4
Walking into the bar is a total contrast to the basic back room.
It’s like stepping through time, with the long mahogany counter, old whiskey mirrors, and dimmed copper lights.
The tables are dark reclaimed wood, and the seating is all faded brown leather couches and cushioned, timber-backed benches.
Flynn’s sitting on the couch down the end, next to the stove with its crackling coal fire.
He looks up and waves when he spots me. His smile is soft, and his hair’s all tousled, and he looks like he could be starring in an ad for Guinness or Kerrygold, or even ‘hot guy in local village pub’ for the next Irish rom-com.
Then he peels off his hoodie, and his T-shirt rides up to reveal a flash of taut, golden skin.
And my stomach jolts like I’ve taken a plunge off one of those wild river water rides.
Christ, Gracie, get a grip. Don’t you dare start catching feelings. Not again.
Pat’s perched on the bench across from him, flattening a cigarette paper like some ancient treasure map that needs to be handled with care.
I never actually see him smoke a cigarette, and he can’t in here anyway, but he always seems to be rolling one, preparing to roll one, or tucking one behind his ear. He turns as soon as Flynn waves.
‘Gracie, girl, sit down.’ He stands and gestures for me to take his place. ‘Sorry I dragged Flynn away early, but I needed to talk to him about something confidential. Now, you’ll have a drink?’
‘That’s okay, Pat, I’ll get them.’
‘You will not.’ He ushers me onto the bench opposite Flynn. ‘Sit yourself down, I’d rather be up at the bar anyway.’ He waves over to Tim, now seated at the bar counter, and shoots him his trademark cheeky grin. Then he turns back to me. ‘What’ll you have?’
‘Em, a glass of red wine, thanks.’
I squeeze past him and settle across from Flynn.
‘You were great tonight,’ he cuts through my muddled, horny thoughts. ‘You always did know how to work a crowd.’
He smirks over to the old-style jukebox that’s been in the back alcove forever, and that we used to play tunes on and sing along at the top of our voices.
Well, I did, murdering my favourite song from Twilight, and trying not to make it obvious who it was that I’d love for a thousand years.
Flynn was always more the strum-a-guitar-at-the-end-of-the-night type, as opposed to my Queen of Karaoke, Irish style.
Not that we spent many nights hanging out in bars as teenagers, but every Oakwood family occasion from weddings to funerals ends with a trad session or a sing-song in the Corner Bar, and nobody gets left behind.
‘I can’t believe that jukebox is still there.’ He takes another mouthful of Guinness before he adds, ‘I take it the Stringers gave up their protest in the end.’
‘Oh God, I’d forgotten about that.’ I shake with laughter at the memory.
‘They spent that whole winter after you left traipsing up and down outside the front door. They had big cardboard placards ranting about foreign music taking over the village, but it rained so hard the first week all the ink ran, and nobody could read them any more.’ I clutch my stomach.
‘Sarah took to throwing coins at them, pretending she thought they were doing performance art.’
We’re both creased laughing when Pat arrives back with our drinks. ‘I see you two haven’t changed.’ He mock rolls his eyes as he hands me my wine.
And I wonder if he’s right. If Flynn and I can fall back into our old easy friendship. Maybe. If I can stop my stomach sky-diving every time he reveals a glimpse of bare skin.
‘Well, I’d better get back to the bar.’ Pat lays a friendly palm on my shoulder. ‘The barmaid’s flirting with Timmy again and someone needs to let her know she’s wasting her time.’ He arches his brows playfully. ‘I think that might have to be me.’
Two drinks later and we’ve chatted about the meeting, and plans for the festival, and what everybody in the village has been up to apart from Flynn and me.
The mood is upbeat but there’s a dull, persistent ache in my chest and I can’t hold back any longer.
One more gulp of wine and I’m going to blurt out the questions I’ve been holding back for ten years too long.
Why? Why did you laugh? And why did you leave without saying a proper goodbye?
Flynn tilts his head, eyes narrowed. ‘Are you okay?’
I take a swig of my Malbec and ready myself to say no, I’m not okay.
I’m tired of saying yes, I’m good, everything’s great, and smiling through it all.
I’m worn out pretending because I’m starting to realise that I haven’t felt okay for a very long time.
Maybe not since those days under our favourite oak tree by the lake . . .
