaid,’ I say. ‘If they can’t fit us in then it really will be chips on a bench, I’m afraid. They don’t reserve tables so we might get lucky if someone is just leaving.’
We are lucky. As we push our way through the busy bar I spy a couple standing up about to leave. ‘Would you mind getting us a drink, and I’ll grab that table,’ I tell a bemused-looking Julian. ‘A Diet Coke with ice would be great, thanks.’
Julian, clearly feeling incredibly awkward, politely pushes his way nearer to the throng at the bar while I grab the small table by the window.
A young waiter comes over to clear the dirty plates and glasses.
‘Busy in here this evening,’ I say, making conversation.
‘Manic,’ he says. ‘I’ve not stopped all evening. Have you eaten here before?’
‘Yes, I have.’
‘Good, then you know you need to order your food at the bar and we’ll bring it over to you.’
‘I do, thank you. It’s Leo, isn’t it?’ I ask, recognising the young man as one of Molly’s school friends.
‘Yes.’ He looks hesitantly back at me. ‘Oh, you’re Molly’s mum, aren’t you?’
‘I am. I didn’t know you worked here, Leo.’
‘Yeah, summer job, innit. I’m starting to regret it already though if it’s going to be like this every weekend.’
‘At least your evening won’t drag.’
‘Barely time for my feet to touch the ground, let alone drag!’ he says grimacing. ‘Here’s a new menu,’ he says, popping one on the table. ‘Like I said, order at the bar and I’ll be back later with your food.’ He gives the table one last wipe, then carries the empty plates and glasses away to the kitchen.
I wait for Julian to bring our drinks over, feeling slightly guilty I’d abandoned him at the bar. Julian didn’t strike me as the type to frequent pubs. I’m sure he was much more used to having his order taken at his table and then being brought a vintage bottle of wine to sample, before deciding whether to accept it.
Eventually he finds his way back to me, carrying a glass of Diet Coke and what looks like a gin and tonic.
‘What an ordeal,’ he says, putting the drinks on the table. ‘Having to fight your way through a crowd to purchase a beverage, and then fight your way to a table to drink it. I feel like I’ve gone back in time to a bawdy sixteenth-century tavern.’
I smile as he pulls back the chair and sits down. ‘You don’t go to many pubs then?’
‘Can you tell?’ he says, pulling a wry expression.
‘Just a tad!’
We smile at each other. Julian obviously has a sense of humour hidden under all his pomposity.
‘Always good to experience new things though,’ Julian says, lifting his glass. ‘Especially in such very pretty company. Here’s to a pleasant evening.’
‘And new experiences,’ I say, lifting my own glass.
‘Oh, I do hope so,’ Julian adds, lifting his eyebrows suggestively at me as he takes a sip from his glass.
I hurriedly take a sip from my own. I could see this being a very long evening indeed.
*
Julian, surprisingly, is actually quite pleasant company. He’s witty and amusing. He listens when I talk. He’s more courteous than anyone I’ve ever met.
It takes him a while to get over the fact that we’re going to eat in a pub – on a table without a cloth – and that we have to get up to order our food at the bar. When Leo brings our cutlery wrapped in paper napkins, in a basket with packets of ketchup, mustard, vinegar, pepper and salt, his eyes widen for a few seconds but he chooses not to say anything.
