Besotted in Belfast

By the time Sam was on his second pint, Summer had only served him and one other customer all night, although he wasn't complaining. They were back on the friendship level they'd reached that afternoon. Sam had noticed the other staff infrequently glancing at them, but not in a judgmental or scornful way. He couldn't read their faces, but they seemed happy that she was talking with Sam.

A surge of students poured in after nine that had obviously preloaded on booze before coming out and Summer had to join her colleagues in serving. It didn't take long before she introduced Sam to Mike, who ran the student second shop who'd come out with other friends, Mark and Sandy, that she'd just served.

As Summer poured Sam a third pint, he explained his position to her friends, and Mike confirmed they had various rucksacks in stock. Whilst he enjoyed talking with the three, he missed Summer's company. As they asked questions about his experience in Dublin that led him to come to Belfast, he couldn't help sneaking peeks at Summer working, although he omitted any explanation over his reason for visiting Dublin.

Inevitably, after two pints, Sam felt the call and slipped off his stool whilst looking back around the hall for the facilities.

"You okay?" Mike asked.

"Ahem, just double checking where the little boy's room is."

"I only know where the big boys' room is!" he chuckled, then after placing his beer down, beckoned Sam, "Come on, I'll show you."

As they made their way between the crowd at the bar and couples milling around the dance floor, Sam joked. "Honest, I'm alright. You could have just pointed."

"No, it's okay. I need to go myself."

Then, as they dodged past another couple, Sam heard him continue.

"Anyway, I needed to be sure you'd return."

Sam grabbed his arm, pulling him back. "What do you mean by that?" His blood simmered. Had Summer told her friends that he'd run from his troubles?

Mike came up close to him, glancing about them. "Sam, this is Belfast. Water runs far deeper here than most places. The troubles, whilst a long time ago, remain simmering beneath the surface. Surely you must remember those dark days. And here you are, and with an English accent that makes you stand out like a sore thumb."

Sam looked gobsmacked at him. The reality dawned on him how little he knew. Despite the accents sounding similar to those in the South, their history was completely different, and all those old news items of his childhood flashed across his mind.

Mike leaned closer. "It's nothing to worry about, only a precaution. The university is neutral ground and one of the few places students like Summer, Tina and myself can flourish without the prejudices against us that are present elsewhere in the city and the province. There are a few who want the troubles to return, though. I'm sure Summer would prefer you to return in one piece."

Mike smiled at Sam as he shrugged, resigned to the situation, being out of his control. He turned and continued to lead Sam through the couples drifting into the bar. Their visit was uneventful and soon they were both making their way back, but whilst still lost in the crowd, Mike stopped.

"Sam, Summer is a very close friend of mine and I've never seen her so relaxed in a long time, wearing a skirt too, no less."

He looked as if he wanted to say more, but finished with, "Please, don't hurt her..."

He turned and moved on before Sam could reply.

When they reached Mark and Sandy, still at Sam's seat by the end of the bar, Summer was with them, holding a soft drink bottle, sipping through a straw.

"Hey, you're on the wrong side!" Sam asked, chuckling, glancing at the counter. Then he leaned in to whisper in her ear. "Or have you been sacked?"

He jumped back out of reach of her playful shoulder punch, laughing cheerfully at her.

"No, two additional staff turned up. The boss had expected a bigger crowd, so said I could have a break, but if they get busier, he'll let me know."

"You're joking? It looks pretty busy."

She laughed, shaking her head. "You should have been her for New Year's Eve. They were turning people away."

He picked up his beer to drink as the band up on the stage struck up their first song. Whilst they promised a cornucopia of Valentine's Day tunes, they started with 'Best Of You' by the 'Foo Fighters'. It didn't take long before both Sam and Summer were singing along together.

When it morphed into 'Use Somebody' by 'kings of Leon', the pair were half dancing as they sang, both watching each other closely. Sam couldn't believe that his earlier faux pas was all down to him. The way she looked at him, shimmied her hips and shook her shoulders, that caused her small but perfect breasts to shake. Surely no man hating honest lesbian would tease the man she was sharing her flat with like this?

Throughout, the side of him that wanted to wrap her in his arms and snog her was winning the argument over the sensible half of him that told him she only wanted his friendship. They sang the last lines of the song, laughing happily at each other to find Summer's friend's grinning at them both.

