Strum

Leaning to her, I said, "It's pretty awful, ay."

"It's disgusting!" Her accent and the way she screwed up her face was cute, a faint scent of perfume infiltrating my olfactory system. They were so excited to be going clubbing and I thought perhaps I should go with them rather than go my own way. However, after our drinks we didn't buy seconds and Chvrches' synth-pop playing over the bar's speakers kept telling me Get Out of here, so I stood and pulled on my coat.

Kristyna asked, "Are you going to meet a boy?"

I smiled. "No. I'm meeting a friend."

"A boy friend?" Claudine asked, leaving her glass half-full, not daring to touch it again. Her playful smirks were delightful, bringing a smile to my own lips.

"Don't trust English boys," Luisa said, the tone of her voice betraying her experience in this area. "They will break your heart."

"I'm meeting a girl..."

"Oh là là," Claudine said, offering a cheeky pout, and they giggled.

"It's not what you think." My protests elicited more giggles, and I felt my face burn. Trying to act cool, I laughed too.

They farewelled me, giggling more, and we shared hugs, electricity pulsing from our connections and energy, but as much as I was torn about going with them or going alone, an invisible force drew me into the cold. Heading underground into the comparatively roasting world of the Tube was a reprieve, until I was soon back up an escalator and again into the frigid London evening.

Tanya's pub was cosy and warm. A tiny stage was across the room from the entry door, where two musicians played; a middle-aged women sitting at a keyboard singing George Michael's Careless Whisper, the man strumming along on an acoustic guitar. Ten or so patrons sat at tables to the side, all with beers, all ignoring the musicians. Looking to my right I found the bar, and there was Tanya, pulling a beer for a man in a suit. She looked tired and bored, and when she passed the man his pint, her eyes met mine, and her tired, bored expression changed in an instant, her smile brightening the otherwise dull room.

Her customer stayed put, perhaps thinking he was the target of her smile, and I raised my eyebrows and gave a cheeky grin. Walking across the room I noted one or two pairs of eyes following me, and I stood at the bar, watching Tanya disengage herself from the fella's conversation.

"What'll you have, luv?" Tanya's colleague, a tallish thirty-something lad with a Scottish accent stood behind the taps, waiting for my response.

"She'll have a gin," Tanya said, sidling up to the barman.

Nodding, I said, "G and T with some lime if you have any."

The barman looked at Tanya and shrugged. "You know each other."

"She's my bestie," Tanya said with a grin. "Kimmy, this is Kevin, Kevin, this is Kimmy."

Kevin laughed. "Well it's a pleasure to meet you, Kimmy. Between you and Tan, the average age in this room has dropped a wee bit."

"Pleasure's all mine," I said, my face prickling with heat. Kevin was handsome, with striking blue eyes and slight grin and a bit of a Robbie Williams look about him. He turned and reached for a blue bottle on the shelf behind the bar and began to make my drink.

Tanya raised her eyebrows and spoke a little too loud when she said, "I'll tell him you're checking out his arse."

"Stop it," I whispered, my face burning up.

She laughed. "I didn't think you'd come."

"I was bored. Thought there might be some adventure on this side of town."

Kevin turned and handed me the drink. "There you go, that's normally seven quid but you can have it for a fiver." He kept talking as I handed him the note. As I took a sip he asked, "So you're Australian?"

"Yeah, and you're Scottish?"

Kevin winked and grinned. "I grew up near Perth."

"Like she knows where Perth is, I don't even know," Tanya interjected.

"Sure I do, it's in Western Australia," I said, making it sound like a joke because the West Aussie Perth was the only Perth I knew, and the main one if there were others.

Kevin laughed. "Close, and I even lived in your Perth for eighteen months, but my Perth back in Scotland is much colder and much older."

"I didn't know you lived in Australia," Tanya said. "See, everyone's travelled except me."

"I went for the sun and beaches and stayed for love."

"Yet here you are, pulling pints behind the bar in a nothing London pub."

"Hey, watch your tongue, girly, there's absolutely nothing wrong with pulling pints," he said, but couldn't hide his slight grin from us. But I swear I could detect melancholy in his voice. "But it's true, I'm here and not there, and the love of my life is married with kids now. And his wife doesn't even know he's gayer than a French horn."

"I think I met a gay French horn back at my hostel," I said.

