Grey clouds

Grey Clouds

The Gallowstree Pub was three and a half songs away from home. Working there was convenient at 17 but now at 25 and being local meant I had to have an array of excuses to cover sick days, holidays and newbies not turning up. The Pub was simple, friendly and an easy place to work. Quiz and karaoke nights were the best. 2 4 1 Mondays were also pretty good fun.

Having managed to work my way up to ‘team leader’ in my 8 years of service, I’d established a good rapport with customers. Even though I thought most of them were sleazes, perverts or on the brink of death- I had a soft spot for most of them. I’d seen 3 managers come in and go in my time. The first fled to Spain not too long after I started (not my fault, promise), the second didn’t want to move in upstairs and soon quit after realising why upstairs accommodation was insisted upon, and now we had Fran who moved up from the South, seeking a new start after her divorce. Fran was easy going but had a distaste for poor punctuality and extended smoke breaks- which pissed a lot of people off. Fran took to me straightaway, mainly because of my time there but also because I was a non-smoker. She was alright, I guess. She paid me anyway.

Fran had a kid called Tom who had acne and dropped out of sixth form after throwing a chair through the atrium window when his girlfriend dumped him. He seemed a nice lad on the surface, but I wondered what she must have said for him to kick off like that. Anyway, he was put on a few of the quieter shifts with me. Apparently, I was a ‘nice and friendly’ and also a ‘positive influence’. I wasn’t sure what the last bit meant. I mean I suppose we’re all nice and friendly on the service of things but me being a positive influence? I wasn’t too sure. If being a positive influence is being in the same job for 8 years because you don’t want to go to Uni or move out of your Dad’s house, then sure thing.

So I was working with this Tom kid on his first shift and after about half an hour of me showing him how to pull a pint, take cash, give out change and serve with a smile on his face, I find he’s asking me all sorts of weird questions.

‘You got a boyfriend then?’ he asked.

‘Nope. Do you?’ I replied.

‘Ew, I ain’t gay. I’m into girls.’

‘What’s wrong with being gay?’

‘Nothin’ I just prefer girls init?’

‘If there’s nothing wrong with being gay then why did you say ‘ew’?’

‘I dno I just did dint I?’

‘Another Guinness please love.’ We were interrupted by a customer, but I was already tired of this kid and his attitude. I’d seen so many of this sort come through and last weeks, sometimes months. There was always a bit of excitement around a new starter. A new workmate in a job like this meant there was a whole new getting to know you kinda fun going on. Sometimes you’d get some really decent, interesting people come through. We once had this Australian kid work with us who was studying bio-something or other up at Uni. He left in a hurry because his mum was ill, but it was that kinda stuff that kept this job interesting.

After I told him he needed to let the Guinness stand for a bit before topping it up he gave me a kind of a look. Like a sort of ‘I already knew that, what’s your problem’ kinda look. I decided to let this one slide. He was the boss’ son after all.

So that shift finished and I went back to find my Dad on the couch with half a bottle of brandy to his side. The TV was on, playing some historical documentary about World War 1. I could hear the explosions from the end of our drive. The ash tray on the coffee table was full and stinking the room out so I emptied it into the bin and told my Dad to go upstairs to bed. He told me to piss off and that I’m just like my mother. I barely remember my Mum but all that I know is that she was a bitch and she died because she was too much of a bitch.

Anyway, he stumbled on up the stairs muttering a few things about me and my bitchiness and I grabbed a beer and flicked through my phone. I only ever go on Facebook at the end of the day. I don’t like to think about where my old school friends are up to with their lives during the day. Some are pregnant, some are engaged, some are at Uni, some have just started their ‘dream job’, some tag their new friends in memes about ordering shots or being a lightweight, some were fat and are now thin and some are thin who were fat. Some take pictures of everything they eat and others moan about immigration, inequality and politicians like they have always been critical thinkers. Whichever way it goes, it’s quite overwhelming to consider these things during the day- so I leave for night time, when things are calmer.

I looked at my watch and realised it was 1am. I was awake though and still felt like drinking. I drank some of Dad’s brandy. He was too pissed to notice. It tasted warm but the burn felt good, like it was burning through something lodged at the back of my throat. I sat back into my chair and thought about what I would have done if I completed college and went to Uni. I thought about learning to drive and then thought about downloading one of those dating apps everyone goes on about. I drank some more, not realising how quickly and smoothly it was going down. I flicked through the music channel on TV and fell asleep to ‘MTV classic: 90s saddest songs’.

Dad woke me up. He filled up the kettle to make some coffee. There was a blanket on me which I don’t remember putting on. He walked through.

‘You should sleep in your bed, that’s what I bought it for. There’s some coffee in the pot if you want it. Oh, and when you gonna replace that brandy of mine that you drank?’

He left and locked the door before I could say goodbye. This was our relationship now. Short and to the point. I don’t even know how it happened. 

I fell back asleep after he left and then my phone buzzed. It had buzzed 8 times. 5 missed calls and 3 text messages. Ah shit, I was late for work.

I ran in, put my head down and held my hands up, apologising to the morning crew who had to stay on. Fran, thankfully, didn’t seem too pissed off which was weird because like I said before, she couldn’t stand ill punctuality. It was the one thing she always expected and banged on about at each team meeting. She had a face like a slapped arse but she didn’t say anything to me about it, its like she knew it wasn’t like me so it was alright.

