Tequila & Tea Bags (8 page)

‘Yeah. It's one of Betty’s.’ I do a little twirl, revelling in the attention.

He furrows his brows in concern. ‘You know you shouldn’t get too attached t’ residents, right?’

‘What? One minute you’re telling me how much they mean to you, the next I shouldn’t be too nice. Which is it Will?’ His moods are giving me whiplash.

‘I just want you to be careful,’ he warns. ‘I don’t want anyone thinking you’re treating her favourably.’

God, he’s a job’s worth.

I roll my eyes. ‘Okay, whatever, Will.’ I turn back to the dressage. Or as I like to call it, ‘gay horse dancing’. I can't actually believe this thing is considered a sport. I mean, we’re all dressed up to the nines, trying to keep straight faces, while horses dance to Night Fever. It’s ridiculous.

‘Sorry.’

I turn to face him in shock. Did he just say that? He’s admitting he’s sorry? Wowzas.

‘I’m just a bit stressed today.’ He touches his forehead as if to show how stressed.

‘Why? What’s up?’ I shouldn’t care, but I do. Something draws me to him. I think it’s because he’s James’ brother.

He looks at me questionably, as if wondering whether or not to tell me. ‘Can you keep a secret?’ he whispers.

I shrug. ‘I suppose.’

He laughs. ‘Don’t fill me with confidence or anything!’

‘Sorry. Brownie swear.’ I nod, holding up my palm.

He leans in a little closer and I try not to notice my heart start to beat faster at his unique scent. He smells so good. Like mint and soap.

‘The home’s in trouble.’

Not what I was expecting. Although I’m not sure what I
was
expecting.

‘We’ve had our funding cut by the council. We’ve now got to run with only twenty percent funding or we’ll be forced to shut down.’

‘What? How the hell are you going to raise the money?’ I ask, a little frantic. Does this mean the incentive programme is cancelled? How else am I going to get to Mexico?

‘I’ve no idea. We can't let it close. The home has been open since the war. They decided to leave it open so that local residents wouldn’t have to sell their houses, but they’ve obviously realised how that’s not a money maker. We’ll either have to raise the money or close down.’

‘So, wait. Is that why they’ve done this incentive programme?’ It’s all starting to make sense now.

‘Yep. Trying to encourage more volunteers.’

‘Oh,
Will!
’ a female voice sings over his shoulder.

We both turn to face a girl about our age. She’s got long, glossy red hair which tumbles into loose curls at the ends and dark brown eyes which seem to be looking accusingly towards us. Her bright red lips pout at me. Who
is
this bitch?

‘Alright, hun,’ Will smiles; it doesn’t fully meet his eyes. ‘You should meet Rose.’ He turns to me. ‘Rose, this is Riley.’

Riley plasters on the nicest and fakest smile ever and shakes my hand, her bony manicured fingers making my hands feel huge and manly.

‘So nice to meet you! I’ve been hearing a lot about you,’ she gushes.

I blush, wondering if she means good or bad, but quickly recover. I don’t want this bitch to know she’s affecting me.

‘I bet,’ I smile. ‘Not much ever seems to happen around here, so I must be big news.’

‘Anyway.’ She turns to Will and puts her hand possessively on his shoulder. It annoys me more than it should. ‘We’re going back to Andy’s for a drink.’

‘Okay. I’ll meet you there,’ he says coolly, not averting his gaze from me. It makes me feel edgy.

She looks back at me and seems to change, suddenly appearing friendly.

‘We should have coffee sometime.’ She seems like she genuinely means it. How confusing. I nod noncommittally.

‘Actually, Rose now works at the pub, so I’m sure you’ll bump into each other,’ Will adds, seemingly pleased that I’m making a friend.

‘Great,’ we both say at the same time. She smiles before walking off. Maybe I judged her too soon.

I wonder who the hell she is to Will? All of that touching. Is she his girlfriend?

‘Girlfriend?’ I blurt out as soon as she’s out of ear shot.

He scrunches his forehead, then grins. ‘Ex-girlfriend.’

That’s pretty bloody friendly for an ex, if you ask me. There’s an awkward pause while I think of something to say.

‘So…do you like the horses?’ he asks with a shy smile.

Is he…trying to keep me talking? Surely he should be rushing off to that drinks party. I wish he’d invite me. I’m gagging for a drink. I’m just going to go home and have cheese on toast with Elsie.

‘They’re alright.’ I pretend to inspect a chipped nail. They’re painted perfectly. I don’t have anything else to do around here but groom myself.

He snorts, a smug smile on his face. ‘I take it you never had a horse growing up?’

‘A horse growing up? No, I didn’t grow up in the Little House on the Prairie.’ Unless he can count my enormous My Little Pony collection.

He looks offended. ‘I had a horse.’

‘Of
course
you did,’ I nod sarcastically. ‘I’m sure King William also had servants.’