Sam took a large gulp of his pint to satisfy his dry throat. This time he set it down, just in case he needed both hands in the near future. The band paused to tune their guitars, as he watched Summer seductively suck on the straw and found a stirring down in his trousers with the obvious innuendo that any red-blooded male would consider.

The first riff of the next song echoed around the room and Summer placed her bottle down on the counter. In unison, the pair shouted, "Reef!"

Summer squealed as she grasped Sam and pulled him through the crowd to the not so crowded centre of the dance floor. They both face each other, eyes locked together once more, as they joined the singer:

PLACE YOUR HANDS ON MY HOPE.

They both waved their hands in the air.

RUN YOUR FINGERS THROUGH MY SOUL.

Summer ran her wiggling hands over Sam's chest, and he desperately wanted to run his over her body, but he hovered over hers in stead, avoiding her chest, as his trouser snake tried desperately to escape its confines. They kept singing with restrained hand gestures, but inside Sam was a coiled sexual spring, unsure if the sexual tension between them was real or just his imagination running riot.

When the chorus came, Sam and his hands sprang in the air, with the surrounding couples, as he tried to release his pent up energy.

I PUT YOUR HANDS ON, PUT YOUR HANDS ON, YEAH.

Summer, enthusiastically, joined in, but couldn't match Sam's vigour. They pressed their open palms against each other as they continued to sing, whilst dancing. Sam wanted to wrap his fingers through hers and hold her tight, but he kept his hands flat against hers, enjoying the heat of her palm.

She laughed joyously at the end of the song, throwing her head back, causing her hair to flick behind her. Sam imagined her in a hair shampoo commercial. All she needed was the tropical waterfall above spilling droplets of mountain spring water onto her.

They stayed on the dance floor for the next four songs until the band quietened down and the DJ heralded their first break. Summer and Sam turned with the crowd to return to the end of the bar, as the DJ made an announcement:

"Nominations for our Valentine's Day Cupid's Couple competition, run by the student's union committee, are closed. It is now up to vote on your favourite couples and we'll announce the top three at the second break. They will then go head to head at the third to answer romantic questions about historic lovers, for the winning couple to be announced at midnight."

Summer rolled her eyes, telling Sam, "It's bad enough that I hate Valentines, but now they dress it up with this corny competition. They've never done this before. Come on."

Sam laughed but she ignored him when he asked "Why, what's wrong with Valentine?" He followed her as the DJ read names out. "Betty Carmichael and Peter Phillips... Sarah McDonald and Michael O'Leary... Siobhan Mitchell and Oliver McManus..."

The list droned on behind them as they reached for their drinks at the bar to quench their thirst. Several others had joined summer's three friends, and they all grinned at the couple. Sam could see that Mike and Sandy beamed joyful smiles, but the others he couldn't quite read, whether they were knowing grins or just drunken reactions.

Summer's straw sucked noisily at the bottom of the now empty bottle as the DJ droned on. Sam downed the bulk of his pint, trying to calm his desires under the watchful eyes of her friends.

After a brief pause, the DJ's voice returned. "We have a late entry. It comprises one of our very own staff members. Summer, who works hard supplying all of you good folk with drink and her new boyfriend, Sam. So there you have all the names..."

Despite the DJ being backed by many watts of power, Summer's voice drowned him out. "What the fuck? Who did this?" She pointed accusingly at her friends, her eyes looking venomous around the onlookers. Her finger spun like a compass needle to land on Sam as her north. "Did you do this?" She spat. "Well, FUCK the lot of you, I'm off to do my job."

She slammed her bottle down, pushed past Sam to force her way through the crowd to the other end and to return to work behind the bar, much to everyone's surprise. Sam glanced at her friends. Several looked guilty, a few laughed, but Mike berated them.

Sam turned to his near empty glass to find Tina leaning across the counter to him. "It wasn't me." She glared over Sam's shoulder, so he couldn't see the culprit.

"But you knew what the result would be? Why?" Sam demanded as he sank the last of his drink.

