He dinna wait for me response and, as the door shut, I reached behind me for a wet rag, hurriedly wiping down the counters. If the owner found out, I’d be sure to take the blame. I dinna want Mik to get in trouble for me decision to close, but it was Thursday evening and the pub’s only customer was the ancient drunkard who had spent every night here since me first evening tending bar.
Once the counter was wiped clean, I circled the tables gathering glasses to put in the dishwasher. Every time I started the strange machine, I couldna help but smile. ’Twas a miraculous invention and much more pleasant than the vacuum and other cleaning instruments of this time. ’Twas much more quiet, and the swishing of the water was a sound I found soothing.
Giving the room another glance to ensure that everything was clean and ready for those working the next day’s opening shift, I made me way to the telephone hanging on the side wall. Pulling out the number Isla had given me, I dialed the number to call for a taxi. Telephones were a convenience that were quite useful on evenings like this when I had no one to help me make sure the old man found his way home. But other than a few occasions, the ease at which people could contact one another in this time made me uneasy.
It seemed to me that people in the twenty-first century became anxious too quickly after not hearing from someone because they have grown so accustomed to remaining in constant contact. ’Tis much easier to wait for news if you know ’tis going to be a long time before you hear any than it is to constantly be aware that every second could bring change.
Pushing my musings aside, I walked over to the old man who was now slumped over and snoring. I did me best to rouse him from his slumber as I waited for the taxi that would take the man home.
*
“What do you mean she doesn’t work here? I was just told that she did.” Well past twenty-four hours without sleep, Mitsy’s exhaustion started to idle her brain. With each word that she spoke, she grew more frustrated and had to blink back tears to keep herself from throwing a temper tantrum in the middle of the small hotel lobby. Waiting for the response, she glared back at the nervous looking girl behind the front desk.
“I do apologize, miss. I only started last week, and I’ve never heard of anyone who works here with the name Bri. It’s possible that she does, and we’ve never worked the same shift. Give me just a moment and I’ll go and ask a few of the maids.”
“Yes. Please.” Mitsy spotted a lounge chair in the corner and collapsed onto the worn seat. She reached up, placing her fingertips on her eyelids as she pried them open, staring blankly at the carpet in an effort to stay awake. A hand on her shoulder caused her to jump, poking herself in the eye. “Damnit!” She stood, flailing exaggeratedly as she straightened and pulled at the bottom of her shirt before looking up at the person in front of her.
“Sorry, miss. This is Isla. She says that she knows the person ye are looking for, but I was right, she no longer works here, and her name isna Bri.” The front desk clerk stepped back allowing Isla to come into Mitsy’s view.
“Hello. I’m Isla. Is it perhaps Blaire that ye are looking for, miss? Dark hair, blue eyes, terrible maid. I doona know a Bri who has worked here.”
Mitsy swallowed the lump in her throat and pushed her hair behind her ears as she repressed the frustration building once again. “No. I’m not looking for someone named Blaire. I’m looking for a Brielle Montgomery. Everybody calls her Bri. She’s American. She does have dark hair and blue eyes, but I’d be very surprised if she was a terrible maid. That woman is the most anal, organized, nasty-nice person I know. Now I just spoke with an elderly couple who told me that they’d helped secure her a job here. It’s very important that I find her.”
“Hmm. I doona know a Bri, miss. The only person that I can think of is Blaire. She wasna American, but her accent was a little odd, and she never told any of us where she came from or why she was here. Do ye think that she could have been putting it on? Is she running from something?”
Mitsy stepped back and sat down into the chair once again as the woman’s words sunk in. She didn’t think that Bri would go to the effort of changing her name and using an accent, but then again, she never would have thought she’d be traipsing all over Scotland looking for her either. She stood and gathered her things. “I don’t know. Can you tell me where this Blaire is now? My only option is to at least see if she’s Bri.”
“Sure. She’s working at my cousin’s pub. It’s no far from here. I can point ye in the direction. I doona know if she’s working now, but ye can at least go and see.”
After being shown the way by Isla, Mitsy uttered a thank you and took off as quickly as her sleep-deprived body would carry her.
*