Lifting a tray of dirty glasses, Tanya grinned and said, "Just because he rejected your advances, it doesn't mean he's gay."

"Oh, she wasn't a he, and I didn't rejected her advances because she never made any. But I swear she's checking out every girl in the place."

"If she knows what's good for her, she'll keep a wide birth from you." Tanya gave me a cheeky look and turned to stack the dishwasher behind the bar.

Kevin turned to me and said, "I bet you didn't know your so-called bestie here is quite a bitch sometimes?"

Nodding, I replied, "I am discovering this, and she's a pain in the arse too."

"Oi, you bitch," Tanya said, wiggling her bum at me as she placed more glasses in the dishwasher, "I'll give you pain in the arse."

Leaning on the counter behind him, Kevin smirked and said, "I'd pay to watch that."

"What the fuck, Kev?" Tanya said, standing straight and turning to him.

Taking Tanya's lead, I folded my arms and raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, Kev, what the fuck?"

"I was just saying I could see you two..."

"Don't you say it," Tanya said, threatening to push Kevin, even if she would only push him into the shelves of alcohol filled bottles behind.

Kevin laughed, holding his hands up, looking from Tanya to me and back again, telling us, "You two look kind of scary when you're angry. You're even frightening off Meredith and Marty."

Looking around I could see the two musicians packing up. "I think they were frightening off your customers by the sounds of things."

Kevin kept composure, despite his slight smile. He whispered, "Keep it down for a moment, they're popping over and they are our regular entertainers, so be nice."

The couple approached and stood beside me at the bar, and I caught Tanya's eyes, and she smiled. Her smile made me smile, and I was glad I'd decided to come.

"All right, Kev?" the male musician said to Kevin. "Tell your mate thanks for the lend of the keyboard, won't you."

"Yeah, Martin," Kevin replied, "I'll do so when he pops by, or Tanya can tell him since he's her brother. Quite a musical family, they are."

Tanya nudged Kevin as she looked down, and I couldn't help myself. "It's true. Tanya's a talented muso too, and when she's famous I'm gonna tell everyone I discovered her in a London park on a cold winter's day."

The woman said, "You might want to take her up on playing, because unfortunately we can't make it tomorrow night. Family thing."

"Oh, you will be missed," Kevin said, sounding genuinely sincere, handing over some cash to pay them.

The man and woman smiled and said their goodbyes to Kevin, and Tanya nudged Kevin again and looked at me, frowning. "What is this, pick on Tanya day today?"

I shrugged and said, "I don't know what you mean, it was a compliment."

Kevin watched Tanya for a moment. "You and your brother are quite talented, perhaps I should get you two to play in the absence of Martin and Meredith."

"You wouldn't get me up there in front of our punters for quids," Tanya said. "And you can't replace national treasures like Martin and Meredith with hacks like me and Wes!"

"They're certainly treasures," I said, "They look like museum pieces."

Kevin smiled. "The British Museum wouldn't take them, they're too British to be exhibited there."

"That's not right," I said, making a face. "If there's one thing Brits are known for, it's their music, and those two aren't shining examples."

"They are around these parts," Kevin chuckled. "Lucky for Britain's musical reputation, Martin and Meredith are unknown outside of this establishment."

Tanya caught my eye and I made another face, and said to Kevin, "Lucky for you, you have Tanya to back you up, right?"

"I could take the shift off and play guitar for you," she said with a laugh. "One thousand pounds will do it."

"I'll pay it as a bet or dare to see you get up there," Kevin said, and Tanya made a face, causing me to laugh.

"Somfin' funny going on back here, is there?" A patron stood next to me and placed his empty glass on the bar. "Another one, thanks, luv."

Tanya recoiled at the man but spoke as gently as possible. "Do you think you might have had enough for the night?"

"What's it matter to you?"

"Well, I have to serve responsibly and I can tell you're probably at your limit, aren't you? I think you've had enough."

The man shook his head. "You can't stop me having a drink, you dark bitch."

Tanya stopped, her brow furrowing, and I couldn't help myself. "You can't say that you racist drunk!"

Foul gaseous alcohol emanated from the man when he faced me and said, "I can say whatever the fuck I like, you silly looking pierced blue haired cunt."

"I bet you're fun at parties," I said, my heart bumping up a notch, and I stepped back, wilting at his stench.

Kevin came around the bar, staunching up to the man, and said, "That's enough for you tonight, George."

