Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Day Five
Maisie couldn’t believe the first week of the tour was already coming to an end. After five days, she was beginning to feel that familiar stress that always popped up when vacations wound down—the stress that promised of time speeding up and of her moments in the country coming swiftly to an end.
She just wasn’t ready for it. Yes, she still had a week. But the thought of leaving Northern Ireland—of leaving Finn—was more than enough to amp up her desire to make each day count.
She’d said goodbye to those on the bus that morning as they’d returned to Belfast. The weekend would be unscheduled visits around the bustling city, then the tour would meet up again come Monday to explore the west and south of Northern Ireland. Until then, Maisie had the entire weekend to herself to do what she would.
While she would have rather spent more time with Finn, she focused on her plans to keep her mind busy, stopping at every café and restaurant she could until her stomach was stuffed full of soup, bread, and more desserts than she could name. Her notebook was full to bursting, too—even though most of the recent food hadn’t been noteworthy—and her time around Belfast had certainly been memorable.
The only problem was that even though she’d kept busy to avoid her mind straying to Finn, that didn’t stop her eyes from playing tricks on her, thinking that she saw him in every restaurant, around every corner, and on every bus.
Of course, she wasn’t helping herself by pulling up his photos on her phone occasionally throughout the day, but that was beside the point.
When the day finally wound down, the rain had once again flicked on, so Maisie left another disappointing restaurant, wanting nothing more in that moment than to head directly to Doherty’s for some heartwarming vegetable soup.
Instead, she remained in Belfast and arrived back at her hotel after dark, checking in at the front desk and ready to sleep until morning.
“Evenin’,” the woman behind the counter greeted, her nametag reading Erin Campbell . “Checkin’ in?”
Maisie nodded. “Yes, for Maisie King.”
“Part of Northern Irish Rovin’ Bus Tours?”
Maisie nodded. A few people on the tour were staying in the same hotel, as a discount had been provided for booking with them. She’d seen the Taylors and the Waterstones already there when she’d dropped off her bags that morning.
Oh, that reminded her. “I left my bags here earlier?”
“Aye,” Mrs. Campbell said. “I’ll have ’em fetched for you.”
She clicked a few buttons on her computer, then sent a nearby worker to retrieve the luggage Maisie had stored in the hotel. “I trust you’ve been enjoyin’ your time in Belfast.”
“Absolutely,” Maisie said. “It’s a beautiful city.”
“Oh, aye. And the nightlife’s craic, too. Are you goin’ to any of the local pubs tonight?”
Maisie pulled in her lips. “No, I’m headed straight to bed. I’m exhausted.”
“Ach, naw. You’re a wee doll. Too young to turn in so early. ”
“I guess I feel older than I look,” she joked.
The assistant pulled her luggage from around the corner, the wheels rumbling along the wooden floors as he delivered them to Maisie.
“Thank you,” she said, then accepted the key extended to her from Mrs. Campbell.
“Have a lovely stay,” Mrs. Campbell said with a smile. “And if you change your mind ’bout sleepin’, there’s cracker food and a new band every hour at the Boatswain’s Bar. Not too far from here, neither.”
“Maybe I’ll get a second wind and check it out,” Maisie said, then after another grateful nod, she pulled her belongings with her to her room on the second floor, having zero intention of going to the pub at all.
The only thing she wanted to do in that moment was go to bed so she could finally rest her mind from racing toward Finn. If she fell asleep early, that was one day closer to finally seeing him again.
She entered her room, slipping off her shoes and lifting her suitcase onto the foldable luggage holder before flopping onto her bed, not even having the energy to unzip her bags.
She closed her eyes, resting her arm on her brow as she drew in steadying breaths. At this rate, she wasn’t even going to be able to get dressed for bed before falling asleep.
And yet, moments before drifting off into pleasant slumber, Mrs. Campbell’s words popped up in her mind like a specter appearing from thin air.
“Too young to turn in so early.”
Maisie tried to ignore the thought, shifting to her side and pulling on the unconscious blanket of sleep she’d almost been greeted with before, but as she tossed and turned, she finally admitted defeat, and her eyes pinged open.
With a sigh of deflation instead of exhaustion, Maisie rose from her bed and headed for her suitcase. A bit of unpacking was dull enough to put her back to sleep .
But when the flashing of cars’ lights lit up the base of the nearby curtains, she wandered to the window, peering down at the street filled with cars and sidewalks dotted with pedestrians.
The image was serene, orange light reflected on the wet roads, raindrops glistening in the air just below the lamps. Nearby shop lights had dimmed, having already closed for the night, though cars on the street still drove as they splayed out water from their tires, their splashing nearly reaching the sidewalk where couples and groups of laughing ladies walked past the hotel.
“Too young to turn in so early.”