He rolls his eyes. ‘It's my mum’s horse. Well, it
was
my mum’s horse.’ His tone turns dejected.

‘Did the horse die?’ I ask carefully.

‘No. My mum did.’

My eyes shoot up to meet his steely gaze. Oh holy fucking shit balls. That’s it Rose, insult his dead mother. What the hell is wrong with me?

‘Shit. I’m sorry.’ Could I feel any worse?

‘Don’t worry,’ he says dismissively. ‘I still have the horse though. She made me promise.’

Made him promise? She must have known she was dying then. I wonder how long ago she died. Seeing the pain in his eyes, even for a second, before he covers it back up with his proud mask makes me too afraid to ask.

My phone beeps and I take it out of my bra, glad for the distraction.

Hey, sexy bum, fancy round two? I have your bra…

I blush, even though Will can't see what’s written. What a booty call. I can't believe James just expects me to drop everything and go shag him. What an arse. But then I realise James also lost his mum. Maybe it's made him afraid to get close to women. It would make sense.

‘Although I think I may have to sell her,’ he continues.

I look up at him, confused. Sell who?

‘The horse,’ he nods, as if reading my mind.

‘Why would you do that? Surely she reminds you of your mum.’

‘She does, but I just don’t have the time to look after her. A lady at the stables would muck her out and ride her every day, but now she’s moving and I can't afford to pay someone.’

An overwhelming sadness settles over me. The one thing that reminds him of his mum being forced away from him after he promised her on her death bed to keep it. It’s too tragic for words.

‘I’ll do it,’ I blurt out, my mouth working before my brain.

‘What?’ He looks at me suspiciously.

Yeah, WHAT? Why the hell did I say that? I don’t want to do that.

‘You have experience with horses?’

‘Yeah, yeah,’ I nod, trying not to meet his eye and hoping he doesn’t want me to elaborate.

He looks shocked. ‘That would be…amazing. Ta. You’re sure?’ He smiles, his dimple coming out to greet me again.

‘Err…yeah.’ I should have probably thought about this a little longer, but I can't let him down now. I can't let that dimple down.

‘Great. Do you want to meet her tomorrow?’ He seems excited.

‘Yeah…great.’ I smile. I’m already texting James back.

On my way x

I need him to fuck some sense into me.

‘Fucking…amazing,’ James pants, his body still crushing mine into the mattress.

I smile despite my worry. I mean, will I
ever
orgasm? Was I cursed as a baby or something? Did that scary guy that came for Harry Potter come for me instead, but decided it would be crueller to never let me achieve the one thing I want. All I bloody hear about is everyone having them. I can't open a magazine without seeing top ten ways to achieve the best orgasm. None of them work. Not on me anyway. I’m the only girl in the world who’s never had an orgasm. But I still enjoy it, don’t get me wrong.

‘I should go.’ I get up and put my bra on quickly, careful for him not to steal it again.

I don’t know what it was about this time, but it felt wrong. Maybe it was the fact that I was all dressed up and he couldn’t even be bothered to leave the house. He just had to send a quick text and I came running with my tail wagging. How pathetic.

‘See you soon,’ he says, his arm over his face. He’s already starting to fall asleep, his breathing slowing and becoming steady.

By the time I’m dressed and have reached the door I can hear his snores. Why am I such a bloody whore?

***

Sunday 12
th
October

I walk into the field the next morning, feeling ridiculously self-conscious. I mean, I had
no
idea what to wear, so I decided on jeans, my black hoodie, scarf and Elsie’s UGG boots.

‘Alright, Rosie!’ a jovial voice sings.

I spin around with a glare, ready to kill him, only he looks super-hot. He’s wearing a checked flannel shirt with a black padded gilet. He’s got a thick red scarf around his neck, which only seems to accentuate his green eyes.

‘Don’t call me that!’ I snap as my cheeks redden. I lower my face to the floor in an attempt to hide it. Why am I being so bashful?

‘Sorry, it's
Rosemary
, right?’ His eyes twinkle in amusement.

I ignore him, choosing to jut out my jaw to show my annoyance instead. He only seems to find it funnier.  

‘Come on. Let’s introduce you to Mitsy.’ He grabs my hand and pulls me along after him, almost pulling my arm out of its socket.

It feels weird to have my hand in his, but it's also too comfy and warm for me to object. It’s smooth too, unlike James’ calloused ones. He’s obviously never done a hard day’s work in his life.

‘Are you nervous?’ he asks, glancing back at me, not breaking from his huge strides. I’m practically running after him or I’d be dragged, face down against the grass. I have a feeling he still wouldn’t stop.

He looks back at me again, this time with a quizzical expression. He must think I’m acting weird. I hope my hands not sweaty.

‘Don’t worry,’ he smiles reassuringly. ‘She’s going to love you.’

