Mary bent to help. ‘I expected nothing less. That's why I’m half an hour early. I’m here to get you sorted.’ She passed the bits she picked up from the floor into Ava’s hands. ‘Now you go and get cleaned up, and I’ll find you something to wear.’
‘Really?’ Ava smiled and didn't wait for a reply as she hurried through to the back of the shop trying to ignore everything else calling out for her attention. The display was done; even with that job sorted, one of many she knew she still had to do, Ava felt keener to go out than she had earlier in the day.
With the image of Mary, looking stunning in mind, Ava felt that a quick wash, retouching her make-up and attempting to tame her hair was a bit of a poor effort. Looking at her dishevelled self in the mirror, she wished she had at least spent a bit of time sourcing what she was going to wear. Running a charity shop meant there was a host of clothes from across the decades at her disposal, but it also meant there was no guarantee as to precisely what those clothes might be or look like at any given time. As she began to wonder what on earth she might be heading to the pub in, Mary tapped on the toilet door. Taking in the sight of the outfit in Mary's hands, Ava smiled.
‘Blimey, you’re good!’
‘I know!’ Mary giggled. ‘Now get those on and let’s get you out of here.’
* * *
Less than thirty minutes later, Ava was dressed, had scraped her hair into a high ponytail and curled her fringe under using her brush and the hand drier in the toilet. Despite being restricted by their outfits, she and Mary did their best to run across the cobbled street and round the corner to The Brown Dog, avoiding puddles as they went. Before entering, Ava turned to Mary. ‘You look amazing by the way, and I love the shoes.’
Mary lifted her foot, smiling at her polka dot patterned, four-and-a-half-inch high-heeled sandals. ‘The shoe industry’s gain today — is your shop’s gain, tomorrow. They’re already killing me!’ Mary winked.
Ava laughed as she swung open the door to the pub.
Considering it was a small local pub that relied on the tourist trade in the summer and the revenue from the locals in the winter it was unusually busy. In contrast to the damp evening outside, the low, beamed ceiling, moderate lighting and large stone fireplace gave it a warm, welcoming feel. The ale-and-smoke-from-the-open-fire smell, which usually permeated the air was masked by the heady mix of perfume, aftershave and hair products worn by the 1950s clad clientele. Except for the hardy regulars at the bar, the men had colourful shirts and Brylcreemed hair, while most of the women wore flared skirts teamed with tight blouses, scarves and ankle socks.
Ava and Mary made their way across the flagstone floor to the bar. Ava spotted Gino at the other end in conversation and laughing with the woman he was serving. He was in his element behind the busy bar, utilising his good looks and Italian charm on all comers. Looking at him from behind Ava could tell that his black denim jeans, turned up as a homage to the 1950s, and capped-sleeve-torso-hugging T-shirt, revealed every flex of his toned muscles as he moved. Pushing away the thought that perhaps Mary was right when she had repeatedly told her that a night with Gino might be just what she needed, Avareminded herself that taking things further with him would be a mistake. He wasn’t the type that she usually went for, and they had already moved into the friend zone. Negotiating their relationship out of it for a night of naked abandonment made no sense.Did it?
Mary nudged Ava out of her Gino evoked daydream as Pauline, the barmaid, approached.
‘Seen something you fancy, ladies?’ Pauline, known locally as The Oracle, smiled and lifted an eyebrow.
Ava hoped the flush she could feel spreading across her cheeks wasn’t as obvious as it felt. Pauline would undoubtedly read too much into it and share her thoughts and erroneous opinions around the village. ‘Umm, I—’
Mary giggled. ‘I’ll get the drinks in. Why don't you nab us that table?’ Mary gestured towards a table between the bar and fireplace. It offered a good view of the room without being so near the jukebox they wouldn't be able to hear each other.
Ava settled herself at the table. The heavy curtain that normally separated the extra dining spaces from the bar had been tied back. The mismatched tables and chairs had been moved, and a makeshift dance floor created in their space. Gino had clearly gone to a lot of trouble to make the evening a success.
Ava watched those brave enough to take to the dance floor; some looked like they’d been jiving for years. Their movements were fast and fluid, every step in unison with their partners. It came as no surprise to her that she didn't recognise most of the faces. For the inhabitants of Dapplebury to be this good at jiving there would have to be a secret dance society meeting up regularly for covert practice, but Dapplebury didn’t have secrets. It was the type of place where everybody knew everybody else and their business.
Chapter Three
Henry sat at the end of the bar, lifted his baseball cap and rubbed his hand across his forehead, trying to clear the fog from his mind. He wasn’t sure if it was jet lag setting in, or the fact that he was back in Dapplebury, that was causing his head to throb. Finding himself in the middle of what seemed like a fancy dress party for people old enough to know better, wasn’t helping; especially when all he wanted was a moment to be himself and a cold beer before facing his parents. He remembered The Brown Dog to be a quiet place. There was nothing quiet about it this evening. The music, the clientele and their clothes were all too loud.
Glancing around, Henry could see few people he recognised. Five years was a long time, but he thought it unlikely that so many new faces had moved into the village. He knew it wasn’t the type of place that welcomed newcomers with open arms,any more than it embraces change. It was more likely that the event had drawn in people from out of the area. While Henry didn’t appreciate the homage to the 1950s he could appreciate the initiative; the need to attract new life into the village and to make the most of the revenue that brought was apparent even before he went away.
As for those few who weren’t strangers, those he knew from his past, Henry was grateful his years away, his baseball cap, collar-length hair and beard were offering him anonymity. He didn’t want people to recognise him until he found his feet again. He needed time to readjust before he faced the backlash he anticipated from the community, especially his father’s old stalwarts.
Henry drained his glass and began to gather himself to go, but as he turned from his barstool, his feet faltered. He couldn’t be sure. It had been twelve years since he had seen her, butthe red hair and the striking blue eyes sent him back to being a teenager again. She was just eight months older than him, but at sixteen Ava Flynn was a force of nature, with a mass of wild hair, unlike anyone else he knew. He remembered her scrambling through the trees in the grounds of Dapplebury House challenging him to climb higher, to skinny-dip in the lake and, on the last day they spent together, to kiss her. A heated first kiss for them both, fired by teenage hormones. He could remember how dizzy it made him feel. He could also remember the sting of the slap he got across his face when his mother caught them.
Chapter Four
Mary returned from the bar. Ava looked at the highball glasses in her hands, the opaque deep-berry liquid contrasting with the ice, the lime wedge on the rim of each glass, and the umbrella and straw adding an extra flourish.
‘I’m guessing they’re not cokes.’
‘Bay Breezes. Gino came over, said to say hello. Apparently they’re a must on a 50s night. Besides, he said these two were on the house, so I could hardly argue with that.’
Ava looked round to the bar to thank Gino. He blew her a kiss that reignited her blush, and she hastily returned her focus to the drinks. Picking hers up, she smelt it. ‘Wow, that’s fruity! What’s in it?’
‘Cranberry juice, pineapple juice, oh yeah and a whole lot of vodka.’
‘Vodka? I’ll be flat on my back.’
‘The way you were looking at Gino, I thought that might be what you wanted.’
