[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
booths, assorted tables for two and a long bar. It smelled like a pub, too. He could
immediately identify at least one item on the chalkboard menu leek soup. His
grandmother had made leek soup.
There was a small raised stage in the corner. A band of scruffy-looking musicians
were crowded onto it and playing raucous Celtic music that spilled out onto the sidewalk
every time someone opened the door.
And, even knowing that Kate had been pulling his chain, he still looked for the
Mrs. Bee-like waitresses in miniskirts. He didn t see any waitresses at all but he saw
Uncle Patrick.
Katie, darlin ! the man bellowed from behind the bar. Come here, come here! I
need you!
Uncle Patrick, I want you to meet somebody, she yelled over the din. This is
Doyle. His friends call him
Cal, Doyle said to Uncle Patrick over the heads of the guys lined up at the bar.
If Kate wanted him to behave, there was no point in throwing a nickname like Bugs out
for Joe College to jump all over.
Welcome to Paddy s, Cal, Uncle Patrick said. Katie, darlin , will you help me
now?
What can I do, Uncle Pat?
Uncle Patrick was already motioning her to come around to his side of the bar. He
immediately pinned a towel around her waist and dubbed her a bartender. To Doyle s
surprise, Kate fell right in, taking orders and filling frosted mugs with draft beer. She
brought him the first one.
Goldie s late, she said, apparently to explain her new job. Can you grab a seat
someplace? She carefully offered him the mug.
He had to part a few of the bar crowd so he could sit down on the only empty
stool. As predicted, the haircut was an object of interest he could feel eyes on his
head and his legs and walking cane. This particular bunch had the good sense not to
comment, but one of them kept staring.
Sometimes you hit the ground, Doyle said to him. Sometimes the ground hits
you.
The comment was completely lost on him, and he turned back to his friends.
The music stopped and immediately started up again, this time with a fiddle solo.
Uncle Patrick bustled around, laughing and waiting tables, clearly a man in his element.
Doyle used the opportunity to watch Kate.
Damn, he thought. She is so fine.
And he wasn t the only one who recognized it. She also knew her way around a
beer tap.
Two beers! a young punk standing next to Doyle yelled at her as she moved
down the bar with her hands full of mugs. She gave a short nod to show him that he d
heard him.
I bet she gives great head, he said to his buddy as Kate went past again.
Don t do it, Doyle thought. He s just being cute for his buddies.
The punk made another remark, one which Doyle didn t hear but which his
friends all appreciated. The kid was getting all pumped up here. Unfortunately, the Rules
of Engagement were crystal clear. No picking fights with the college crowd.
Doyle took a swallow of beer. It was cold and icy just like he liked it but his
whole arm ached with wanting to jerk the kid off his feet and sling him over the bar.
He only heard part of the next remark. knee pads.
Let it go. Let it go& .
Kate brought the punk his beers, and instead of handing her the money, he made a
grab for the elastic in the top of the yellow ruffle, clearly intending to pull it out and stuff
the money down the front of her dress. Doyle s hand shot out before he even thought
about it, knocking over the beers and grabbing the punk s forearm, twisting hard and
bringing him around so that they were face-to-face.
I am going to tell you this one time and one time only, son. Keep your hands
where they belong. You understand me?
The punk was clearly in a state of disbelief things like this didn t happen to him.
Up until now, he d obviously had a free hand to do and say whatever he pleased to the
hired help, no matter where he happened to find himself. He was trying hard to bluff it
out, trying to pretend the grip on his arm didn t hurt as much as Doyle knew it did.
Do you understand me! Doyle said again.
Yeah, the punk said finally. I understand.
Good, Doyle said, letting him go. He glanced at Kate. The entire brief incident
hadn t caused any disruption in the place. People still laughed and talked. The fiddler still
sawed away on his fiddle. But she was mad at him, not the punk.
She got the punk two more beers.
I can take care of myself! she said after the college kid had taken them and
gone.
I know that. I just happened to be closer.
She started to say something else, then didn t. She went back to tending bar. He
sat there and nursed his beer, totally out of sorts. What was he supposed to do? Let the
guy jerk her clothes half off her in the middle of a pub?
I didn t even swear, he said under his breath.
Cal!
He looked around. Uncle Patrick was motioning for him to come sit in a nearby
booth. He picked up his beer and hobbled over.
I appreciate what you did for Katie just now, Uncle Patrick said as he sat down.
I m glad somebody does, sir, Doyle said.
Ah, well. You know our Katie is a bit touchy about having to depend on people.
Doyle didn t say anything to that. Uncle Patrick stared at him across the table,
clearly with something else on his mind.
So you would be him, then? he said after a time.
Sir?
The lad who has the Meehan girls all in an uproar. Of course, some of them are
more in an uproar than others are, he said, nodding in Kate s direction. You re in the
army, are you?
Yes, sir.
Can you stay in in the shape you re in?
They ll find something for me, sir, if I want it.
Ah, but will you be happy at it?
Don t know, sir, Doyle said, watching Kate at work behind the bar, a fact that
didn t escape her uncle s notice.
I don t think he ll be bothering her again tonight, Uncle Patrick said.
Doyle took another swallow of beer. I expect there s more where he came from.
You know, lad, I ve been in an uproar about you myself.
I don t know what to say to that, sir.
Say nothing at all because I m more at ease about you and Katie now I ve met
you. Of course, that doesn t mean I won t kick your arse if you should ever happen to
need it.
Understood, sir, Doyle said, lifting his beer mug in a salute to the old man.
I hear you re a bit of a musician, Uncle Patrick said, taking Doyle by surprise.
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]