Ah, he must think I’m agitated about meeting the horse. Come to think of it, I am. I don’t have the first bloody clue about horses. He’s going to think I’m an idiot.

I attempt a deep breath, suddenly feeling as nervous as he described. I stop when I collide with his back.

‘Ow.’ I rub my forehead.

He turns and smiles at me, clearly amused. I look around him to see that we’re in front of a small stable. It stinks of poo. Let’s hope the horse doesn’t smell this bad.

He leads me over to it and goes towards a dark chocolate horse.

‘This is Mitsy.’ She has the brightest blonde hair contrasting it. It's almost as if she’s had highlights. What a bloody gorgeous horse. Who knew they could actually be stylish? Then I look down and see that she’s wearing a onesie. A onesie?

‘Err…why on earth is she wearing a onesie?’ I can't keep the laugh out of my voice.

‘They’re her pyjamas,’ he says, his eyes seemingly serious.

‘Horses wear pyjamas?’ How weird. ‘
And
they dance?’ I can't help but blurt out.

He chuckles loudly. ‘Yep. Just like you and me.’ He rolls his eyes. ‘Come and say hi.’

I realise I haven’t moved and I’m still some way away from her. A quick stab of fear hits my chest, bringing with it a quickening heartbeat. I slowly walk towards her, cautious not to trip and head butt her by accident. That would
really
be a first impression.

I stand in front of her, looking to Will for encouragement. She starts sniffing and making weird noises, her big mouth moving towards me. Shit! She’s going to eat me.

‘Here, give her a polo,’ he offers, handing one over.

I instinctively put it flat in the centre of my palm and shyly offer it to her with a shaking hand. She grabs it from me, her tongue saturating my hand. Ugh, gross. I wipe it on my jeans, unable to hide my disgust.

‘She likes you,’ he smiles, contentedly stroking her hair.

‘She likes polo’s more like.’ I laugh nervously.

I tentatively reach up to her hair and lightly stroke it, accidentally brushing Will’s fingers. My skin burns at the contact. I quickly move my hand away. I feel her skin and the warmth that comes from it is weirdly comforting. She’s an actual living little thing. Not so little actually.

‘So what’s the plan with saving the home?’ I ask, trying to quickly get over the awkwardness. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Well, in between the sex. Where will all the residents go? Will they be left homeless?

‘Plan?’ he asks, seeming shocked. He shakes his hand. ‘I don’t have a plan.’

‘Just as I thought,’ I nod. ‘So I think we should arrange some events to raise some money. What do you think?’

‘Okay.’ He nods, deep in thought. ‘You get the ball rolling on something and I’ll support you any way I can.’

I smile shyly. Why on earth do I feel shy? I’m never bloody shy. I look back at Mitsy, the size of her registering to me what a massive chore I’ve taken on.

‘So what exactly do I need to do with this horse?’

***

Why the hell did I volunteer to do this? I don’t even bloody like Will and here I am working like a dog, just so that I can look after his horse. For free. In my spare time. What a doughnut. And why I ever thought wearing Elsie’s UGGs was a good idea is beyond me. It's so muddy up here, they’re bloody soaked. She’s going to kill me. I cannot wait to go home and get in the shower. My muscles are so sore and heavy. I don’t get how horse riders don’t look like supermodels. It’s a serious workout.

‘Right,’ Will says, breaking me out of my destructive thoughts, ‘there’s only one more thing to do.’

My heart sinks. I literally cannot do another single thing or I might just die here on the floor. My muscles are screaming in agony every time I move. And I have to work at the pub tonight.

‘Don’t look so horrified,’ he grins. ‘I was just going to ask if you wanted to ride her.’

‘Ride her?’ I look up at the giant horse in apprehension. ‘I don’t know,’ I waver. ‘Maybe you should just ride her today and I’ll do it next time.’

He suddenly turns away from me. ‘I don’t ride her,’ he says sadly. He turns back to face me, his eyes glazing over with some memory.

‘Why not?’ I blurt out. What’s the point of having a horse if you don’t ride it?

I wonder if he had a horrific accident and it's mentally scarred him for life. He doesn’t seem to have any physical scars.

‘I just…I haven’t been able to ride her. Since…since my mum died.’ He looks to the floor, his hand raking through his wayward hair.

Oh God. He looks so forlorn. I want to hug him, but I pull myself back before I become a complete hippie weirdo that walks around hugging people. That’s so far from me. God, am I turning into Elsie? I shiver at the thought.  

‘Anyway.’ He shakes his head and runs his hand over the back of his neck. ‘Maybe we should go for a drink. You know, so I can thank you for taking this on.’

Go for a drink? Is he serious?

‘Oh.’

Hasn’t he seen how disgusting I look? I haven’t got a mirror, but it's pretty obvious with my wet UGGs, starting to frizz hair and smudged mascara. He made me cry when I had to pick up the horse poo. God, it was revolting. Although now I’ve picked up so much of it I almost feel immune.