"She's been so happy since you arrived. Last night, when we walked to work, you were all she could talk about. As well as today, all her calls and texts were about you. Then tonight... She never wears skirts, so we all assumed... Sam, it wasn't me. I wouldn't hurt her, as she's my closest friend."

He slammed his empty glass on the counter. "It's too late now. The milk is spilt. Could I have another one, please?"

Tina's guilt ran across her face and she placed a clean glass beneath the pump and avoided his glare as she poured the creamy fluid. She guiltily returned to Sam as she let the beer settle in the glass.

Before she could make amends with Sam, he asked, "Why is Summer so against celebrating Valentine's Day?"

Tina's face dropped and mumbled quietly, "It's partially my fault... We got together when I first arrived, nearly two years ago but I broke up, just before Valentines after she had made plans. I hate to say, it really hurt her. Then when she finally got herself back together and met Helen, it all looked as if everything was coming up roses. Then this time last year, Helen cried off from her planned date. I took her out, to cheer her up and we saw Helen with a date, in a restaurant eating with a friend of ours. Her world came crashing down around her..."

Before Sam could say anything a hand landed on Sam's shoulder, causing him to turn to see Mike alone with Summer's other friends nowhere to be seen.

"I warned them. They didn't listen."

"That's bloody obvious." Sam scowled, whilst watching Summer serve the masses at the middle of the bar, trying to act normal, but he knew that she'd feel insulted to her core. The announcement had spilled her privacy across the room for all to see. But was it one she didn't desire or refused to acknowledge?

Mike stayed and waited for Tina to place Sam's Guinness on the counter. Sam paid and Tina scurried off, not wanting to say anything further. He pondered on where his and Summer's relationship now stood. He maintained his watchful eye on her as Mike joined him at the bar. Mike struck up polite conversation that encouraged Sam to answer as the band restarted.

Mike and Sam continued to talk. He realised that him staying would just rub salt in Summer's wound, which would treble if they announced them once more and he didn't really feel like anymore beer now the edge had gone off the evening.

He apologised to Mike for being curt with him, thanked him for his conversation, and explained. He caught Tina's eye and repeated the same, asking if she could ask Summer for a word. Tina swapped positions with her for her to speak with Sam.

"You okay?"

"No, I'm fuming and trying not to think about it."

"I'm sorry, but I'm not helping you by hanging around. I've drunk more than enough and got my spare key, so I'll make my way home."

"No, you were enjoying it. Don't go."

"Only because it was with you. I've had a fabulous time, but they've spoiled it and you need your space. I'll be okay, and we can start afresh in the morning."

Summer's anger drained from her, and a mix of emotions crossed her face. She nodded. "Thanks for understanding. So long as you're alright?"

Sam wished the counter wasn't between them and they could hug, even as friends, as she looked as if she needed one. He then tried to remove any guilt from her about his leaving, "Yeah, I'm okay, I've probably drunk too much anyway and staying would only encourage me to drink more."

He unhooked his coat and waved it as a goodbye to her. He shook Mike's hand and thanked him whilst confirming he'd be in touch when he needed a rucksack. As he dodged through the crowd, he caught Tina's eye and gave her a wave. She cheerfully smiled back and then glanced at Summer, who was now busy serving.

Sam continued on and had to pull his coat on before leaving the warmth of the building to step out into a drizzling rain storm. Whilst not heavy, the drizzle seeped under his collar and onto his hands despite being thrust deeply into pockets.

Thankfully, he could stride out, confident of the route home and was soon stabbing a key into the door to get in the dry. He shook his coat outside in the stairwell before entering Summer's flat and hanging it up. He quickly stripped off, turned the lounge back into his bedroom and tucked himself into the sleeping bag, and tried to sleep.

After several fruitless attempts, he gave up trying to return to sleep to find he'd barely slept at all. He skimmed the channels once more and after various late night news programs mixed with chat shows, he found a film he liked. He trotted to the kitchen.

After putting the kettle on he checked in the hallway, but there were still gaps where her coat and shoes should be, worrying him that long after midnight, Summer still hadn't returned. He ignored any temptation to check her bedroom. Back in his sleeping bag with a mug of tea, he settled down.

Unwittingly he found throughout the film, he watched the clock ticking away, hoping she would return soon. He argued that maybe the two women had gone on to a club with friends or were enjoying a coffee at Tina's. With the windows open and able to hear the street noise outside, including any passing footsteps, willing them to enter the building.