Wasn’t that the truth? Maisie had lived with Daphne for so long that she’d naturally fallen into her aunt’s habits, becoming an early-to-bed person instead of the night owl she’d been before. Of course, Maisie had only ever gotten into bed early. Typically, she’d still stay up late, working until she fell asleep from boredom.
Even during this trip, Maisie would go to bed around nine every night just to be ready to wake up with Daphne to work.
But then, Daphne wasn’t there, was she?
Maisie glanced down at her phone screen. Quarter to nine. What was that pub Mrs. Campbell had suggested, Boatswain’s Bar? She had to admit, the prospect of food that evening wasn’t a huge pull, what with how full she was on mediocre meals, but the live Irish music was a driving factor.
And having something to distract her from Finn? That was even better.
After a quick change of clothes, Maisie pulled on her raincoat and headed downstairs.
“Ach, you changed your mind,” Mrs. Campbell stated with delight.
“Yep, you managed to convince me,” Maisie said with a smile, then she headed outside, calling Dad as she made her way to the pub.
While he wasn’t happy with her walking alone at night, he was glad she’d called him, so he stayed on the line with her until she reached the pub—hanging up only after she’d sworn to call him again when she was on her way back to the hotel.
Saying goodbye to her dad, Maisie slipped her phone in the pocket of her dress, then stepped into the comforting warmth of the pub, instantly greeted by warm lights hanging low from the ceilings and black and white photos scattered across dark walls.
One end of the pub held a bar with a large, “Fish and Chips” sign glowing orange above it, while the other side boasted an elevated stage, a group of guys setting up mic stands and plugging in their instruments as they got ready to sing.
Maisie weaved her way through the teeming pub toward the bar, wading through the smell of Guinness and damp wood and pursuing the occasional whiff of malt vinegar and chips—the scent convincing her that she wasn’t really that full after all.
She sat down at the far end of the bar, and after ordering, took in the sights around her. Patrons left and right laughed boisterously as they enjoyed their night out, men and women flirting, groups throwing darts nearby, and friends chatting above the noise of chairs scraping back and forth across the stone floor.
The vibe was a bit too rambunctious for Maisie—she’d probably only stay until she’d eaten her food and heard at least one song—but she didn’t regret taking part of the experience at all.
After another minute, her chips were delivered, and she doused them in vinegar before happily munching on them in silence until the microphone burst forth with a high pitch above the mumble of chatter across the pub.
“Evenin’ ladies and gents.”
Maisie’s stomach jolted forward, her attention swinging toward the stage at the familiar voice and greeting. She had to be imagining it. She wanted to see him again so badly that she’d convinced herself that it was him.
But as the lights focused on the stage, revealing the band and the person who’d spoken, her heart tripped into her chest.
Finn.
“Thanks for comin’ out here tonight,” he said, his accent stronger than usual. “We are Nine Leagues Under, and we’ll be entertain’ you over the next hour. Sit back, relax, or sing along and dance. Whate’er you do, enjoy.”
Maisie shook her head, the entire pub fading away as she stared at Finn.
“One, two, three…” he chanted into the mic.
The band behind him picked up a lively tune with drums, guitars, and accordions, then he sang clearly into the mic.
Maisie wasn’t shocked at his ability to sing. She’d heard it before on the bus. But still, she reeled that the very pub she’d randomly chosen to attend that evening was the very place Finn was playing in a band she hadn’t even known he was a part of.
Had he ever mentioned Nine Leagues Under? She had no recollection, though his binder of songs he’d had on Bob made far more sense now.
He continued singing, his right hand clutching the mic, brows drawn together as his rugged voice belted out across the pub. As the song progressed and his feel for the music increased, his free hand raised in the air, fingers splayed out and foot tapping in time with the beat.
Maisie sat a little taller in her seat. Could he see her across the dark pub with those lights blaring down on him? She was seated near the light of the bar, so it was possible. Maybe she should just get closer so he could see her.
Or should she make everything easier on both of them by leaving right now?
She scoffed at the ludicrous thought, knowing full well there was no chance she would leave early. He’d caught her in his net, and she was powerless to escape.
Song after song she remained, bouncing her own foot with the lively music, all the while staring at the man who’d stolen her attention and refused to let go.
At one point during the hour, she had to ward off an overly friendly man twice her age who wouldn’t stop speaking with her, but with the help of the bartender, the man wandered off to hit on the next woman in his line of sight.
Even that experience couldn’t convince Maisie to leave.
As the next song began, the band picked up a lengthy introduction, and Finn patted his hand against his thigh, bobbing his head in time with the music as he took a minute to explore the crowd.
Once more, Maisie sat closer to the lights the bar gave off, and for the first time, his eyes reached all the way to the back of the pub. He glanced away a second later, only to look back again with narrowed eyes that sliced through the crowd as they landed squarely on Maisie.
A half-smile of amazement parted his lips in surprise, then his grin dazzled.
He’d seen her.