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I watch as he walks off into the pub. I really hope he’s not going in there to do something stupid. Not that he’s ever struck me as the brash and reckless type; he’s been the opposite. But he is drinking when he doesn’t seem to normally, and maybe there’s a side of Harrison that comes loose.
So I sit there, nursing my beer, watching sailboats dock and tourists going to and fro, and trying not to worry about him.
Finally he returns, double-fisting two dark beers. Instead of looking triumphant, however, he just looks annoyed.
“Took you long enough,” I tell him.
“I had a shot of whisky,” he says, sitting down, the beers spilling over the edge of the glass.
“You what?” I stare at him.
“I had a shot of whisky,” he repeats, fixing his eyes on me, almost as a challenge. He doesn’t seem like he’s had a shot of whisky and a beer already; his gaze is as sharp and as clear as ever. But I’m still surprised he’s taken this turn.
“Making up for lost time?” I ask.
“Something like that,” he says. “Your ex is up onstage. Sure you don’t want to go in there and watch?”
“No, thank you,” I tell him. “In fact, when you’re done with those beers, we can leave.”
He frowns at me, his blue-green eyes growing more intense. “So soon?”
“You actually want to stay?”
He shrugs and palms his pint. “Why not? You dragged me out here, I’ve had the first drinks I’ve had in months. Dare I say I’m actually enjoying this?”
I wave my fingers at him. “This is you enjoying something?”
He gives me a crooked grin and then has a hearty gulp of his beer. “You can’t tell?”
Well, since he wants to stay and I’ve got him mostly alone and feeling a little looser, I decide to start my investigation into Harrison’s secretive backstory.
“So, tell me,” I begin, sitting back in my chair. “When was the last time you had a day off?”
He sips his beer and ponders that for a moment. “I honestly can’t remember.”
“I’m guessing when Monica and Eddie asked you to come with them to Canada, you didn’t have many reasons to say no.”
“Not particularly.”
“Any family?”
A darkness washes over his eyes, and he averts his gaze from mine, staring down at beer #2. Something tells me that wasn’t a harmless question.
“A mother. A younger brother and sister. They’re back in London.”
“Did your father skip out too?”
“I never knew him. But yes. Knocked up my mom and that was it. Then my mom got knocked up by two other guys, had my siblings. None of them stuck around, so it was up to me to help my mom raise them.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“No need to be sorry. I’m not. It’s just life. Managed to finish high school, then went straight to the army. Figured it was the easiest way to support everyone.”
“They must be very proud of you.”
He shrugs lightly, his brow furrowing. “Maybe. I wouldn’t know. It’s hard to keep in touch with them, but I try. And send them money too, my mum particularly. She’s had a tough go with life.”
“So you were in the army a long time.”
He nods. “Was the best decision I ever made. It kept me in line, made me stand up straight and take responsibility. You probably wouldn’t believe that I was a bit of a wanker when I was young. Shit disturber, always in trouble. Drinking, drugs, you name it. I suppose it was me rebelling at having to act like a father at such a young age. Going into the army kept me from a dark and dirty fate.”
Every little piece of himself that Harrison reveals feels like a gift and a revelation. It all makes so much sense now. His cool, calm, and collected demeanor, his need to be in control. He couldn’t be better suited for his job, but it might explain why he’s so devoted to it. He’s afraid to slip up.
I hope he’s not slipping up now. He’s just finished his second beer and is halfway through number three. Maybe eating something is a good idea.
“Have you ever had duck wings before?” I ask, picking up the menu. “They’re amazing here. So is their fish and chips. Freshly caught halibut.”
He gives me a wry look as he takes his menu. “You getting paid to say that?”
“Hey, I’m big on food. If a place has good food, I’ll shout it from the rooftops.”
His eyes flick over the menu. “Then I’m surprised that you’re not out and about here more often.”
“I guess you can say both of us desperately needed a night out, then. Maybe I’m coming to realize I can’t stay a hermit forever.”
“Can’t live in fear,” Harrison says, his voice dropping a register. “But that’s easier said than done. Isn’t it?”
I mull that over while Harrison flags down Amy again and we put in an order for a pound of duck wings, plus another beer and a highball of Scotch for Harrison. I’ve decided I have zero business telling him what he can and can’t drink. He’s a grown man. He makes his own decisions. And I was the one who insisted he come with me, and he did.
