Summer Soap, Part 3: Love? Boys only have lust on their minds...

Barkeeper Clare:

The wafts of coffee steam trailed my pattering steps down Oliver Plunkett Street. I had eaten too much of my sausage roll on the way and was left with an awkward three centimetres to hold between my teeth while I shuffled my right hand through each pocket painstakingly. Damnit. I finally remembered, and plucked the key out of the bag with Aoife’s pain au chocolat, where I had put it earlier for ‘easy access’.

I clicked the lock out of place and entered the skinny hallway. Then I bolted the door shut behind me, before scurrying up the stairs, dripping dark russet coffee stains on every other step.

When I entered, Aoife was already perched around the small U-shaped bar, head crooked in absorption of whatever new novel she had purchased that morning. Despite owning the bar, the woman went through books like how I went through men.

A single raised finger paused my tongue while I swept behind the bar, her lips softly mouthing the words as she finished her page. I slid Aoife her coffee and pastry and flew into setting up the bar for service.

After a few minutes, she finished the chapter and her voice called over. From there the two of us chatted the morning dew away before, with a start, I remembered the front door was still locked. I hurried down the stairs. The bolt slid heavily out of place, and a sharp exhale responded from the other side.

Anne’s long red nails curled around the door before her plastered smile peered through the crack. She stepped in with that look of judgement only the elderly can manage, and shooed me up the stairs ahead of her.

Inside, the two older women greeted each other and flew into conversation. Anne never drank anyway, so I knew she’d be fine alone with Aoife, giving me the opportunity to slip outside for a quick cigarette.

It burned too quickly, leaving me stranded in the humid summer air, flesh glued together by sweat, wrapping around excuses to not re-enter. When I begrudgingly did, the cool breeze of the Low-A was my only comfort.

I trickled up the stairs two at a time in staggered steps, counting the stains I would have to wash.

Anne awaited me within the bar. “Clare! Took you long enough. One Murphy’s for our new friend Alexis!”

I was snapped from my trance. My eyes flickered across the small room. Anne didn’t drink. Aoife was gone. I hadn’t seen her leave. A young woman was in Aoife’s seat. I hadn’t seen her enter.

“Whenever you have the chance, no rush.” The young woman flipped a smile. “Genuinely.”

“Oh you’re too kind, really, sweetie. She needs to be put to work, this one,” Anne said, turning away from me and back toward Alexis.

The newcomer was dressed entirely monochrome, black from head to toe, except for a purple notebook laid along her thigh.

“Back to what I was saying.” Anne threw one last glare over her shoulder, eyes dragging in a roll toward the taps. “Sure, ‘love’ might make some better, but only some... the few golden nuggets...”

I slipped my over-shirt off and opened a window before stepping behind the bar.

While I poured the beer, Anne continued. “But that’s only a small per cent! Only when it’s pure and true. Most don’t even know what love is, they just feel lust and decide to make themselves all virtuous about it.

“When I was young all the boys came cooing, as I’m sure you can tell, bringing flowers and chocolates and all sorts of cards. They all just wanted in my pants. That’s all boys ever want, as I’m sure you know well. I won’t sugarcoat it for your little research.”

The newcomer’s Murphy’s was finished settling and I topped it off before gingerly resting it before her. In response, Alexis slid a tenner across the bar. Double the price, not that she had asked.

“Well, I appreciate that.” At rest, the young woman’s lips were pursed, her eyes analysing every piece of Anne’s carefully put together visage. “But, you’re talking about lust. What of love?”

“Well, I’d argue that for half the population, that is ‘love’, sweetie.” Anne made small air quotes while I slid the change back across the bar. “Here, tell me, if I found a baby animal injured and nursed it back to health, would I be a good person?”

“Sure, I’d say,” Alexis responded, lying in wait for Anne’s next step.

I sighed, searching for where Aoife had gone. Anne was picking up steam, her voice growing shriller than usual. I had agreed to work the earlier shifts so I could work on my thesis, not deal with whatever this was.

“But what if I did it so I could raise the animal and eat it once it was fat enough? Would I be a good person then?”

“Depends on who you ask. Some see no bother. What’s your point?”

Anne rolled her eyes and exhaled in disgust, long nails plucking a thin box from her coat. She tapped on its bottom for a moment, before sliding a tab of gum from within and popping it into her mouth. Her thumb remained for a moment, scratching at the line where lip met chin.

Anne had a habit of getting like this when she wasn’t hearing what she wanted to hear. I poured myself a whiskey. Fortification. Aoife was nowhere to be seen, not that she’d mind too much. I’d risk pulling my phone out, but the woman had a habit of peaking her head in at just the perfect moment, and to Aoife a phone in a social setting was worse than a drunk bartender. Signs were plastered everywhere warning staff and customers alike that they should ‘try a conversation instead’.

“Well?” Alexis began, growing restless at Anne’s dismissal.

Anne whirled her lips in before slowly opening them. But before she spoke, the door creaked open. I gently pushed my tumbler deeper under the shelf, but it wasn’t Aoife, just another customer. Short with dark hair, a jaw to cut glass, and veins popping from his forearms to make me blush.

“Oh!” The new man’s head curved in the air. “Alexis! What a coincidence to see you here?!”

The younger man slid into the space behind Anne. Alexis did not answer, or even look in his direction, but instead turned further toward the bar, chewing at the corner of her cheek.

The newcomer stepped toward me instead, before reaching across the bar and raising the change that still remained in front of Alexis. “One Beamish, if I may.”