‘Is it the memories?’ Flynn rubs at his jaw.
Okay. We’re doing this. It seems like we’re finally ready to talk about what happened.
‘I guess it must hurt.’ His eyes are filled with concern.
So he does feel bad about the way he handled things. The way he ghosted me that week before he left. Then barely spoke when I gave him his leaving gift. Best friends don’t do that.
I take a deep breath to help me drag up the words. ‘It definitely hurt at the time.’
I’m about to add that it’s okay, I moved on, but I would like to understand what happened. I’d like him to tell me.
But Flynn’s not finished. ‘I mean, it’s ten years since that ball you and Sarah organised.’ His face flushes. ‘That you went to with Jamie. And now you’re here, on your own, organising Halloween for the whole village. I’m guessing you’ve broken up again.’
‘What? No. That’s not—’
‘Sorry, I just presumed—’
I don’t get why he’s going on about me and Sarah. And Jamie, for God’s sake. When all I want to hear about is him, and us, and why he treated me the way he did back then, when I thought he was the one person who would never hurt me.
I throw my hands up, in frustration. ‘Why are you talking about Jamie? I thought we were going to talk about us. Our friendship. Why you stopped being my best friend.’
His shoulders sag and he leans back into the brown leather button-back as though he needs the support. ‘That’s what I still don’t understand, Gracie.’
‘Huh?’ I pull at a clump of my hair. What kind of an answer is that? It’s been ten long years and he owes me a proper explanation.
He kneads his forehead with his knuckles, and he seems to be trying to decide whether to say any more, but then he huffs out a breath.
‘I never got why you chose Jamie. He was always so full of himself. I didn’t believe it when Sarah said you really wanted him to take you to the ball. That she only asked me as a joke.’
Shit. I did not know Sarah told him that. She must have been really mad at him for laughing.
‘And then he asked you, and you said yes.’ He sighs. ‘I know it was a long time ago, and maybe he’s changed. But I doubt it. He was never right for you, Gracie.’
My jaw drops. Like Flynn has any right to tell me who I should or shouldn’t date. It’s not like he ever wanted me.
‘That’s not what happened. You know that. Sarah asked you to go with me first. And you laughed. You just laughed. That’s why she said that about Jamie.’
I burn at the memory and share the part I’ve never told him until now. ‘I was there, standing right behind Jamie and Scott. I know you didn’t see me. But I saw you. And I heard how you laughed.’
Flynn’s face goes ashen and he looks like he’s about to be sick.
‘I’m sorry, Gracie, I get how that must have looked.
’ He tugs a hand through his hair and his voice is raw and tight.
‘But I promise, I wasn’t laughing at you.
I’d never have laughed at you. You were my best friend.
’ He squeezes his eyes shut and his face contorts as if he’s in pain.
‘I was in shock after finding out my father had decided to move us so far away. I’d only just found out.
And I was in bits at the thought of leaving you. ’
‘Really?’
He watches me frown. ‘You know I was. I told you. In my letter.’
‘Did you?’
‘Yeah, you know I did.’ He looks hurt.
I scrunch my face in concentration as I try to picture that first note Flynn sent after he left.
I presume he means the one after the card that said Happy Holidays.
Because that was barely a line. The next one was hardly a letter, but at least he did write and tell me a little about his life, even if it was only a few lines on a card.
I feel bad that I don’t remember it properly, but it was a long time ago, and there was a lot to process in that note, now buried in a box in Mam’s attic.
It was the first time Flynn mentioned his mother being sick, and his dad being so busy and never there for her, and how it was just as well he didn’t stay in Oakwood (like that was ever an option), as his mam needed him in Cricket Falls.
But that’s all I remember. I don’t remember him saying sorry for laughing or telling me he didn’t want to leave. Maybe I blocked that part out because I was hurt that it came way too late.
‘Okay, well, I guess that makes sense,’ I say eventually. ‘The laughing, I mean. The being in shock.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Flynn hangs his head. ‘You have every right to choose who you want to be with. I shouldn’t have written what I did. I should never have put that on you.’
‘Don’t say that.’ I reach across the table to squeeze his hand. I hate that he feels bad for telling me his mam was sick. ‘You know you can tell me anything. I’m still your friend.’
His eyes find mine and he gives me a relieved smile. ‘Thanks, that’s good to hear.’
