“So, where are we going?”
“I thought we’d grab a cocktail at Bar Biarritz. Have you been there?” He started the engine and pulled into the road.
“No. Is it in town?”
“Yes, by the seafront. It’s a bit more upmarket than the student bar and I thought we’d be able to talk.” Uh oh.
The rest of the journey was silent, other than for the pounding beat of a rapper I didn’t recognise. What I did know was how offensive some of the lyrics were. Did he think I would be impressed by that? Again, I couldn’t make sense of these different pieces which made up the Garrett jigsaw. Sometimes he was so refined and so thoughtful; at other times, I found him almost repulsive. One thing was certain: I hadn’t appreciated the open simplicity of Jake.
Garrett parked in a street which ran down to the seafront and was almost run over in his desperation to open my door before I got my seatbelt undone.
“You look very sexy tonight,” he said, pulling me straight from the car into his arms. “A little bit naughty, even.”
Another kiss.
Another lukewarm reaction. Garrett took my hand, apparently unaware of my lack of response, and led me down toward the sea.
I could hear the bar before I saw it. It had full-length windows, open onto the seafront despite the autumnal chill, which let the low bass of the music and the chatter of the crowd spill onto the street. I couldn’t believe somewhere would be so busy on a Sunday night. And he thought we were going to be able to talk? Maybe it could work to my advantage.
Garrett opened the door but led us in, the throng of people parting as if they could smell his money and confidence. When we reached the back of the room, a couple stood up and left their sofa empty. With a sinking heart, I sat in its intimate embrace, its large, curved back offering more privacy than I had wanted. Oblivious to my unease, Garrett handed me the cocktail menu moments before the server appeared.
“A Cosmopolitan, please,” I said, avoiding all drinks with innuendo-laden names. “Why don’t you have a drink, as well? I can get a cab back later.”
“Thanks for offering, but that’s not my intention. I’ll just stick to a light beer. And some olives, please,” he added before angling himself away from the server, transaction completed. I wondered what his intention was but didn’t dare to ask, in case I didn’t like the reply.
We sat and made small talk, mainly about his grandparents’ lives. As before, he was more than happy to be the focus of conversation, rarely asking the questions which might have encouraged more from me. When he ordered me a second drink without asking, I knew I had to do something.
“Actually, could we go? Maybe for a walk?” Seeing my suggestion as a request for something more private, he quickly settled the bill and led us out of the bar. Thankful I’d opted for ballet flats, I suggested we go for a walk along the beachfront.
As we made our way past the small cafes and bars built into the arches facing the sea, Garrett kept an arm around my shoulders, forcing me to stay close to him. A group of lads made their noisy approach in our direction, no doubt en route to one of the nearby pubs. As they passed us, there was some inevitable jostling as we all struggled to stay on the narrow boardwalk.
“Sorry, darling,” one of them said as he accidentally knocked into me.
“No problem,” I laughed, part of me admiring his Welsh accent.
“It is a fucking problem,” Garrett said with much more force than was needed. “Show some respect.” Several of the group turned and I noticed a number of them were very well-built. Rugby players, maybe?
“I said I was sorry. There’s no need to get wound up, mate,” the Welsh lad added.
“I’m not your fucking mate. Now say it like you mean it.” Really?
“What?” A couple of his friends edged closer to Garrett, and I grew worried.
“Hold on,” one of them said. “Let’s not fall out. We all just want a good time. He’s sorry. We’re all sorry.” He looked at his friends before glaring at Garrett. “But if you don’t fucking walk away now, you’ll be the one who’s sorry. What’s it gonna be?” His tone made it clear it wasn’t an empty threat.
“Come on, Garrett. Let’s go.” I pulled him in the opposite direction, worried he wasn’t going to back down, despite being outnumbered. I led us into a quiet alcove built into the sea wall. “Calm down, they’re not worth it.” I took both his hands in mine and looked him in the eye. “They were just having a laugh. Don’t let them ruin the evening.”