Stuck Together

Chapter 1

ONE

In some love stories, the peak moment is a couple standing on a street in the rain, under the orange glow of street lamps, gazing intensely at each other before they passionately kiss. But although my story begins on Grey Street one rainy night, it was anything but romantic. I’d been standing outside for less than a minute, but my hair was already plastered to my head like it had been poured out of a paint can, and the only intense gaze I’d exchanged was with an underage drinker who’d dropped a half-eaten tray of cheesy chips on my shoe. Instead of the dreamy glow of street lamps, hollow plastic Christmas lights hung above my head in preparation for the festive season, grey and miserable in their unlit state.

I should have picked a drier night to get fired.

My shift had started without any sense of foreboding; just a normal night waitressing in one of Newcastle’s fancier restaurants. Epicure was the kind of place that had a menu made up of vague descriptions like Essence of Carrot, Venison Smoke or The Souls of All Your Deceased Relatives. I arrived wearing the staff uniform of a crisp white shirt tucked into jeans and strapped a black apron around my waist.

Grant materialised around the corner of the staff-room door like he was one of the aforementioned deceased souls. Being the ma?tre d’, he was dressed in a grey suit, and his blonde hair was quiffed to perfection.

‘Annie, we’ve talked about this.’

‘I know, I’m sorry. The bus was late and I got here as quick as I could.’

His smile was reminiscent of a shark circling its next meal. ‘Well, maybe you should get on the earlier one from now on.’

The earlier one, if it ran on time, would get me into Newcastle a full hour before my shift, but I smiled and nodded. ‘I’ll think on that.’

‘Best that you do. We can only live up to our guests’ expectations if we have similarly high expectations of ourselves.’ He disappeared.

‘Someone’s been given a self-help book for their birthday,’ I murmured as I stood in front of the mirror tidying my ponytail. As usual, I needed to stand on tiptoes to see my full face – at just over five feet tall, I found that mirrors often gave me a view of my forehead and little else. My light brown hair, which was exactly the same shade as my freckles, was still slightly blonde at the ends from summer. Now that we were deep into autumn, my next trim would put paid to that and make me mousy again.

This wasn’t my dream job; far from it, but it was a damn sight better than some previous jobs I’d had. It was a list that was longer and more varied than I would have liked. But since I’d left school, I’d found it hard to settle on one career. I liked trying new things, and now that I was twenty-eight, I had a CV as long as an epic novel.

The dining room was starting to fill with the first customers, and I tended to my four tables: one family with cute, well-behaved children who also seemed frighteningly cultured; a group of female friends; and two couples – one seemingly on a first date and the other looking at their phones throughout. For all it wasn’t the most glittering career, I enjoyed it – talking to people, helping them choose from the baffling menu and making sure they had a great night.

The first few hours passed by under the ever-watchful eye of Grant, who glowered at me in between sashaying from table to table, theatrically unfolding napkins and laying them on people’s laps. I just smiled back and remembered to ‘forget’ one or two drinks on the nicer customers’ bills, as a kind of reverse paying-it-forward. I was serving another tray of drinks to the group of girlfriends, who were still there and on their fifth or sixth bottle of wine between them, when Grant escorted three men to one of my tables and nodded at me to take over.

Before I could even whip out my notepad, the biggest, burliest one, who looked like he’d played a lot of rugby in his time, looked past me towards the table of women beyond.

‘You all look like you’re having a good time,’ he said with a wolfish grin. ‘I might swap tables – leave these reprobates behind.’ He tipped a wink at his two friends. His accent was plummy Southern English on steroids.

The women stopped talking, smiled uncomfortably and subtly turned their shoulders on him. His face fell and his lip curled.

‘God, the women up here are as cold as the weather.’

His friends chuckled, and they all checked the menu while I waited, a patient smile on my face. The two other men ordered drinks and then Rugby Wanker said, ‘I’ll have a Hendricks and tonic. Make sure it comes with cucumber not lime.’

I nodded and walked away, just catching him murmur, ‘Can’t expect the provinces to be up to speed on how to make a proper G its dark colour emphasised the pallor of his skin.

‘Um, hi, Neo. How was your day?’

‘Successful. I levelled up to sixty on Burning Crusade and finished alpha testing and debugging my client’s app.’

‘I don’t know what either of those things mean, but I’m really happy for you.’

‘Thanks,’ he said, tapping away at his keyboard. ‘So. Have you brought me a side quest, or are you just here to make small talk?’

‘Er, side quest, I think? I have a favour to ask.’

‘Pray tell,’ he murmured, still glued to the screen.

‘I’m going to come up a bit short on this month’s rent. I’m sorry.’

‘I see. How come?’

‘I poured a drink on someone’s lap for being a patronising, misogynistic prick. And then lost my job.’

‘No savings?’

I shrugged. ‘Waitressing doesn’t pay as well as software engineering, I’m afraid.’

He sighed. ‘Fine. Leia would have done the same to a misogynist, I suppose. Pay me back when you get a new job.’

‘I will. Thanks, Neo. I really appreciate it.’

‘No problem. May the force be with you.’

‘And also with you.’ I left and closed the door.

I stood against it with my forehead rested on the plywood. Thank the lord Neo was a kind-hearted nerd. I felt terrible having to depend on his good nature, but what choice did I have? It was this or be out on the street. I’d need to find a new job, and fast, because I was now even further away from getting out of here. As decent as Neo could be, I didn’t think I could bear much more of his spooky presence beyond the bedroom door, or having to tiptoe around the pristine still-unboxed Game of Thrones memorabilia.

I headed to my room, ready for the oblivion of sleep, in the hope that I might dream of a solution.