The Scotsman
‘It’s a neeps and tatties toastie, with Stornoway black pudding, a homemade red onion and chili jam, and Westcombe Cheddar on my homemade sourdough bread,’ replied Robbie, who was in his element in the kitchen.
He prepared two sandwiches before he and Max sat on the sofa, their drinks on the coffee table, and a packet of haggis flavoured crisps to share.
While Max had his Lucy Saint IPA, Robbie had his usual Irn-Bru.
Robbie drank it like water, which he claimed it basically was in Scotland.
According to Robbie, Irn-Bru was one of the key things about being Scottish along with black pudding, bagpipes, deep-fried Mars bars, and watching the film Trainspotting on a yearly basis.
‘It looks interesting,’ said Max, looking down at the sandwich in front of him. It smelled incredible, and he couldn’t wait to give it a go.
‘After three,’ said Robbie, and he counted down to one, and then they both took a bite of their sandwiches.
Max thought it was incredible. He knew that Robbie made great bread, but the combination of the neeps and tatties, the fried black pudding, the sweetness from the onion jam with a little heat from the chili, and the melted cheddar, was incredible.
‘Wow!’ said Max. ‘Best sandwich ever.’
‘Yeah?’
‘Yes, mate. It’s rich, complex and it all marries together so well. I really think you need to open your own sandwich shop.’
‘Och, I cannae do that, pal. It’s just a wee hobby.’
‘Why? You make incredible sandwiches, you’re always complaining about working at the pub, and clearly sandwiches are your passion.’
‘Aye, but I couldnae afford to start my own business. I’d need a bank loan just to open, and then what if it failed, huh? What then?’
‘But what if it didn’t? What if you became one of the people you spend hours watching on YouTube, who become viral sensations, have queues of people lined up down the road day after day, coming from all over the world, desperate to try your sandwiches?’
‘I think youse getting a bit ahead of yourself there, pal,’ said Robbie, and then Max took another bite of his sandwich.
‘This is one of the best things I’ve ever eaten, Robbie, and you need to share this with the world. Trust me, if you made it, people would come.’
‘Don’t Field of Dreams me!’ said Robbie, before taking a sip of his Irn-Bru.
‘I’m just saying, mate. You have a gift.’
‘Aye, well, just because I make a decent sandwich, doesnae mean I cannae run a business.’
Ever since Max had met Robbie, and they had moved in together, there had been something about Robbie that Max didn’t quite understand.
It was clear from all the hours that Robbie spent in the kitchen, adjusting his sourdough recipe and testing out sandwich fillings like a mad scientist, that it was something he was deeply passionate about.
He also spent hours and hours watching food content on YouTube, and talking with such enthusiasm about it, that it seemed logical he should do something with it.
Plus, he hated his job at the pub, and never seemed happy when he was trudging off to work for another eight-hour shift.
Yet, despite the overwhelming evidence to support Max’s theory that he should definitely open a sandwich shop, Robbie didn’t think he could do it.
The man who threw himself into everything in life with such passion and vigour, seemed reluctant and afraid to take the step to make himself happier.
Perhaps his fear of failure was greater than his desire to follow his dreams.
‘You know, the cold plunge and sauna were so good today,’ said Max, changing subjects.
‘Oh aye.’
‘It was life changing, and I had a good chat with Joe. He’s a cab driver from Barking, and his dad died of a heart attack in his fifties. Joe just turned fifty himself, and he’s dedicated to turning his health around.’
‘Good for him,’ replied Robbie, before he took another bite of his sandwich.
‘Yeah, and it inspired me to have a look at my own life,’ said Max looking across at Robbie. ‘It’s been eighteen months, mate. I think I need to sell the house.’
Robbie stopped chewing, and put his sandwich down. He looked across at Max with a warm smile because he knew what that meant.
‘You think youse ready?’
‘I don’t know, but it’s something I’ve been putting off and putting off, and talking with Joe today, I felt like, what am I waiting for? When will it ever feel right, you know?’
‘I dinnae think you’ll know ‘til youse try.’
‘Exactly,’ said Max, before he had another sip of his beer, and a bite of the sandwich.
His parents’ house had been a continual source of thought and conversation since the accident.
Their house in St Albans was all his, it was mortgage free, and it was just sitting there.
He went back every now and then, and he would clean, mow the lawn, and keep it together, but whenever he thought about selling it, he would get a panic attack.
His chest would tighten, his heart raced, and he would need to sit down and take a moment.
It was the house he had grown up in that was so full of memories, ties to his parents, and it was still full of all their things.
