Page 14 of Wish You Once More
The easy mundaneness of family life was refreshing. In some ways, I wished I’d agreed to stay longer, rather than heading back up north on Monday. When I saw Scott, I needed talk to him about taking a proper break, taking some time to hang out here.
“Isn’t it time you two were headed out?” Melinda appeared in the room, a huge glass of white wine in her hand. “My dinner’s going to be here in about—” she checked her watch— “Ten minutes. And my soap’s going to start soon.”
Jonny hauled me up. “Come on, let’s go. You don’t want to watch that trash.”
“Hey!” protested Melinda. “I like that trash.”
He kissed her full on the lips. “You know I’m only joking. We won’t be late home.”
She snorted. “I don’t plan on staying up. I know only too well what happens when the Redmonds get together.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Jonny blew Melinda another kiss, and we left the house.
It only took ten minutes to walk to the pub, but along the way, I spotted a few of the local businesses had changed: what had once been a cafe was now a betting shop, there were a couple of new clothes shops and one of the banks was now a bakery.
I let out a whistle. “Things have changed since I was here at Christmas.”
“You have no idea.” Jonny pointed to one of them. “That’s been a gift shopanda nail bar in the last eight months. They only opened up as a clothes shop last week.”
There was still some familiarity to the town as we got closer to the Black Cap, our local since we were old enough to legally drink.
“We’ll get some beers, then go outside. I had Dad book a table for us,” said Jonny, pushing open the door to the bar.
“Sounds good. I’m guessing Dad’s meeting us here?” I glanced around, not seeing him anywhere.
“Yeah, he had a couple of things to take care of with arrivals, but he said he’d be here as soon as he could.”
Oliver Redmond didn’t like to let people down, and even though he had a capable deputy in the form of Jonny to rely on when needed, he still preferred to do things himself. If that meant keeping the office open until seven o’clock on the Friday before the Dart Sundowner weekend, then he would.
“Oh, did you get anywhere with finding somewhere for Scott and Rosie?” I suddenly remembered they would be here tomorrow and the thought of them not having anywhere to stay didn’t bear thinking about.
“Dad said he’d sort something. He’ll give you an update when he gets here.” Jonny waved at the girl behind the bar. “What are you drinking?”
I scanned the draft beer on offer, then glanced at the bottles in the fridges behind. “Can I get a bottle of Sol?”
“Sure.” The girl looked at me, then did a double take. “You’re Mat Redmond from Trash Gun!” she exclaimed, clapping a hand over her mouth.
It felt as if everyone inside the bar stopped talking and turned to stare at me. I never got used to the recognition, in particular when I was on home turf. But, as ever, manners got the better of me and I forced a smile. “Yep, that’s me.”
“Oh, wow! Are you here for the festival?” She busied herself getting my beer, chatting as if she’d known me for years.
I nodded and jerked a thumb in Jonny’s direction. “Playing in my brother’s band, The JRs, on Sunday.” I figured it was probably common knowledge around the town; I wasn’t talking out of turn.
She gave a cursory glance towards Jonny. “Oh, right. Not sure I’ve heard of them.”
“Then you can’t have been around here long. The JRs are a firm favourite of the festival. Played every year for as long as I can remember.” I blustered, trying to big up the band despite her apparent lack of interest.
“I’ll try and catch them. Might be working, we’ll be busy this weekend.” She banged my bottle on the bar, causing it to fizz up and bubble over. “What else can I get you?”
Jonny ordered a pint of ale, and once we’d paid, we headed out into the beer garden.
If I thought the silence inside was awkward, it paled in comparison to what happened when we walked outside.
The first person I laid eyes on, who was in the middle of a sentence containing the words ‘avoid Mat Redmond’ was Bree Sheridan.
I caught myself just before I dropped my bottle.
Our eyes locked. Her irises, that icy blue shade they had always been, studied mine. Hair which had once been honey blonde, now a cooler hue with a vibrant blue streak, pulled up in a ponytail. She sat with one leg underneath her, those golden limbs pouring out of a pair of denim shorts. Her checked shirt, with one button more undone than was absolutely necessary, gave me a glorious glimpse of her cleavage. My dick twitched—again.