Sam must have drifted off as the front door slamming shut aroused him from his slumbers. He checked the time and saw it was barely two in the morning. He got up and peered down the hall to see a very flustered Summer stomping towards him.

As he appeared in his boxers, she jumped in surprise.

"Ah, sorry. You okay?"

"No. It was bad enough before, but after you left, it all went downhill."

Sam retreated as she passed. She glanced at him, her eyes bloodshot, and she scowled.

"Jeans on, please?" She admonished him.

"Sorry, sorry, I forgot."

He dashed back to the sofa and slipped on his jeans, ignoring their slightly damp lower legs. "Would you like a tea or coffee?" He called after her.

"No, something stronger."

Sam heard the clatter of bottles and a pop of a cork as he buckled his belt. He padded out on his bare feet to find her in the kitchen, pouring a large glass of red wine.

"You okay? Do you want to talk about it?"

"No." She drank a long gulp of her drink and topped it back up. She returned the cork to the bottle and turned to him.

"That was a shit Valentine's night. After you left, out of the blue, an argument erupted. But not the usual boy fancies girl, girl rejects the boy, but this was two big lads, one assuming the other thought like him. It went from two friends arguing over signals, who said what or meant this, to two powerful men pounding each other."

"Holy shit, come and sit down."

Sam held her spare hand and led her to the lounge, sitting her on her sofa bed. She took several gulps of her drink and rustled her now unkempt hair.

"I feel crap. Security were called, but from then on the entire bar seemed to have taken sides. Then we received word that someone was selling drugs in the toilets. It's one thing for students to buy and bring their own, as security can't search every nook and cranny as people enter, but to sell it openly is seriously is not on."

"Couldn't they just kick them out?"

"This is Belfast. It's not as easy as that. They claimed to be one side, which means if you stop them, you're on the other and the bar becomes targeted. Previously, we've been neutral, off limits to this, but this time they made an issue of it."

She took another huge swig of wine. "It's so fucked up. Whether North versus South, Catholic versus protestant, or one side extorting money from an area that the other wants or in this case dealing drugs that both sides agreed to leave alone. It's all down to money and power."

Sam realised that the media only scratch the surface of the modern face of Northern Ireland.

"It all got into a big stressful standoff. Thankfully, security knew the right people and after various phone calls, they resolved it, but the atmosphere afterwards could be cut with a knife... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to take it out on you, but I get so angry when things like this happen and make me want to leave Belfast far behind and go somewhere normal, where it doesn't matter who or what we are."

Sam felt an urge to hug her, as she looked as if she was going to break down and cry, but he also wanted to respect her private space, unless invited. The invitation never came as she finished her drink. He had to admit to being glad her pain wasn't a result of their dancing and their nomination by mislead friends, earlier.

"I could do with a shower to freshen up. If you need the loo, go now, as I need to be on my own at the moment."

Sam silently got up and dashed to the toilet. He didn't want to miss the opportunity, as it sounded as if it could be a long shower. When he returned, the bottle in the kitchen was empty and Summer had left the lounge.

He sat on the sofa, yearning to burst into her room and hold her tightly, whilst telling her what he felt for her and how wonderful she was. But didn't want to encroach on her personal space at this fragile time, knowing it would be the fastest way to crash and burn. He sighed with relief as he heard her door open and bare feet pad to the bathroom.

Sam took off his jeans and settled back into bed, listening to the music channels in the vain hope of returning to sleep, hoping the morning would bring a fresh start for them both.

Unfortunately, he could only toss and turn, with the TV and adverts barely drowning out the sound of Summer either singing or admonishing the world in general. Eventually, he heard the bathroom door open and bare feet pad back to her bedroom. Finally, his eyelids drooped, and he settled down to fall asleep.

Suddenly, a short, ear-splitting scream pierced the night air. "Arggghhhh, FOR FUCKS SAKE!" To be followed by the sound of plastic hitting a wall and breaking.

Before he knew it, he'd jumped out of bed and was knocking on Summer's bedroom door. "You okay?" He heard her sobbing from the other side, fearing the worst he knocked again. "Can I come in? Please?"