He had gone back so many times with the intention of going through their clothes, putting them in bin bags, and giving them to charity, but when it actually came to doing it, he couldn’t go through with it.
The same with all the things in the house.
The knick-knacks, the holiday souvenirs, the furniture, all of it needed to go.
It was the final thing that had to be done. It was the last goodbye.
The thing was, he didn’t really need the money from the house yet.
His parents, always so diligent, both had good life insurance policies, and Max was the sole benefactor on both.
So, after his parents had died, he had been forced to sit down with his parents’ solicitor, and go through everything in the will, including the life insurance and the house.
Between everything, Max was set-up for life, he was financially secure, but he didn’t care because he would swap it all for having his parents back.
The money felt like a strange payment for their deaths, so it all just sat in his bank account, the house in St Albans sat empty, and Max did nothing with any of it.
He felt this overwhelming responsibility to use the money that they had saved for him for something meaningful, and because he didn’t know what that was, he did nothing with it.
He kept the house because he couldn't bear the thought of saying goodbye to it forever, and he had hardly touched any of the insurance money because the weight of it was too much.
In a way, he felt trapped by it all, while also realising at the same time, just how privileged he was not to have to worry about money. It was a horrible catch-22.
‘There’s also a girl,’ said Max, completely out of the blue, even taking himself by surprise. He hadn’t meant to discuss Bethan with Robbie, and maybe it was the sandwich or the small amount of alcohol in the beer, but he felt the need to talk. ‘At run club.’
‘The plot thickens,’ replied Robbie, deliciously raising one eyebrow. ‘Tell all, sir. Who is the wee lassie in question, and what dastardly plans do youse have for her?’
Max laughed. ‘Her name’s Bethan, and definitely no plans. Dastardly or otherwise.’
‘Why no plans?’
‘Because I’m not ready, mate. I’m literally just trying to keep myself together at the moment, get and stay healthy. I’m definitely not ready for the complex emotional needs of a proper relationship.’
‘This is your problem, pal.’
‘What?’
‘You’re an overthinker. What’s wrong with just having a wee bit of fun with this Bethan lassie, eh? Why does it always have to be a proper relationship with all the bells and whistles?’
‘Coming from the man who’s had more one-night stands than I’ve had hot dinners.’
‘A bit of an exaggeration. Aye, I’ve had a few girls over, but just like youse, I’m looking for The One.’
‘You’re looking for a girlfriend?’
‘Aye. I’ve just not met the right one yet. It’s why I keep trying. And trying. And trying.’
Max laughed. ‘So, when you meet The One, you’ll stop all the sleeping around, and have a proper relationship with all the bells and whistles?’
‘Aye, I will, and in the meantime,’ said Robbie, standing up. ‘You should have a wee bit of fun yourself. You deserve it, and more importantly, so does your penis!’
Robbie walked into the kitchen to tidy up.
His shift at work started in an hour, and he needed to have a shower and get changed.
Was he right? Should Max just have a bit of fun with Bethan?
Was that even possible? Max had always been a relationship sort of bloke.
He’d only had two one-night stands in his life, and they were both in the first term at university – a hotbed for casual sex – but before that and since, he had always been more comfortable in a relationship.
The idea of just sleeping with someone for sex, hadn’t ever appealed to him.
Even in his darkest days after the accident, it wasn’t sex with random strangers he craved.
He actually enjoyed the closeness of sleeping with someone he genuinely loved and cared for.
Could he just have some fun with Bethan with no strings attached?
Running friends with benefits? The answer to Max seemed pretty obvious – probably not.
‘I have to get ready for work, but if youse need a hand with your parents’ house, just let me know,’ said Robbie, walking through the living area towards his bedroom.
‘Thanks, mate, and seriously, think about the sandwich shop.’
‘Rab’s Sandwich Shop!’
‘Why not Robbie’s Sandwich Shop!’
‘Down here I go by Robbie, but in Scotland, everyone calls me Rab. I just think Rab’s Sandwich Shop sounds better. It’s also a wee wink to Scotland.’
‘So, you’ll think about it?’
‘Only if youse think about having some fun with this lassie at run club.’
‘I’ll think about it,’ replied Max, and with that, it seemed like they had some sort of loose deal in place.
The problem was, it had been so long since Max had thought about just having some fun, he wasn’t even sure where to begin.
Fun seemed like an alien concept, when for the past eighteen months, he felt like he had barely been clinging onto life by his fingertips.
Fun was something that other people did.
He took the last bite of his sandwich, enjoying the flavours and the crunch of the toasted sourdough, before he got up and started tidying the kitchen, while playing with the word on his tongue for a few minutes. Fun. If only life were that simple.