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‘I’ve been told I can register as I’m resident here. I’m not sure it’s right though?’
‘Why not? If you’re planning on staying, it affects you the same, no?’ I down my chaser, start on the beer.
I tell her how I’m pretty much gutted I can’t have a vote, even though I’m half Scottish. How it’s like an infectious excitement that it’s got everyone so massively fired up. I do a bounce on the barstool as I talk, grin up at her.
‘It is a big thing, that’s for sure.’ Her gorgeous smile goes straight through me again.
It’s a tricky balance with girls, rushing it can be counter-productive, but already I’m thinking of asking when she finishes work.
Then she drops her bombshell. ‘My fiancé says I need to stop thinking like a tourist, if I’m settling here.’
I lean forward, open mouthed, looking for a trace of sheepish in that smile. Literally not a hint.
‘He’s doing the evening shift at six, so you’ll meet him if you’re still around,’ she adds helpfully.
‘Fiancé?’ I stammer after a large gulp of beer to numb the plummeting disappointment.
‘Crazy, isn’t it?’ she’s like totally oblivious. ‘My mum thinks I’m too young.’ Rosa starts polishing glasses. Keeps on about her mum refusing to congratulate her.
I drink some more and stare into the glass. Here we go a-fucking-gain. Gethin Getting It Wrong With Girls. Trouble is, ninety percent of girls are way too attractive for their own good, but they act like they don’t have a clue about it. The way they push up their tits in their little lacy bras, widen their eyes with their smoky makeup, and get you thinking everything’s a come-on when it’s totally not.
I slap myself down for this sexist thinking, but the fact is I find girls hard to fathom. Take Sonia, the first girl I properly got with: losing our virginity together at her suggestion, then her saying the next day we should just be friends. Making me worry like hell it was because I came too soon, even though at the time she said it didn’t matter.
I look up and Rosa’s right in front of me, tits nicely lined up at eye level. I rest my fucking case. Shaking my head, I look quickly away, thinking of Emily.
With Emily I thought I’d finally got it right, as in I gave her so much space she had to ask if I fancied her. I can still see her lying on the grassy bank in the park, her little knowing smile, eyes half closed, the rise and fall of her breasts with her breath: ‘So, what are you waiting for?’ Being with Emily was like nothing I’d ever known; tender and responsive, sexy as hell. But I have literally no idea why she dumped me, and it still hurts like fuck. I polish off my pint, followed with a deep sigh.
‘Are you all right?’ Rosa’s concern sounds so genuine it brings tears to my eyes.
Fuck. No. I don’t trust myself to speak. She lifts my empty glass and I nod, handing her the whisky glass too. Fuckit. At least I didn’t actually make a move on this one. What a great fucking day I’m having.
The cyclists shout cheery goodbyes and Robbie retreats behind his newspaper.
‘I haven’t upset you now, have I?’ Rosa asks softly as she sets down my drinks.
You’d think she’d want rid of me? I don’t fucking get it.
‘I’m just an idiot, don’t take any notice,’ I mutter.
‘I hope I didn’t, you didn’t?’ She steps back. ‘I was only being friendly.’
‘It’s OK, I’m not good at reading women?’ I down the whisky, slam the glass. Feel like some piss-head American movie character.
‘Well, you’ll not be the first, will you?’ Rosa starts polishing up the bar.
‘You needn’t worry, as in I’m not going to be hanging around much longer.’ I take a long draft of beer.
‘Oh, there’s no rush. It’s nice to have someone to talk to, it gets that boring on the afternoon shift.’
I’m not convinced she means this, but I’ll take company on any terms right now.
‘So, are you up here on your own?’ she asks.
‘Couldn’t be more so,’ I slur into my glass. Oh God, how maudlin does that sound? I feel suddenly pissed as fuck. I should go before I make any more of a tit of myself.
‘What brought you here, then?’ Somehow, she sounds like she is actually OK with listening to me.
‘Hah! Whole reason I’m here, as in here right now, like a failed mission to find why I’m here, as in here at all, maybe?’
