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Up close, he seemed even more familiar. Then to answer Millie’s question, George said, ‘I know, but I spilled some of Owen’s beer, so I thought I might as well get the whole round again.’
‘Do you need me to come over with a cloth to clear the spillage?’
‘No need. Not that big. Mum’s sorting it with a couple of tissues.’
George turned back to the man. There was nothing for it. He was going to have to ask. ‘Have I seen you before somewhere? You seem very familiar.’
The man smiled, and with a slight Scottish accent, replied. ‘No, unless you mean in here. I’ve been in two or three times in the last few days.’
‘You’ve moved into the area?’
The man’s right eyebrow arched, as if surprised at George questioning him, but his good-natured smile remained in place. ‘No, no,’ he said. ‘I work not far away, but I only recently discovered this pub. I should, I suppose, have known it from way back. My younger brother lived and worked in the area.’
‘Ah, perhaps that’s why I thought I knew you. Maybe I know your brother.’
‘I doubt it. He died a long time ago. I’m guessing maybe before you were born. Tell me, are you a local?’
‘Yes. Born and bred.’
‘And that’s your family over there?’ The man nodded towards Owen and Sally.
‘My mum is. Owen’s a friend. We’re at university together.’
‘Is that so? What are you reading?’
‘Medieval History.’
‘Very interesting, and your friend, what’s he reading?’
‘Same.’
‘Here we are,’ Sally interrupted, pushing a tray of drinks towards George.
He rummaged in his pocket for cash.
‘Before I forget,’ Millie said, ‘Pete asked if your mum might sing on New Year’s Eve?’
‘Oh, I don’t think so. She doesn’t really perform nowadays. How did Pete know?’
‘I told him. Sorry, shouldn’t I have?’
‘No, it’s all right. Mum won’t mind him knowing.’
‘Will you ask her then?’
‘All right, but I think she’ll probably say no… what with everything that’s happened.’
The stranger looked up from his drink. ‘Have you had some difficulties?’
‘Not what you would call difficulties. More like family dramas. My dad died on Christmas Eve and Owen’s mum died last week.’ George shrugged, cast a quick look at Millie, thinking,and I nearly lost you,before he added, ‘It’s been a holiday to remember, that’s for sure.’
‘I’m sorry to learn that and it’s a pity you can’t have a good time at Hogmanay.’
‘You’re Scottish?’ George said, distractedly handing Millie payment for his order.
Millie laughed, and on her way to the till, called over her shoulder. ‘Didn’t you notice, George?’
Feeling hot with embarrassment, because he had noticed the accent, so he didn’t know why he had blurted such a stupid question, he said. ‘Yes, of course,’ then, with a new idea striking him, he added. ‘You’re not related, are you?’ He glanced at Millie. That might account for why he thought the man was familiar. He had the same colour eyes as Millie. Perhaps he was an uncle or something.
‘No. Sadly, no. Let me introduce myself. I already feel I know you and your friend well, after you’ve honoured me with so much information. The name is Henry, Henry McKinnon.’
Back at their table,George slid the tray between the half-empty glasses. ‘Come on, drink up. I got another round in.’
‘You were a long time chatting to that man,’ Sally said, tilting her chin in Henry’s direction and tipping the remains of her first whisky into the fresh glass.
‘Yes, we got talking. I thought maybe he was related to Millie. He’s Scottish.’
‘And is he a relative?’ Owen asked, lifting his new pint glass.
‘No, but he works somewhere near here. So, I guess I must have seen him on the streets, or in a shop nearby. By the way, Mum, Pete, the bar manager has asked if you would sing on New Year’s Eve.’
