Her Eyes of Emerald and Fire

Chapter 2 - Asher

Mal looks at Ash and he smiles broadly,

“I think I might like her, a lot.” Ash laughs and nods back,

“Same here, let’s head in for a drink and see what we can learn about our mystery bouncer.” Mal groans,

“Oh, don’t go giving me ideas, I’m already struggling to control myself here.” Ash laughs again, clapping his brother on the back before making his way into the pub. The inside of the pub is a quintessential rural English pub, dark beams span the relatively low ceiling, they don’t need to stoop here, but there isn’t a huge amount of clearance above their heads either. There are various horse brasses hung up by the fireplace, where the fire is going gently.

It might not be that cold outside, but it is November and it takes the chill out of the room. The floor is wide oak planks that are remarkably flat considering the age of the place. There are a few scattered rugs that are a mix of patterns and designs, the chairs and tables are a mix of different vintages and styles, and there are booths along the left wall, and a small stage round the corner of the L-shaped bar.

Behind the bar is a large mirrored wall with bottles on shelves and optics hanging up in one large section with a counter underneath it with a selection of cocktail making equipment arranged neatly. Ash raises an eyebrow at this, most country pubs wouldn’t be making that many cocktails, but he shakes himself internally. It doesn’t matter, he takes another glance around the room, hoping to see the redhead, but no luck.

The walls are painted white, and lined with pictures, newspaper clippings and some artwork that he supposed could be some local painter, it was good work, but naïve. The walls are all but obscured with the amount of picture frames and stuff on the walls. He also noticed two ‘yard of ale’ glasses hanging on the wall. They look clean, like they’ve been used recently and cleaned afterwards.

Behind the bar is a tiny old lady, maybe four-four, and wiry, her cerulean eyes staring at him curiously. Her long white hair is in a plait down her back, a short nose, and thin lips completed the face, along with a myriad of wrinkles that told of her age. They walk over and she smiles at them,

“What can I get you two, darlin’s?” Her accent is broad and Scottish, he smiles warmly and looks at the back of the bar. He tilts his head, wishing they’d have the rare stuff he and his brother imported from the Dominican Republic, Mamajuana. But he hums and nods,

“Two whiskies on the rocks please.” She gives him an odd look but nods to go make the drinks. A few moments later and she returns with the glasses, and places them down on the bar. “Thanks.” He pulls out the money to pay, and she hands him the change.

“You’re welcome. Sit wherever you like, just not over there, that table is reserved for the man of the night.” She indicated a decorated table, with banners proclaiming ‘Happy Retirement Albert!’ and balloons and streamers. He nods and heads to the booth where Mal has already sat down and pulled out his phone.

“What are you looking for?” he asks, sliding the drink to his brother on one of the cardboard coasters on the table.

“I’m checking the review of the pub, and seeing if they have a website with employees listed.” Ash chuckles softly and takes a sip of his liquor. It’s incredible, maybe the best whisky he’s ever had. He nudges his brother and indicates the drink and takes another slower sip, savouring the taste as it warms his throat. Once Mal takes his own sip, Ash watches as he lets his eyes slide closed as he holds it in his mouth for a moment. He grins,

“I know right! How is this the best I’ve ever had, and nowhere near Scotland? I know she’s Scottish but still…” Mal frowns,

“The redhead wasn’t Scottish…” Ash chuckles,

“I know, Mal. I was referring to the older lady behind the bar.” Mal tilts his head at that, Ash grins, and Mal looks over to the bar, noticing the lady staring at them and lifts his glass to her, smiling. She grins back and continues serving the other people who have started to wander in. Including a small group that seems to include Albert. The old man and his wife, that’s a guess, are gently shepherded to the correct table and drinks and snacks are brought over.

Lots of people who had already been sitting in the pub went over and dropped off either a card or a gift before returning to their own tables. Ash stretches his hearing, seeing if he can hear their mystery woman. He can hear humming, and the gentle clinking of metal somewhere below them, like someone building something or maybe fixing something? It would make sense of the boiler suit she’d been in. He hears her muttering something then a louder clang of some tool or other being put down on a hard surface.

“I think she’s in the basement, I can hear someone down there working on something metal maybe with tools, I’m not certain though.” Mal nods and closes his eyes to listen too. There’s a soft huff, and someone dusting off their hands,

“Right, trial run one.” It’s definitely her, “Okay, so the fire’s lit, I just need to open the valve here, and check the gauge for pressure.” He had no idea what she could be working on, but she seems to know what she’s doing. He hears her tapping something, then “Huh, that’s not right.” He hears metal straining, then an exclamation of “s**t!” Followed by her shouting “FIRE IN THE HOLE!!”.