I smile back. ‘And I’m glad your mam is better now.’
He frowns, and looks confused, but I go on. I need to say this. ‘But I don’t get why you’re annoyed about Jamie? You weren’t even around when I started seeing him. You’d already left.’
I don’t mention that Jamie was furious at him for laughing at me and came to me the next day and said Flynn was a prick and he didn’t deserve me, and he’d love to take me to the ball.
I said no at first. I thought he just felt sorry for me.
Or maybe Sarah had begged him to ask me out, to soften the blow from Flynn.
Jamie could have taken anyone. He was the standard tall, dark, and good-looking type, and most of the other girls in school were crazy about him.
I’d never taken much notice. Never understood what all the fuss was about.
But he persisted for days until I finally agreed.
And then he treated me like a princess that night, and afterwards.
He really came through for me back then, and if it wasn’t for Jamie and Sarah, I’m not sure how I’d have gotten through that awful time.
I feel like saying all this to Flynn, but he still looks upset, even though he really has no right to be.
I’m about to ask again why it bothers him so much, when my phone buzzes at full volume, and it’s as if I’ve conjured up my ex with all these memories.
I hit decline, but it starts to ring again immediately.
‘Sorry, I’d better take this. It’ll keep ringing all night if I don’t. I won’t be long.’
‘We need to talk.’ Jamie’s tone is clipped as I pull the door to the beer garden closed behind me and sink down on the bench by the wall.
‘I don’t have anything to say to you.’ I’m not sure what he expects me to say considering this is the first time he’s called since I left.
‘Be reasonable, Gracie. You know Olivia and I are just work colleagues. It was nothing. It is nothing.’ No need for FaceTime, I can picture the downward curve of his lips as Jamie sighs down the line.
I roll my eyes. ‘So, you’re still shagging her then?’
‘Don’t be crude, Gracie, it doesn’t suit you.’
‘You didn’t answer my question.’
‘It’s a ridiculous question. Anyway, I’m not calling to talk about Olivia. I’m calling to talk about you and me.’
‘It’s been almost a month, Jamie. There is no you and me. Not any more.’
‘Gracie.’ He sighs again. ‘I made a mistake. People make mistakes.’ His tone changes to accusing.
‘And you left me, not the other way around. What was I supposed to do? I was upset at the way you treated me, and I needed time to figure out what I wanted. But I’ll be home soon and we’ll work this out. ’
‘The way I treated you?’ I sag against the freezing cold wall. ‘You’re the one who cheated. And then didn’t even bother to apologise. I don’t know why you’re finally calling me now, but please don’t call me again.’
‘It was one stupid mistake, that’s all. Come on, Gracie. Nobody’s perfect.’
‘Jamie, just leave me alone.’ I try to sound strong, determined. This time it’s over. It has to be.
‘I have no intention of leaving you alone,’ he snaps. ‘Scott told me, you know. That loser, Anderson, is back. I hope you’re not hanging around with him.’ He huffs down the line. ‘You know he’ll leave again, don’t you? And I’ll be the one to pick up the pieces, like the first time.’
‘Bastard.’ I choke out the word, and I hate that I let him hear the hurt in my voice. Jamie’s always known how to root out my weak spots, especially when it comes to Flynn.
‘You know I’m right, Gracie. Look, I have to go, but I’m coming home as soon as I clear things at work, and we’ll fix this. In the meantime, stay away from Anderson, please.’
I drop my phone onto my lap as he hangs up. And I only realise I’m shivering when I look up and see Flynn coming through the door.
‘Are you okay?’ He dips his head and holds my gaze. ‘I take it that was Jamie.’
He sits down beside me and starts to rub my back to stop me shivering, but then pulls away again, as if he’s not sure it’s okay to touch me.
I close my eyes and lean my head against his shoulder.
I shouldn’t. I’m only confusing myself even more.
But I’m cold and I’m shaky, and Flynn feels so warm, and solid, and safe.
Just like he always used to feel when I needed a shoulder to lean on.
And God knows I needed him a lot that last year. Before he left.
‘I’m sorry. I should go home.’ I try to smile but it doesn’t take. Instead, I release a shaky sigh as I stand and look down at him, wondering how ten years can feel like it’s passed in the space of a heartbeat. ‘Maybe we can catch up again before you leave.’