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5
The bar was busy. Mum and Dad had said to meet at some place called Cal’s. It hadn’t existed when she left Glasgow. Well, the building was here, but back then it was called O’Donnell’s Bar. And it definitely wasn’t as appealing as Cal’s. This place did cocktails, and plenty of them.
She could almost taste the martini as she double-checked their text:Place is busy, come in from Pollokshaws Road, back left corner.They weren’t kidding. Every outside table was taken, with many people opting to stand in the spaces between in case one of the seated few decided to leave.
Holly shuffled through the bystanders at the door and made her way to the back corner. She was feeling a little better after being soaked; her hair had finally dried and she’d made peace with the fact she looked the age of a college student without her usual make-up on. The polo shirt still felt a million miles away from what she was comfortable in, but needs must. Not like she knew anyone here, anyway.
Mum popped up like a meerkat and waved wildly. They’d bagged a nice spot on a sofa, away from the hustle and bustle of the tables near the main bar.
‘Hey, how’s it going?’ Holly asked Mum as she gave her a tight hug.
‘Good! How did the deliveries go?’
Holly went to sit but Mum cupped her shoulders, keeping her upright. ‘Good. What’s going on?’ Fear washed over her: this wasn’t some sort of surprise party, was it? Or even worse, an intervention? She’d been worried things would be strained, but so far her parents had been classic Mum and Dad, just like they’d always been every Christmas and for the last few months. Maybe she’d relaxed too soon.
Dad stood up, taking a position by Mum.
Jesus.
‘Listen, Holly, don’t be mad,’ Dad started.
‘Why would I be mad? What’s going on?’
Mum swiped a glass of white wine from the table and thrust it towards her. ‘We were going to tell you earlier, but you seemed so upset about getting soaked that it just didn’t feel right.’
‘Okay,’ Holly replied, her voice wavering. Her mind was torn between downing the wine or dumping it and hightailing it out of here.
Dad slapped a sticker on her chest: a huge rectangle with a yellow stripe across the top and her name scrawled in the middle. ‘There’s an event on tonight and Annie really needed our help.’
‘Who’s Annie?’
‘She’s head of the board for the BIG – you know, the business group that organised Lovefest.’
‘Uh-huh.’ This was going in an odd direction. Terror twisted her stomach and heat flushed the back of her neck. But at least it had nothing to do with her past indiscretions.
Dad continued, ‘It’s really important to look like a team player, show everyone we’re a serious business.’
Holly eyed the sticker on her left boob again. ‘What’s that got to do with the name tag?’
‘There’s an event tonight,’ Mum replied, her eyes sympathetic. ‘We need you to go, just for a while.’
‘Oh no, no, no.’ Holly said, trying to place the glass back on the low table. Dad gently kept her in place.
‘Please, just one drink? Then come back here?’ he asked.
Holly was silent. She wanted to help; of course she did. But this?Nope.
‘Why me?’
‘It’s a matchmaking event and Annie was low on lesbians. She asked if we knew any and, well, we might have got excited in the moment,’ Mum said with a shrug.
‘So … gay speed dating?’
‘Not quite,’ Dad replied. ‘It’s a mix. The yellow stripe means you’re looking for a woman.’
‘I told you, I’m not ready yet.’
‘We know, we know,’ Mum said, putting her hands up in mock defence. ‘But, like we said, Annie wanted help. We realise this is a massive ask, but you just need to chat to a few people.’
