“That’s standard barman etiquette. He’s the same with you.”
“The jokey conversations might be the same, but his eyes don’t sparkle when he looks at me.”
“They don’t when he looks at me! And weirdly enough I’m not that keen to make a fool of myself on my birthday.”
“If it weren’t for Noah you wouldn’t even be bothered about going to the pub tonight. We’d be going into town. In fact, if we got there and he wasn’t working, I bet you’d change your mind about where we spent the evening.”
“No, I wouldn’t,” Keira replied weakly, but the thought that he might not be working didn’t sit well. “He always works on Sundays. Why wouldn’t he be working?”
“I’m right.” Mel pointed an accusatory finger. “Heis the reason you want to go to the Flute and Fiddle.”
“No! I want to go there because we always go there. It’s convenient. And what’s more entertaining than making fun of people who can’t carry a tune?”
“That’s a good point.” Mel headed for the kitchen. “Go and make yourself pretty for Noah while I cook.”
As she walked away, Keira’s protests that she didn’t even like Noah were half-hearted to say the least.
* * *
Like every Sunday evening, Noah continually glanced at the door until Keira and Mel arrived. He’d worked at the Flute and Fiddle for ten months. He supposed they’d been coming into the pub all that time, but it was only in the last few months he’d really noticed Keira. He’d even swapped his shifts to ensure he was always working on Fridays and Sundays – the nights they usually came into the pub.
With hindsight, he should have asked her out months ago, but he’d told himself there was no point. Why start something when you knew it wouldn’t go anywhere? For her sake, as well as his, he hadn’t made a move, but it grew increasingly difficult every time he saw her.
He was ringing a food order into the till when Mel’s voice got his attention.
“Have you seen the weather forecast for next week, Noah?” she asked, the familiar ring of teasing in her tone.
“I haven’t checked,” he told her over his shoulder.
“It’s supposed to rain on Tuesday afternoon but only light showers, nothing that’s going to cause a flood. No need to get your ark out.”
He turned and smiled, catching Keira’s eye. “That’s a relief. I don’t really have time for rounding up animals this week.” The Noah’s Ark jokes should have been annoying, but he enjoyed the banter. “How are you two this evening?”
“Fine,” Keira said, pushing her glossy brown hair over her shoulder. “Ready to put our judging skills to use.”
“You know that’s not really the point of karaoke?” Though if he was honest, their sarcastic commentary was the highlight of his Sunday nights.
“It’s exactly the point of karaoke,” Keira argued. “If people didn’t want to be judged, they wouldn’t get up on stage and sing.”
“Fair point. What can I get you to drink?”
“What’s a good birthday drink?” Mel asked.
“Is it your birthday?”
“Not mine – Keira’s.”
“Oh.” He felt oddly side-swiped, as though he should have somehow known. “Happy birthday! I guess this round is on me. Do you want to go crazy and have cocktails?”
“Go on then,” Keira said. “Surprise us.”
To his annoyance, customers were waiting to be served once he’d given them their drinks and he barely had a chance to speak to them for the next couple of hours. Even with four staff behind the bar, they were rushed off their feet. He could never fathom what it was about karaoke that drew such a crowd.
Being so busy also had the disadvantage that Keira and Mel moved to a table instead of propping up the bar.
Things were starting to quieten down when Mel frantically beckoned him over to the table. Keira was nowhere to be seen.
“What’s up?” he asked, going over to her.