‘Thought something had happened to you there, just got up?’

‘Slept through my alarm,’ I replied. I topped up Harry’s Guinness that was left standing whilst she popped the lids off a few colas which she was in the midst of doing.

‘We’ve all been there.’

I found my till key, smiled and began to work my way through the customers. There was a hell of a rush on, but nothing I’d not seen before. Thinking about it, I think this was one of the few jobs in the world where if you turn up late enough and its busy, then people will actually be glad to see you when you do arrive- least that was what I found anyway.

The lunchtime rush had ended and I found myself polishing glasses, wiping and re-wiping surfaces, humming to the music from the bar area and making idle small talk with the afternoon drunks. It was the usual shit. But every now and then they did have something interesting to say. In the years I’d been working there I’d learnt that the drunk brain can recollect facts one had read in a waiting room magazine from twenty years before at a moments notice. I was changing the batteries in the remote for the TV when one of them came up to me and started telling me about how this bloke called Georges Leclanche invented the battery. Anyway, I’d learnt something which was cool but before I noticed they were soon bickering about the planet and climate change.

‘It’s all a farce, they just want to charge us more for tax. Keeping their pockets lined!’ argued one.

‘Tell that to the ducks round at coronation park, three last week were wrapped up in plazzy bags,’ argued another.

‘The problem is with those crooks in Westminster, they’re doing as much as a baby with a bible.’

I listened, blank faced and a little confused.

 The day left and night came. The evening staff dragged themselves in and took my position on the bar. I felt okay and decided to spend my tips on a pint for myself.

‘You drink Stella?!’ asked Dom. Dom always came in for exactly 3 pints of stella and a whisky after work. He was a teacher and always jokes about how he needs ‘his medicine’ at the end of a day. He sounded both a little bit surprised and concerned when he saw me glugging it back.

‘I dunno, just felt like it,’ I replied, taking a sip and offering a cheers. Our glasses clinked.

‘Strong man stuff that, you had a long day?’

‘Not really, I woke up late and came into a lunch time onslaught but that’s about as exciting as it got to be honest Dom- oh and I had to change the batteries in the remote for the TV.’

Dom looked around and scanned the bar to see if anyone was close by.

‘Do you like working here?’

‘I don’t not like working here.’

‘I mean, how long have you been here for now?’

‘Erm 7, no 8 years…’ I held onto that thought.  ‘8 years.’

‘Thank you for your service,’ he saluted. I smiled and took another sip. ‘You must have seen a few of the managers come and go though?’

‘Yeah, yeah I have.’ I clasped the pint glass with both of my hands, letting the condensation seep between my fingers. There was a pause in our conversation.

‘I don’t know Dom,’ I said.

‘Don’t know what?’

‘I know what you’re thinking- ‘when is she going to move on? When is she going to learn to drive or uni or house or whatever’’ I said, in an unattractive, adolescent-esque voice.

‘I’m not thinking anything, I just asked that’s all,’ he smirked and took a sip to cover his mouth.

‘I probably should do something else, I just don’t know what there is to do?’

Dom took a deep breath before he spoke. ‘I didn’t know what to do before I went into teaching, I had all sorts of jobs: landscaper, cleaner, lorry driver, truck driver, I worked at a few consulting agencies but then I thought I needed a change. I wasn’t sure on teaching but committing to this one thing is the best thing I did.’

‘I thought you didn’t like it though, I mean no offence, but with your ‘medicine’ n everything, well I thought you sort of tolerated your job.’

‘I don’t love my job. Anyone who loves their job hasn’t worked a day in their life and if they get a kick out of that, then fair play to them but what I will say is that this job has its perks. There’s no better feeling than seeing that moment on a kids’ face where they suddenly understand something that they didn’t before. I mean I still get called every name under the sun and have a never ending conveyor belt of marking, but I do okay.’

‘I hear ya Dom.’

Our conversation simmered down and soon Dom was playing pool and watching the football. I was on my third stella and thought about heading back home. I felt a little lightheaded when I got up but no one noticed my wobble. I walked over and put my glass on the bar.

‘Don’t sleep in tomorrow!’ I heard someone say from behind the glass washer.

‘Yup!’ I raised my arm and left out of the double doors.

I went to the Tesco across the road to fetch some brandy for Dad. When I got to the doors the shop was closing. The lady, who had definitely seen me coming, ignored my presence and simply slapped the closed sign on the door.

I walked back, slowly and noticed a windy chill. A drop of water landed on my head. I saw a bus sign go past with Leonardo Dicaprio, Margot Robbie and Jennifer Lawrence on. I thought about getting a McDonalds but thought I should save my money. The rain began to come down faster and faster. I arrived at the top of our road, still hearing the World War 1 documentary which Dad was watching the night before, the rain was pouring and pouring. I walked drearily towards the door, wriggling the key from my jean pocket. I walked in and saw Dad staring into the TV set, brandy in hand, motionless and grey. The monitor buzzed, the wind howled, my Dad was a statue, dead in its history.

The door was left ajar, enough to awaken him from his lull.

‘Close that pissing door will you?’ he commanded. My legs ached. I missed Mum.

I walked out and closed it from the outside. I sat down on the doorstep, the rain pounding down, and looked up.