The Kiss: An Anthology About Love and Other Close Encounters(89)

As George cleared the pile of cans from the table, they ordered more. He began to wonder how long they would be able to keep up such a pace. And the bill was mounting up. The regulars, still at their table, were fascinated by the quartet in the corner. They ordered more drinks, too, determined to sit the newcomers out.

By this time the bar was filling up and George was kept busy. He rushed from bar to tables and back trying to serve everyone as quickly as possible, It was turning out to be one of his better days and he knew his boss would be pleased if the takings were up. He kept an eye on the four in the corner and each time they reordered he scrutinised them, looking for signs they’d had enough. They seemed fine, so he got on with his job, fetching and carrying, wiping and clearing, until eventually he was able to pause for a short break.

The sun had passed over and the shadows of the weeping willows on the riverbank were lengthening before he had a chance to assess them again. He checked the tally and realised they had spent an awful lot of money over the pasts few hours. He hoped they were good for it but when he finished his break and went to clear the table they ordered more and he decided to let them get on with it.

They were slumped across their table in a very relaxed fashion. One of the females was having difficulty speaking and the other kept interrupting, trying to anticipate what the first one wanted to say. The males started to laugh at her and she became angry and turned away, refusing to respond to their placatory words. Then the conversation turned to other matters and she was soon taking part again, the imagined insult forgotten.

The two regulars, who had been drinking longer than anyone, were becoming troublesome. They started arguing with one another then butted into a conversation the people at the next table were having. George was obliged to tell them to pipe down or he would have to ask them to leave. They turned their attention on him and made a few weak jokes at his expense. He ignored it. He was used to being insulted by customers on a regular basis and it was all part of the job. After a short but heated discussion, he agreed they could have a final drink each, so long as they didn’t disturb the other customers.

So welcome earlier in the afternoon, the breeze was growing chilly. Tables began to empty and it wasn’t too long before there were only the four in the corner and the two regulars still there. All six had slowed down and the levels of liquid in glasses remained steady. George totted up the takings for the afternoon and realised that it was the best session he’d ever had. He was well up on his previous best and knew he would be getting a bonus for his efforts. Happiness flowed through him as he anticipated the evening ahead. With a bonus he would be able to stay out longer than he normally did and maybe even treat himself to a woman. He grew warm in anticipation of this rare treat.

In the corner, the female who had been angry earlier looked ready to slide under the table so the other three finished their drinks and waved to George for the bill. He printed it off from the computer and took it over on a small saucer. He was mightily relieved when they paid up without fuss and started to gather themselves together to leave. Eventually, they were all on their feet and, if a little unsteadily, they managed to leave without knocking over any tables or chairs. George took the signed tab back to the bar and got a tray to clear the table.

The regulars stared, glassy-eyed, as he gathered up the remaining cans and glasses. As he headed back to the bar, one of them called him over.

‘They got well-oiled, didn’t they?’ he said.

His companion, pretty well gone by then, nodded in agreement. They then got up from the table with much groaning and stretching of stiff limbs, shoved a card at George to pay for their drinks and eventually shambled off.

George sighed, his mind on the evening ahead as he took a cloth to the table in the corner. He was just about to wipe it down when he noticed a small, wet spot exactly where the drunken female had been sitting. Glancing around to make sure there was no one to see him, he dipped his forefinger into the wetness and rubbed it against his thumb, noticing the oily smoothness. He looked around again before holding his fingers to his face. He kissed them then inhaled deeply, before wiping them on his waiter’s apron in a gesture of disgust.

‘Bloody robots,’ he said, rubbing hard at the oily stain on the seat.





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UK native Elizabeth Jasper spends much of the year in a remote mountain village in Granada Province, Andalucia, Spain with her husband. She has penned several novels, including Bed of Knives, Lying in Wait and the YA Meggie series.

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5085622.Elizabeth_Jasper





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Just One Kiss


Suzie O’Connell


Tears prickled Alicia’s eyes as she stared at the image in the picture frame. In it, a young couple stood at the end of an old ferry dock with a blustery wind whipping at their hair and clothing and the lights of Seattle twinkling dimly in the distance. They stood with bodies locked together, lips curved in anticipation of the kiss to come, and eyes only for each other. The man was tall and fit with sandy blond hair, warm blue eyes, and a sexy dusting of stubble. The woman, shorter by several inches with long, dark chestnut hair and laughing green eyes, was beautiful, but it wasn’t either’s physical attributes that made the photo so gorgeous. It was the love radiating from them both.

How can a love like that fade so quickly? she wondered, hastily wiping away the single tear that slipped down her cheek.