Riverstones

Chapter 1 – Reflections

Charlie, a bandy-legged sea-farer with a salt-and-pepper beard approached the bar. Elbowing his way past a couple of oldtimers idly chewing their pipes, he said, “Mary, how are you my darlin’?” He grinned, a twinkle in his mischievous blue eyes. Charlie was a scallywag who made angels cry with his singing voice and put the fire under the devil himself with his fiddle. Mary picked up a cloth and idly wiped a glass. “I ain’t complaining, Charlie. No blighter listens to you anyways.” “Ah, Mary, can I help you with your complaints, make you forget them a while?” he asked running his fingers through his scraggy beard. “What you need is a man to keep you so you don’t have to work no more.” He eyed her speculatively, like a business proposition. Mary lifted a shoulder, “A man is the very reason I am working, Charlie.” Undaunted, Charlie kept on. “But you must get lonely, love. Do you not want someone to keep you warm at night?” He reached out to touch her hand. Mary shied away. “You’ve a way with words, Charlie, my man, but I have a fire to keep me warm.” He heaved a hefty sigh. “You break my bleeding heart, woman.” “What I need,” Mary said slowly, deliberately, “is me customers to be spending some money. What are you drinking, Charlie?”
He laughed, but the laughter was light and short- lived. “One day, Mary, I’ll charm you, girl. If I have to get you completely drunk to have me wicked way, so be it.” “Have you done well today then, that you’re feeling so bold?” “Very well indeed,” he replied. “Drink with me, darlin’, to celebrate — Champagne.” “Charlie, a wee drop of champagne is hardly likely to make me want to kick up my heels now. That’s hardly going to cure my complaints, is it?” She put down the cloth and leaned closer. Mary was a persuasive woman; he knew when he was beat. “Ah then, lassie, what will?” “I reckon a case ought to help the situation.” Mary cocked her head in the direction of the wooden case perched high on the shelf behind her.