Where Two Collide

Chapter Twenty-Seven - Cat

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Cat

It's late into my shift and the bar is all but dead, which is just fine by me. I'm sitting on the floor cross-legged taking stock of all the bottles we have on the shelves. I rubbed my face tiredly, although it had been quiet, today I just felt drained. I hadn't wanted to come in at all, and I think that a part of the reason I'd gone home sick from school was that I wanted to give myself a genuine reason to not come in.

When my mum started talking about driving lessons, the costs just started ticking up in my head. What was she thinking? They couldn't afford to get us driving lessons, they'd barely be able to afford to fund Alice's plans to study abroad as it was.

I'd snooped through their paperwork after that. I knew what I'd find, but I just needed to confirm it. I was right, and really hadn't wanted to be. They weren't just not doing great with money at the moment, they were haemorrhaging it. At this rate, they might lose the house.

I didn't have a choice, if I wanted to go forward with my own plans, I had to fund myself. This meant I had to keep working at the only place that would hire me.

This wasn't the worse part. The worst part was that I couldn't look Addie in the eye, and the only time I couldn't avoid her was when I was here.

When I'd arrived for my shift, I'd all but sprinted through the door, barely shouting a greeting at Kieran and Addie as I passed by. I got a brief look at her expression and she seemed to be more bemused by the speed at which I'd skidded past them.

What was I supposed to do? I couldn't stop and chat. What was I going to say? Oh hey Addie, I've been thinking about that kiss since I last saw you and your stupid beautiful face is sending me into a confusing spiral which, I really don't have the time to deal with right now. So, if you could just stay away from me that would be great, thanks. Come to think of it, that was perfect. It wasn't like I'd have said it in front of Kieran though, I'd rather be run over by a tractor carrying manure and be left flattened on the road and covered in poop.

"That new glass clearers smashed her third glass of the night," said Shelle.

I gazed up at Shelle, who was leaning against the bar, tapping her long-manicured fingers against the shiny wood top. "Another one already?" I asked. "That must be a record."

"Yeah, that's definitely record-breaking," she paused, and then sighed heavily. "I don't think she's going to last the night. Vickie's circling and she's in one of her moods tonight."

My eyes narrow at this. When the floor staff are short, they always pull people away from the bar, and then we end up short too. Vickie always prioritised a tidy floor over quick service at the bar. Not to mention it was always me stuck with the short straw, Shelle was the head bartender so she'd never be asked to step out onto the sticky floor, and I rarely worked with the other bar girls except on special nights when the business crowds sometimes booked out the whole bar. "Vickie needs to lay off the new people, she's always scaring them off before they get the hang of things."

Shelle shrugged. "It's her way of weeding out the weaklings," she said and kicked my foot affectionately with her five-inch hooker heels. "You've got to have a heart made of steel to be a girl in this world."

I shuddered as I heard the sound of smashing glass from across the room. I jumped to my feet and joined Shelle at the bar. "Is that number four?"

"Looks like she dropped a whole tray this time," Shelle remarked. "Ugh oh, here comes Vickie."

She was right, from the opposite side of the bar, where there was a door leading up to the office, Vickie was marching straight for the new girl. She had the expression of thunder, and we watched as she gestured wildly at the poor girl, whisper-shouting so we couldn't hear what she was saying. When she marched back, she passed the bar, snapping at Shelle, "how can one girl be so bloody useless?" It was hypothetical, but I did wonder myself.

As soon as Vickie had carefully closed the office door, no slamming involved though the situation might have called for it, the new girl burst into tears.

"Oh no, the poor girl," Shelle gasped.

I reached under the bar and tore off a couple of pieces of the kitchen roll we kept under there. "I've got it," I said, and hurried across the room.

She had her knees on the sticky floor and was picking up pieces of glass and putting it on the empty tray next to her, whilst desperately trying to dab away her tears with the sleeve of her other hand.

"Here, take this," I said, handing her the sheet of paper.

She took it gratefully and wiped her face. "Thank you," she breathed. Her eyes were all red and swollen, getting rid of the tears wasn't going to help with that now. "I'm such a mess, and tonight is my first shift, I literally don't think it could have gone any worse."

I open my mouth to disagree with her, but it occurs to me that lying isn't going to help her keep this job. Instead I bend down and help her pick up the shards of glass from the floor. "It's hard work here. If you can't do it, there's no shame in that. But if you can toughen up and maybe... slow down a little, I think you'll be alright."

She sniffed, and picked up the tray, standing with me. "Thanks, you're right, crying isn't going to make this any easier. I need to get my shit together."

"You'll be fine, just don't rush so much, we only have so many glasses." I smiled at her, then headed back to my place behind the bar.

"A tenner she won't be back for her next shift," said Shelle as she picked at her fingernails.

"Nah," I said, turning around and leaning my back against the bar so that I was looking up at our fantastic array of gins. "The girls got a thicker shell than she thinks, she'll be alright."

"Let's hope so," said Shelle. "Or that'll be your job again."

 I made a face and crossed my fingers that the new girl could get her shit together. Even if she could, there was no certainty that she'd still keep her job, especially with Vickie in one of her moods.

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