George pursed his lips, huffed deeply through his nose, scrunched his facial muscles and shook his head. He hissed at Kevin, who towered over him, "Fucking simp."

"Fuck off, George, and don't ever step foot in here again."

I thought George might explode and I even retreated a little, lest I catch the splatter or a fist, the man red with rage and booze, but he did turn, lurching into a table, knocking a chair over, missing one of the few remaining patrons by luck alone, and finally he stumbled to the entrance, icy wind penetrating the room when he held the door open a fraction too long.

"And good riddance, you racist pig," Tanya said, staring at the closing door.

"Holy shit." The words came from me like a sigh, relief spreading fast through my body. "What was his fucking problem?"

"Alcohol," Kevin said, finally relaxing. "Poor bastard lost his wife a year back, but it's no excuse to be a right cunt to everyone."

Tanya nodded. "He also suffers from a general lack of brain cells, which were absent before he started drinking. I do like how you told him he'd be fun at parties though, I bet he's a hoot."

Kevin shook his head. "Only parties he should attend are AA parties. I'm going to check on the bastard."

Tanya and I shrugged as Kevin went to check on the bastard, and a cold draft wafted through the room when he opened the door.

Kevin returned a little while later and told us he was going to call the police, because he worried about George, who was outside the door in the cold. While Kevin was on the phone another cold draft swept through and my first thought was the old drunk was coming back inside, but instead there was a tall, handsome man wearing woollen turtle neck jumper. If clothes make the man, most men would become instant nerds the moment they wore this jumper, but this man appeared to have turned the apparel into the latest must-have fashion item in town. It fit him to a tee.

He strode to the bar, my eyes taking him in, his dark skin, delicate hands, tight trousers, broad smile which he offered both Tanya and Kevin.

"There's an old drunk leaning against the wall out there" the man said with a hint of campness, "And he appears to be muttering his racist thoughts, so I told him he's talking boldly for someone who's pissed his pants."

"I've spoken to the police to see if they can come and chat with him," Kevin said, putting the phone back on its cradle on the wall behind the bar. He turned to me and grinned, saying, "I believe you might say he's going home in the back of a divvy van."

I shrugged, not quite sure what he was on about, but said, "'Spose so."

"Divvy van, it's what you Aussies call a police van..."

"Do we?"

"Ah, forget it," Kevin said, and the man who'd just arrived chuckled at him.

"Wes," Tanya said, "This is Kim. She's from Australia and she's not too bright, but don't hold it against her, she's okay."

"Ah, hello Kim from Australia." He smiled a billion dollar smile and whispered, "I won't hold it against you though, even if you are brighter than my lovely sister wants me to believe."

I laughed and took his hand, face prickling, and realising who Wes was, I blurted, "You're Tanya's brother."

"And I want you to promise not to hold that little fact against me."

We laughed and Tanya rolled her eyes, and Kevin smiled. "The law will be here shortly to catch up with our friend out there. So, Wes, you're early. To what do we owe this pleasure?"

"I came to see my beautiful sister, of course." Wes looked affectionately at Tanya, who poked her tongue at him. "And to pick up my keyboard."

With a chuckle, Kevin said, "Are you sure there's nothing else you came here for?"

There was a twinkle in Wes' eyes when he said, "Hmmmm, let me see...no, can't think of anything else, sorry."

"Oh, in that case, how about you make yourself useful and have a wee drink with Kim here. She could use the company while Tanya finishes her shift."

We traded smiles, mine a tad embarrassed, Wes' seemingly confident, and when he saw my drink he said, "Another gin and tonic for me, please, Kev. Now, Kim, would you do me the pleasure of joining my by the stage? I'll be over in a moment."

"Sure," I said, lost for any other words.

With my drink in hand, I crossed the short distance to the table closest to the tiny stage, sat and watched the room. Six patrons remained, a table with two couples, perhaps in their thirties, and two older men chatting at another table with empty glasses between them. Wes and Kevin were conversing as Kevin handed over the glass, and I saw their fingers caress, both smiling and laughing. Wes turned to Tanya, saying something, and Tanya disappeared out of sight, returning moments later with her battered guitar case, passing it over the bar to her brother. Lifting the case and his drink, he turned and approached me with a smile. I sipped at my drink, watching him, returning his smile.

"Do you like music?" he asked, placing his glass on the table and opening the guitar case, taking the instrument in his hands.