‘Don’t sound too excited,’ he smirks. ‘You’ll break my ego.’

Ego? What is he talking about? Is he…asking me out? As in…wants me? As in…likes me? No, I don’t think so. That couldn’t be possible. The guy’s just relished in my agony all day long. Is he a sadist? But he looks so disappointed and his cheeks are turning rosy in embarrassment.

‘No, it's just that I probably stink of horse poo,’ I laugh, trying to diffuse the awkwardness.

‘You definitely stink of horse poo,’ he grins. ‘But I was going to suggest a shower first.’

My eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. The thought of Will naked, soaping himself up invades my mind. I can feel my cheeks redden as if he can read my mind. What a dirty pervert I am. I wonder what he’s like in bed. Probably just like James. Stop it!

‘Not together!’ he says loudly, laughing awkwardly. ‘Obviously
separately.
’

‘Obviously.’ I look away, my cheeks burning, one blush blending into the other. ‘But…I’m pretty tired. I should probably…you know…I’ve got work later.’ I start backing away, trying to ignore the pull I feel towards him.

‘Oh yeah, of course,’ he smiles. ‘I’m pretty tired too.’

Why is it suddenly so awkward? And why do I feel bad for turning him down? This is all becoming weird. I say my goodbyes and run off as quickly as I can.

The sooner I get to Mexico the better.

***

I lean on the bar later that evening, listening to Trevor reading out the quiz questions. It's a quiz night, teams consisting of six people, desperately trying to work out who won the Eurovision song contest in 1989.

God, this is bloody boring. Plus this endless time to think is making me crazy. I still can't think why things suddenly shifted with Will. I went from hating him and his ridiculous anal, bossy ways to finding out he is slightly normal. And then I don’t know what it was; maybe being with Mitsy, seeing him being normal with another creature. It was kind of endearing.

But why did I get so scared when he asked me for a drink? I mean, he was only trying to thank me. Janey and I go for drinks all the time and I don’t expect her to jump me. Although she has a few times when she’s been truly smashed. The girl’s a part-time lesbian.

The truth is I don’t even know if Will likes me like that. What am I saying? I
know
he doesn’t like me like that. He probably thinks I’m just some silly slut. Maybe he thought I’d be easy and he fancied a quick shag. Yeah, that sounds more plausible. Assuming I’d be up for it.  

I’m broken from my thoughts by Phil calling my name.

‘Rose, love, it's quiet tonight. I need to pop out to see someone. Can you hold down the fort?’ he asks, scratching his nearly bald head.

‘Err, yeah, that’s fine.’ Wow, this guy has trust. I barely know the man, but I suppose that’s small village stupidity for you. I doubt a crime’s ever taken place here. I’ve never even seen a police man.

‘Good,’ he nods. ‘Normally I wouldn’t leave you so soon, but you’ve got so much experience, I’m sure you’ll be fine.’

Oh crap. My big mouth getting me in trouble again.

‘Of course! Thanks. Have a good time!’ I shout, sounding shrill and unnatural.

I look around as he leaves. Why am I freaking out? They’re all just sitting there doing this stupid quiz anyway.

‘We’re going to take a quick break for a drink and so you can use the loos,’ Trevor says into the microphone, which is completely unnecessary.  

Teams start coming up to the bar, all eager to get a drink within the break. Then the football team comes in the front door. Suddenly it's as if there’s a stampede at the bar. Everyone wants a drink and they want it now. I try to keep up, but it's hard when they’re all ordering four drinks at once.

  I’m pouring a Carlsberg when it suddenly comes to a halt. What the hell? I hit the beer tap with hope that it’ll start again. Shit, it's run out. I look up, right into the eyes of Will. I start, unsure as to whether I’m hallucinating him.

‘Nah then,’ he smiles knowingly. ‘Need some help?’

I look back pleadingly. ‘Err…its run out,’ is all I can seem to blurt out. I’m aware I sound like a bumbling idiot, but I’m too hot and flustered to think straight.

‘Want me to cover while you change the barrel?’ he asks, already opening the hatch to step behind the bar.

Change the barrel? Of course that’s what I need to do. Duh. I’m sure it's easy. Right?

‘That is unless…’ he looks at me questionably, ‘you do
know
how to change a barrel, right?’

‘Yes!’ I shrill, a little too defensively.

I hate how he just assumes I’m an idiot. I mean, I
am
, but that’s beside the point.

‘Good.’ He walks up to a couple at the bar and shoos me off.

I walk into the back and finally find the cellar room. Thank God it’s not actually underground, it’s just out back. I shiver, the temperature lower than the rest of the place making my nipples zing to attention. The barrels make a weird buzzing sound, so loud I can't think straight. Right, let’s assess this.