Page 13 of On The Edge

8

Two hours later, the girls were up in Jess’s apartment getting ready for their big night out. Jess had lent Cat a beautiful royal blue dress with a cute set of crimson earrings and choker.

“Those colours go so well together Cat, you really suit blue!” Jess looked her friend up and down. “You’re so lucky, I wish I was tall!” She pouted.

“It’s not all that great, I wish I was smaller most of the time. I hate running the risk of being taller than men!” Cat applied her deep red lipstick and looked herself over in the mirror. She unpinned her hair, letting the deep auburn curls spill onto her shoulders.

“And you have gorgeous curly hair,” Jess moaned as she sat cross-legged on the bed teasing her locks with an old pair of tongs.

“Hey, don’t start that – we all want what we don’t have!” Cat protested, “give me straight luscious blonde hair and I’d be over the moon!” Cat stood up, after crouching before the mirror on the floor and padded over to Jess, who was still pouting under her thick eyelashes and curled-to-perfection bangs. “We can’t all look like Marilyn Monroe you know.” Cat pecked her on the cheek and chuckled. This statement seemed to please Jess even as she wiped the lipstick off her cheek. After more hair tweaking touchups they finally left the studio and went to celebrate Jess’s sale.

Dusk had come upon the village, and with the clear street lamps highlighting their way the girls avoided the cracks with their heels. Linking arms, they passed the bar Cat had just begun work in, and carried along the street a little further. Several people stood outside the pub on the south street corner in a haze of smoke, laughing and chatting amongst themselves, and the girls stepped past their fumes carefully and entered the pub. All down one side of the room was the bar, which was busy with a few members of staff rushing from customer to customer. There was a large fireplace on the other side of the room, with clusters of sofa chairs around a crackling fire. A small two-seater leather couch became free, and Jess wasted no time in dragging Cat by the hand to the available spot. Once she had seated Cat, Jess left in pursuit of drinks. Cat looked around the room to see many age groups crammed into the space: older men stood and sat around the bar, and the younger crowd played the pool table in the far corner. The jukebox started playing a cheesy pop song, to which three young girls near her jumped up from their seats and began performing some rather extreme dance moves. Cat took off her jacket and snuggled down on the sofa, enjoying watching everyone around her as Jess came back, glasses in hand and sat down next to her.

All of a sudden the jukebox was shut off, and an acoustic guitar sounded. Cat squinted and adjusted her eyes to find the culprit, sat in a gloomy corner; a tall man wearing jeans and a green pullover, seated on a threadbare stool and strumming a battered-looking guitar. His voice was deep and gravelly, but very harmonious, and direct, somehow. His singing paused while he strummed, deeply absorbed in his song. His dark curly hair shook as he plucked his guitar faster. Cat was enraptured, and could not look away. There was something hypnotising about the music, and about this man playing before her. She wouldn’t have looked away if it were not for Jess’s hand pushing her chin up to close her gaping mouth.

“What?” Cat gasped as she snapped out of her daze.

Jess looked round-eyed at Cat. “You literally had your mouth hanging open lusting after that musician!” She laughed teasingly.

“I was not!” Cat snapped her mouth shut, “I was just listening to the song!” she responded defensively.

“Sure you were!” Jess winked.

The girls went back to talking to one another while the music continued. Jess was interested in what Cat was doing with her art, so Cat told her about the night she ventured out and sketched the harbour. Shortly afterwards a couple squeezed in beside them who Jess knew: Kate, who was a plump girl with bobbed mousy brown hair and a bright smile, and Michael, a shy-looking boy in his mid-twenties with tanned skin and glasses taped together at the bridge.

“Kate works in the bank down the road, and Mikey works on a fishing boat,” Jess informed Cat, while the couple held hands and grinned at their friend. “Mikey is a good person to know, he gives me the odd lobster or two!” Jess nudged Mikey playfully.

“Only if she’s good!” nodded Mikey, chuckling shyly. “But I do the boats just for the time being. I’m also the DJ at Club Blue on Saturday nights and I sing too. I’ll be on after Paddy’s set, to play a few covers”.

“Who’s Paddy?” Cat asked.

“He’s the guy playing now,” Mikey pointed to the musician still singing his deep tones into the microphone. Once the song had ended, Cat started clapping, and whooped louder than anyone else in the room. The man behind the microphone looked her way and smiled, surprised. Something jolted in Cat's stomach as she realised: she had met this man before. He was the kind stranger on the ferry who had given her the glass of water.

“He works on the ferry!” Cat blurted out abruptly.

“He does aye, a good guy. He works on the car ferry every few days, goes to the mainland and back again. He also does a few acoustic nights around the place.” Mikey continued speaking to Cat while Kate leaned over to Jess, engrossed in their own conversation.

“No he didn’t!” Jess cried out then clasped her hand over her mouth and the two girls giggled.

“Those two love to gossip,” Mikey rolled his eyes. “Kate gets all the news before anyone else - since she works in the bank, all the customers chat to her while they sort out their finances”.

“How long have you and Kate been together?”

“Oh a few years,” Mikey smiled over to Kate affectionately. “Known each other for ages, and our parents are all good friends, so everyone was delighted when we got together!” He took a sip of his drink and got up.

“Sorry, I’m up now. Great talking to you Cat.”

Mikey kissed Kate and went off to the stage to set up his guitar. Most people in the pub continued to talk and order drinks without looking at the musicians, or really listening to the songs. Cat looked over to the stage, where both men were talking and laughing while Michael prepared his set. Cat took the opportunity to look a little closer at Paddy while he packed away his guitar. His worn jeans were a little ripped at the knee, and he wore a black plain t-shirt under his green pullover, but he looked clean and smart. Without intending to, Cat thought back to the first time she met Dave. She had been out at a bar with a few friends, and he had been sat in a booth at the back in a group of men. He looked successful, confident and happy, she recalled. He had worn a rather flashy suit, his tie loosened around his neck. Cat must have gone to the ladies toilet about four times that night before he paid her any attention. Her hair had been an electric blue, pinned right back in a high ponytail. Later that night when Dave had approached her, he had informed her she looked like a colourful Lara croft, which had made Cat laugh, and prompted an exchange of numbers. At that stage in her life, she had been confident; she hadn't cared what people thought of her, as she dyed her hair every colour of the rainbow. Looking back now on her old self, Cat smiled and wondered where the punky girl had disappeared to? Why had she changed? Then an almost forgotten memory popped into her head of the time before Dave’s sister’s wedding.

“Please, please make the effort Cat!” Dave had said to her over dinner one night.

“I am. I bought a dress and we’ll look great for the wedding,” she told him.

“Don’t you think it’s time to become an adult now,” he said pressing the subject.

“Look, I’m not dying my hair brown!” Cat insisted.

Dave sighed. “I didn’t want to say this. But it will look stupid, especially at a wedding. My family will be there and –”