"Of course I do."

"Excellent. So do I." Sitting on the edge of the stage, which was lower than my chair, he plucked at the strings, checking the tuning. "Do you play?"

"A little."

"My Dad taught me and I taught Tans."

"My Mum taught me."

And others taught me too, I thought, my secret powers held at bay for now.

"Great," he said, strumming the strings. Reaching over, he took his drink, gulped a fair amount before placing it on the stage to his right. "Are you warm enough?"

"Yes, thanks, it's nice and cosy in here."

Wes smiled and I was lost in his eyes as he strummed the guitar, a few chords, G and C and G and C, and oh my gosh, he sang with a deeper version of Tanya's angelic singing voice, serenading me with Alicia Key's classic, Girl on Fire.

Goose bumps erupted across my skin, my smile uncontrollable, my heart flipping and dipping, and Wes sang with a smile, leaning a little over his guitar towards me. Smiling and without thinking too much about it I stood and walked over to the keyboard behind him, flicking it on, fingering a few keys, finding the right tempo to match Wes, then played along. He sang, not turning to join me, but still sitting on the edge of the stage, singing to the room now. The two couples at their table even stopped conversing and began watching us, Wes' fingers working the guitar, my fingers working the keys, his voice resonating through the room when he sang, "This girl is on fire!"

I didn't dare share my voice, because it was nothing compared to Wes'.

The two men who'd been chatting were halfway to the door when they stopped and turned, watching us, and Tanya was returning to the bar with empty beer glasses from their table, and she stopped too, while Kevin staring, and I swear all their mouths were open. At least this was how it appeared.

We played on, Wes standing and hitting some higher notes, his singing absolutely on fire, my keys matching his strings. His strumming stopped and he began tapping the guitar body in a beat, and I kept the music up, and now he turned and smiled, still taping the guitar, rocking a little, our eyes meeting, my fingers working their magic.

Increasing the tempo of his tapping, Wes soon began plucking the lower strings like it were a bass, and I played along, not knowing where he was going. He was grinning, teasing almost by playing the low chords over and over, increasing them to try and lose me. The song was familiar, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it, so-to-speak, but my fingers did their best, and a moment later Wes aggressively strummed down all the strings, and sang, "Are you going to be my girl?"

Of course! And he started singing and playing, and I sang and played too, the song a classic by Australian band, Jet. This was fun, the most fun I'd experienced in London so far, and to be honest, I was under Wes' spell.

We played and sang and I have no idea what our small audience was doing until I felt a chill swirling over my face and neck, and a Constable crossed the room to speak with Kevin at the bar. We both stopped and Wes looked towards Kevin, who put his hand up as if to say everything was under control.

The two couples at the table stood and applauded and one of the women with lovely red curls approached and told us, "That was beautiful, you two were miles ahead of the other musicians who were here earlier."

"Thank you," Wes said, smiling, and the way the woman smiled back I knew she was under his spell. Placing the guitar next to the stage, he turned, saying to me, "Excuse me for a moment."

The woman lingered for a second and I think she read the situation wrong, but Wes passed her and went straight to Kevin and the constable. A discussion ensued, while the woman's friends encouraged her to leave with them, and soon Wes, Kevin and the Constable crossed the room and out the door.

"What happened?" I asked Tanya, who approached me.

"The old geezer was apparently sitting against the wall out there. Wes' is a med intern, so he's gone to help, I suppose."

"Should we help them?"

"Nah, between the police and Wes and Kevin they'll be fine. Unfortunately the bastard is breathing."

"Hmmm, I wouldn't want to wish anything bad on anyone, but..."

"The prick will be fine, so forget about him. But holy shit, you didn't tell me you played piano! What the fuck?"

"I don't give all my secrets away the moment I meet someone. And anyhow, I don't exactly have a piano I can whip out of my pocket anytime I want to show off."

"And you were showing off." She was grinning though, telling me all I needed to know, how very impressed she was.

"Only a little."

"So modest. I've not seen someone play like you since...I haven't...seen anyone play like you, except maybe Wes!"

"This girl is on fire...," I sang, playing along.

"Don't push your luck."

"But are you going to be my girl."

"You're funny," Tanya said, attempting not to smile by shaking her head. Bending down, she picked her guitar up and strummed a few chords. "I'm a bit intimidated by you now."

"How so?"