Days Of Us

5 -Day The Fourth-

-Day The Fourth-

Monday, week 2

Lydia was pretty sure she would strangle the next person that stared prolongedly at her breasts when she was serving them. She was also pretty sure that she would get fired if she did that. Her manager, Gerry, had given her a pretty strong warning when she had flipped out on a male customer a few weeks before that. Lydia couldn't afford to lose her job, she had barely made her rent the month before and she wasn't planning on moving back in with her parents and younger siblings any time soon.

At that moment, someone called Lydia's name. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She couldn't wait to get out of this job, she hated alcoholics and feeding their addiction. Her theory was that if they needed to get drunk every single night of the week, didn't they realise that there was something wrong with their lives?

Lydia looked up and was surprised at who she saw sat in front of the bar counter. She assumed that the guy who had talked to her on Friday was only a blow-in. She didn't think that he would actually come back. Dennis' wasn't a completely shitty place but it wasn't really a place that any sane person would bother coming back to.

"What can I do you for?" Lydia asked him. She couldn't remember the guy's name, although she knew it was something that began with S. Simon? No, that didn't sound right, maybe it didn't begin with S.

"Hello," the guy said, grinning. Lydia wondered if perhaps he was drunk. He hadn't answered her question and, besides, she had never seen a sober person smile so much.

M? Mark? No. Martin.... no, she didn't think it was M either.

"Hello, can I get you something?"

"How are you today?" He asked, ignoring her question again. If he kept this up, he was really going to start pissing her off.

"I'm good, do you want a drink or something?" She answered quickly.

"Did you have a good weekend?" he asked, grinning again. If he wasn't being so annoying, she thought she could probably appreciate his smile. It was all positive and toothy and bright eyed and one that probably would be attractive- if he wasn't being so fucking annoying.

"Not particularly," she told him, gritting her teeth to stop herself from snapping at him. He chuckled at her and she frowned. She hadn't said anything funny, she never was a very funny person. "Do you-"

"I was off work yesterday," he said, sounding a bit less excited and a bit more melancholic. "You didn't work on Saturday, did you?"

"No...." Lydia narrowed her eyes at him, standing up a little straighter. She wasn't sure what this guy's game was but it was making her feel sceptical about him a-plenty. "Why?"

"Uh, well," he ran his hand through his light brown hair, messing it up a little, "I dropped in here- just for a beer, not, I mean.... I didn't see you."

He was nervous and it was very obvious. He was fidgeting a lot, trying to avoid eye contact with her and drumming his fingers on the counter. Lydia didn't know what was up with him because he wasn't drunk. He didn't reek of alcohol and he could talk perfectly fine, so what was up with him?

"So, are you going to-"

"I'll have a beer," he said, his smile falling a little. Then he added quickly, "Please."

Lydia leaned down, picking a bottle of beer out from the fridge. Then she found a glass and stood up, placing them both on the counter in front of Raymond.

Raymond. That was it. His name was Raymond. She knew it was in the back of her mind somewhere.

He looked up when she put the beer down, smiling hastily as if he had forgotten. "Thanks."

Lydia leaned back against the wall, eyeing the booths behind Raymond to make sure that no one had left, or was acting dodgy. When she looked back, the guy had already downed half of his beer and had his eyes fixed on something above her head. Lydia tipped her head up, following his gaze. She had never noticed the small clock there before.

"Where are you from?" Raymond asked, looking back down at Lydia. His lips tweaked up a little when he looked at her and Lydia frowned again. She didn't want to tell him too much about herself, she knew how many creeps there were around the city.

"The midlands," she shrugged, looking behind Ray again. A teenage girl had sat down at one of the booths by herself and was looking around as if she was waiting for a waiter. Judy was never around when a customer needed her.

Lydia sighed, pushing herself away from the wall, and walked away from Raymond. She ducked under the little entrance to the counter and opened the kitchen door. She was hit with a cloud of steam immediately and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust. When they did, she looked around the place to see if she could spot Judy's blonde hair. When that failed, she settled on what was her last resort and what she usually ended up doing.

"Judy!!!" She shouted, waiting for the girl to come running towards her- well, maybe not run. As if on cue, Judy peeked out from behind one of the large cookers, a surprised look on her face.

"Huh?"

"You're needed out here," Lydia answered, trying not to sound angry at Judy's dumbfounded expression.

"Mmkay," Judy said, looking bored, as usual. She followed Lydia out of the kitchen, walking slowly and lazily, as usual. Judy was worse at her job than Lydia. At least Lydia actually did something, Judy needed instructions for everything that she did. The only reason she had got the job was because she was Gerry's niece.

She never gets warnings, Lydia thought bitterly, returning to behind the counter. Shooter had arrived, sitting in front of the bar counter. He was a man that Lydia guessed was in his late forties. He was short, with a bald head and a gut the size of a beach ball. Lydia didn't actually know why he was called Shooter, but she was pretty sure that he wasn't handy with a gun.

Lydia walked over to him, picking a glass up along the way. "Guinness?"

"Yes, yes, yes, love," Shooter answered, looking up at the television on the wall where a football match was playing. Lydia had already turned on the tap and started pouring the alcohol into the glass. Shooter was an alcoholic and Lydia could have bet that he was already drunk, even though he had just walked in to the bar.

Lydia placed the glass on the counter in front of the man, who handed her the money for the drink. She turned around and opened the cash register, putting the money in. While she was doing it, she stole a glimpse over to Raymond. He had finished his beer and was leaning on his hand, looking right at Lydia. He looked away from her quickly as soon as he noticed her looking back at him. He did it so quickly that it made it obvious to Lydia that he had been looking at her for a while.

Lydia walked over to him, catching him as he flicked his eyes up to the clock again. "Do you have to be somewhere?" She asked, sounding more impatient than she had intended.

"Yeah- well, it can wait a while.... before eight," he told her absentmindedly.

Lydia looked up at the clock: it was just after seven. "You should go," Lydia told him, picking up his empty bottle and glass and placing them on one of the shelves.

Raymond smiled at her and she looked back at him. She wasn't much of a smiler, not without something to influence her, at least. "I probably should," he conceded. He stood up and adjusted his bag on his back. He looked at her as if he was going to tell her something, then he shook his head and smiled again. "See you around, Lydia," he told her, rushing out of the place.

Lydia watched him leaving. There was something strange about him- about the way he acted- and Lydia had no idea what it was. She had never been good at reading other people, so she tended to keep to herself. Lydia shook her head, she didn't even know the guy, so why would she care?

She moved towards the end of the counter to attend to some customers, pushing Raymond out of her mind.