Twist Of Fate

Two

CHLOE

It is almost a fortnight before the dark-haired stranger - Harry - comes into the pub again. He enters alone this time, and I catch his eye almost immediately as he crosses the threshold, wiping his feet on the threadbare mat and letting the door bang shut behind him. I notice Katie watching him as he makes his way across the lounge towards the bar, hurrying to finish serving her customer with an urgency in her demeanour I have never seen before.

This brief moment of realisation sends a wave of smugness to the pit of my stomach, and I maintain eye contact with Harry as he approaches me, ready to take his order knowing full well Katie wants to serve him herself but isn't yet free.

"What can I get you?" I ask cheerfully.

"Pint."

Ah. A man of few words.

I take his lead and lean down silently to pick up a glass from the shelf, flipping it over and bringing it under the pump. I deliberately keep my eyes fixed on the lager filling the glass, tipping it upright at the last moment to capture the right amount of foam before setting it down in front of him. "Three fifty, please."

I attempt another smile, but feel my cheeks burning as he looks at me with a sneer and hands me a five pound note.

It wouldn't kill you to smile, is on the tip of my tongue, and I silently will myself to say it out loud as I drop the note into the till and bring back one fifty change, but my courage fails me of course, and he takes the coins from me without a word and turns away from me to sit at the same table as last time. I watch his back for a moment, and I am so lost in thought that I jump when Katie bangs a couple of dirty glasses on the bar next to me with a clatter.

"Shit!"

She says nothing, but glowers as she collects another couple of empties, carrying four in each hand now, and disappears backwards into the kitchen, pushing the door open with her backside as she goes, her face like thunder and deliberately avoiding eye contact with me.

My heart rate quickens, as it always does when I am faced with any form of possible confrontation. I can't help thinking she is furious with me for serving Harry, yet I have no clue why and I don't have the courage to ask. And at the same time, I feel unashamedly victorious at getting one over on her, after all the times she has put me down or laughed at me behind my back (and to my face). If the reason for her fury is something I have done, I know I will pay for it throughout the duration of my shift.

As if this isn't bad enough, my evening takes a turn for the worse when ten minutes later Chris enters the bar with his usual air of arrogance. Thankfully I am collecting glasses so Katie is forced to serve him. I know from experience that she can handle his chauvinistic attitude far better than I can, so I feel no guilt at taking a little longer than necessary to return the empties to the kitchen before taking up my place behind the bar again. Chris is sitting safely opposite Harry by this time, and I enjoy almost an hour of serving without disruption as the early evening rush sets in.

Around eight o'clock Chris stands up to get another round in, and makes a beeline for me. I feel a flutter of panic. He hasn't yet made any sort of derogatory comment towards me, which means one is definitely due. I feel Harry's eyes watching me as Chris approaches the bar, and out of the corner of my eye I see a faint smirk on his lips and my heart sinks as I wonder what is coming.

"No need to look so nervous, Chloe," Chris says silkily as I look up to meet his gaze.

"What can I get you?"

If I ignore his attempts to rattle me, maybe he will leave me alone.

"Depends what's on offer," he leers, the corner of his mouth curling up as his eyes roam my chest.