Blowing It by Kate Aaron Read Free Book Online

indicating the pub
with a jerk of my thumb. “It was a terrible idea.”
    “Maybe another day, when it’s quieter,” he
suggested, too magnanimous to admit it had been a disaster.
    I paused at the corner of the street and watched
the traffic lights change from red to green. A car horn honked, and the traffic
surged forward.
    “Is there anywhere else you’d like to go?” Magnus
asked, looking around. “Perhaps one of the other bars will be better.”
    I shook my head. “I don’t know.”
    “What would you normally be doing on a Friday
night?”
    I laughed. “Working, probably. Or watching TV.”
    “I thought you went out?” Magnus frowned. “With
your friend. Ryan, was it?”
    “Yeah, sometimes. He’s out tonight, actually.”
    “Where?” Magnus glanced around like he was
expecting to see somebody I knew.
    “Elm Park.”
    “That’s not far. That is, um, if you want to go….”
He trailed off, looking abashed.
    “I didn’t think you’d want to be subjected to my
friends so soon.” I smiled to let him know I wasn’t unhappy he’d suggested
meeting them. “Unless you meant we can do this another time?” Dammit, this is
why I didn’t date. Too much insecurity.
    “I’d like to meet your friends, if you don’t think
it’s too soon.”
    “Do you?” I asked anxiously. “Think it’s too soon,
I mean.”
    “I don’t know.” He frowned. “Maybe the fact we
aren’t sure means it is. We barely know each other.”
    “Fuck that.” I decided to take some initiative.
“We’re out now, so let’s stay out. If you don’t mind karaoke, I’m sure Ryan
would love to meet you.”
    Magnus pulled a face. “Do I have to sing?”
    I laughed and took his arm. “Not unless you really
want to.”
    ҉҉҉
    It was eight thirty by the time we got to The Drake.
The flashing, multicoloured lights from the emcee’s stand were shining through
the windows when we approached, the sound of singing audible even from the car
park.
    “It’s not so bad inside,” I promised, seeing
Magnus’s face.
    We passed a handful of smokers huddled beside the
doorway, and I nodded to a woman I recognised as another regular. Inside, the
bar had that peculiar, musty scent unique to old pubs: stale ale and sticky
spilled spirits, fifty years’ worth of tobacco smoke ingrained in the
threadbare upholstery.
    The karaoke was set up on a raised platform at one
end of the horseshoe-shaped room, several tables placed before it between the
booths built along the exterior wall and the central bar. Aside from the DJ’s
flashing lights, the pub was dimly-lit, and I paused for a moment to study the
faces at the tables, looking for Ryan and Sameer.
    “This way,” I said, tugging Magnus’s hand as I saw
Ryan raise his arm and gesticulate wildly.
    By the time we reached the booth, he was on his
feet, a broad smile plastered across his face.
    I shot him a warning look as I made introductions,
and he insisted on buying the first round. While he was gone, Magnus and I
pulled up chairs alongside the booth, where Sameer was sitting with Elaine, the
receptionist from Ryan’s school, and her husband, Mark.
    “You singing tonight?” I asked Elaine.
    “Only if you are.”
    I nudged Magnus to get his attention over the
caterwauling of the woman on the mic. “Don’t let her fool you,” I said, nodding
at Elaine. “She can actually sing.”
    Elaine smiled, accepting the compliment. Had she
been born thirty years later, she’d probably have ended up on some reality TV
show, singing before a national audience. Instead, she saved her talent for Friday
nights at The Drake, blasting out Bonnie Tyler and Tina Turner to the roar of a
small but very appreciative crowd.
    Ryan returned, hands clasped around three full pint
glasses, the contents slopping over the sides as we took them from him, freeing
him to return to the bar for my rum and Coke, Elaine’s white wine, and Sameer’s
OJ. Sometimes I wondered how he’d managed to marry a teetotaller,