Twist Of Fate

Forty Seven

CHLOE

Two years earlier

My eyes catch his across the bar and he gives me a half smile, half smirk; one eye closing in an attempt at a wink. My stomach flips over nervously, and I give him a tentative smile in return. He is one of the regulars and, according to Katie, goes by the name of Fred. Beside me Katie catches this exchange and sniggers, shaking her head as she pulls a pint and sets it down on the bar, holding her hand out to her customer for him to drop a handful of loose change into her outstretched palm. 

I have only worked here a week, and I'm still learning the ropes. Katie isn't particularly friendly - she seems to prefer watching me make mistakes rather than helping me learn. I finish serving my own customer, shut the till and look along the bar to see if anyone else is waiting to be served. Nobody is, and out of the corner of my eye I see him sidling towards me, the same look on his face as before, almost appraising me.

"Alright," he greets me, and I nod, feeling a blush rising in my cheeks. "Just wondering if you wanted to come over when you finish here? Gonna chill out for a bit, listen to some music with some mates. You up for it?"

"Yes, that would be nice," I squeak. I silently hope Katie isn't watching this.

I have lived in my flat for a year now, and haven't made any friends yet. This is part of the reason I took this job at the Flute and Fiddle - to be around people my own age. Socialising isn't my strong point. Years of bullying at secondary school has zapped my confidence and subsequently I shy away from meeting people. But I am so lonely, and I know I have to step out of my comfort zone unless I want to be a hermit forever.

"I'll wait for you when you finish."

He isn't particularly good looking. I don't fancy him or anything - I just want to be accepted into a group, and he is the only person so far to show any interest in being friends. I'm still nervous, though, when I hang my apron on the back of the kitchen door at eleven p.m., say goodbye to Ian and Colette (the owners of the pub) and push open the door to leave the bar lounge. He is waiting for me outside with a couple of other guys of a similar age I presume, smoking a strange smelling cigarette and leaning against the wall with one leg bent at the knee, his foot flat against the bricks. When he sees me he stubs the cigarette out on the wall and flicks the butt onto the grass where it joins hundreds of others, to my silent disapproval.

The walk across the estate doesn't take long. They group is rowdy and silly, pushing and shoving each other and laughing noisily despite the late hour. I can't imagine the residents of the tower block appreciate being woken up by a gang of tipsy idiots, but then again maybe the people behind these miserable grey walls are all tipsy and having their own fun.

His flat is on the fifth floor of a block similar to mine. The stairwell is concrete, cold and uninviting, and smells like someone has emptied their bladder numerous times in the entrance. He pushes open his front door and flicks the light on. Inside is basic: old fashioned furniture, stained, threadbare carpets and mess cluttering every surface. Dirty dishes are stacked up on the worktops and ash trays are over-flowing with stubs. Empty beer cans lie on the coffee table, next to a Playstation controller and a small tin of tobacco. 

"Make yourselves at home, everyone," he says, sweeping his arm around the lounge as though it were a palace. The others flop down on the sofa and armchairs. Someone switches the television on and fires up the playstation. He emerges a minute later with several cans of beer. I wait awkwardly at the side, ignored by them all.

"Oi, shift off the sofa there. Let Chloe sit down."

A blond guy with a ratty goatee curses under his breath but hauls himself up, and he guides me into the now vacant space, squeezing in next to me so our thighs are touching. He hands me a beer can and although I don't much like the taste of alcohol, I don't want to be rude by refusing. I want to fit in. I want to be cool. I want them to like me.