‘Emily!’ Ben says in horror.
‘Fucking funny,’ Safa says, laughing at the comment that a month or so ago would have resulted in outright violence.
They stop outside the bar. Five of them gathered by the door, trying to peer through the glass to the darkened, gloomy interior.
‘See anything?’ Emily asks.
‘Nope,’ Ben says. ‘Too dark, and apparently I’m too tense to see anything.’
‘Get over it,’ Safa says. ‘I’ll go in and have a look.’
‘Is that wise?’ Emily asks.
‘Why?’
‘She might be talking to the boy from McDonald’s. You’ll just get angry and hit him.’
‘I wouldn’t,’ Safa says with a scowl.
‘I’ll go,’ Ben says.
‘You can’t go – you’ll embarrass the hell out of her,’ Emily says.
‘Miri then?’ Ben asks.
‘God no!’ Emily says.
‘Well, we can’t all go in and look,’ Ben says.
Thirty-One
Ria sips the beer and stares into his dark eyes. His right arm propped on the bar reaching out so his fingertips can gently stroke the soft skin on her left arm. She giggles and listens, leaning in to pay attention and glancing at the shape of his bicep. She doesn’t mention there is no party and no buddies to meet. It doesn’t matter.
‘I bet you’ll look hot in the uniform,’ she says.
‘Yes, ma’am,’ he says, smiling coyly.
‘I’d love to see that. Have you got it yet?’
‘No, ma’am,’ he says, still smiling coyly. He likes Ria. She’s so different to anyone he has met. Her accent is so nice and soft, yet she told him the merits of the M4 assault rifle in adverse weather conditions, what oil is the best to use and how the magazines sometimes get a bit sticky. He asked how she knew, and she just laughed in a rather beguiling way and made a joke about being from the future, but from the past. He laughed too and drank his beer.
‘Oh, shame,’ she says, dropping her hand to rest on his thigh. ‘Well, you have a McDonald’s uniform – that’s something.’
She knows about proteins and carbs too, and about good fats and bad fats. Girls don’t know that kind of stuff in Derek’s world. Not in the detail Ria does. She seems sad though. Derek glimpses the pain in her eyes between laughing. It makes him want to know why, but Derek is a good kid, so he doesn’t pry. He likes her boobs and curves too. He likes the warmth of the soft skin on her arm and the way she laughs at his crap jokes.
‘Wanna ’nother beer?’
‘Love one. Let me get them.’ Ria pulls out a wad of banknotes from her clutch purse.
‘Hey, y’all put that back,’ Derek says quickly, looking around in alarm.
‘What? Why? It’s fine.’
‘Not round here it ain’t,’ Derek says, his tone serious. ‘Don’t show that here, Ria. These folks will rob you easy.’
‘Sorry,’ she says, peeling off a single note while offering him an apologetic smile.
‘Where you get that from anyway?’ he asks, glancing round again to make sure no one saw the money.
‘Smurfs.’
‘What?’
‘Nothing. My family is wealthy.’
‘Hey, two beers,’ Derek calls out.
‘Sure thing,’ the bartender says. He brings over two uncapped bottles, takes the note and brings back the change.
‘Cheers,’ Ria says, holding her bottle out to Derek and not giving a shit about the bunker or Miri or the portal in the van or the launderette or anything at all other than this nice boy smiling at her.
‘Cheers,’ Derek says. He learnt that from Ria too.
‘Stout.’
Ria freezes, the bottle pressed to her lips.
‘What?’ the bartender asks.
‘Stout.’
‘What’s stout?’ the bartender asks.
Ria closes her eyes.
‘Ale. Stout. Maybe bitter?’
‘Bitter?’ the bartender says.
‘Aye, bitter, beer.’
‘Beer? You wanna beer?’
‘Aye.’
‘I’ll have one too, please, mate.’
‘Ladies?’ the bartender asks.
‘Orange juice.’
Ria winces at each voice. Her eyes closed.
‘Sure thing.’
‘Er, I’ll have a beer too, thanks. In a glass though. Not a bottle.’
‘You drink beer?’
‘What? I like beer.’
‘Okay, fuck that then. Scrap the orange juice. I’ll have a beer too.’
‘So four beers?’
‘Five,’ Miri says from behind Ria, who slowly opens her eyes, purses her lips and stares at Derek.
‘Hey,’ Derek says, ‘I think they’re British too . . .’
Ria turns slowly on the bar stool.
Harry glances down and smiles. Ben nods. Emily waves. Safa glares past her to Derek. Miri looks round the bar.
‘What the fuck?’ Ria asks.
‘Oh, hi,’ Emily says, as though surprised.
‘Seriously?’ Ria hisses. ‘What the fuck?’
‘Problem?’ Safa asks, still glaring at Derek and not liking the way he is looking at Ria.
‘Safa, stop it,’ Ria blurts.
‘Hi, I’m Ben,’ Ben says, leaning across Ria to offer Derek his hand.
‘Oh my god, Ben,’ Ria seethes, having to lean back as they shake.
‘Harry,’ Harry says, taking Ben’s place to tower over Ria in the offering of an enormous hand to Derek.
‘Sir,’ Derek says, staring up at the huge bearded man.
‘They got stout here?’ Harry asks him.
‘What?’ Derek asks.
‘No, Harry, they won’t have stout,’ Ria says. Wishing the ground would open up.
‘I’m Emily.’ She squeezes in next to Harry to offer her hand. ‘You must be Derek.’
‘Oh my god,’ Ria mutters, hardly believing this is happening.
‘Er, hi,’ Derek says, clearly bewildered. ‘Nice to meet you. May I get you a drink? Are you Ria’s family?’
‘Ach, nice manners, that lad,’ Harry booms as Ria winces again.
‘That was polite, wasn’t it?’ Emily says, smiling at Derek then back to Harry.
‘Ria, you okay?’
‘I am fine, Ben.’
‘Cool. We, er, we just wanted to, er . . . get a beer and . . . check you were alright.’
‘I am fine, Ben.’
‘Good,’ Ben says slowly, rocking on his heels.
‘Five beers,’ the bartender says, placing the bottles down as Ria plucks a note from the purse and holds it out without looking round.
‘Hey,’ Derek says, alarmed again at the show of money. ‘Don’t show that here.’
‘We’re more than safe,’ Ria says flatly. ‘Trust me.’
‘Oh, sorry,’ Emily says, ‘could I have a glass?’
‘Sure thing.’
‘Make sure it’s clean,’ Safa says.
‘Er, yeah, clean glass, sure thing,’ the bartender says, rushing off to find one.
‘Harry, don’t eat the nuts – they’re covered in piss,’ Safa says as Harry mouths a huge handful from the bowl on the bar.
‘So,’ Emily says, grinning at Derek. ‘You work in McDonald’s?’
‘How do you know that, ma’am?’
‘Saw you there,’ Miri says from the back.
‘We saw you there,’ Emily says.
Derek nods and peers round to see an older woman staring round the bar slowly. ‘I leave in a week. Enlisting.’
‘Oh no,’ Ria groans, sinking on the stool.
‘Enlisting?’ Harry asks, mouthing more nuts.
‘In the military?’ Emily asks.
‘Really?’ Safa asks, staring at Derek a bit harder.
‘Yes, ma’am. Marines, ma’am.’
‘Marines?’ Miri asks.
‘Yes, ma’am. US Marines.’
‘Good lad!’ Harry booms, clapping him on the shoulder.