Greg looked her up and down and smirked but didn’t say anything. He was wearing a T-shirt with an image of some kind of rabid wolf and the words ‘Faith No More’ emblazoned over the top. She’d heard of the band but wasn’t a fan. He had an interesting array of T shirts, she mused. She stepped aside and gestured for him to come in.
‘I brought Angus, is that okay? You said you’d like to meet him.’ Mallory nodded as Ruby came up to greet the new canine visitor. The two dogs sniffed each other inquisitively, their noses stuck up each-other’s rear end. Greg pointed at the two dogs. ‘I hope you don’t expect me to greetyoulike that.’
Mallory burst out laughing. ‘No, a simple hello will suffice.’ She bent to say hello to Angus who slobbered all over her face.
Greg laughed. ‘I’ll not do that either, I promise.’
Mallory wiped her face on the back of her sleeve. ‘Thank goodness!’ she retorted.
Greg headed straight through to the kitchen. ‘Sit yoursel’ down, I’ll make us a coffee.’ Mallory couldn’t be bothered to argue, so she sat. ‘I got that new tap sorted. I just need to fit it and then you’re away,’ he called over the increasing noise of the kettle.
‘Great.’ She yawned and stretched. She felt like she had run a marathon.
Greg came through to the lounge with two steaming mugs. ‘So, I spoke to Stella last night.’ He grinned and she guessed this meant she had a new job. ‘She says you’re very welcome to come and give it a go. See what you think. What do you reckon, eh?’
She pursed her lips. ‘Oh… great, yes, thanks.’
Greg waved an arm at her. ‘No, no, calm down with your mad enthusiasm you’ll do yourself an injury.’
Feeling a stab of guilt, Mallory shook her head. ‘Sorry. I just… I’ve had second thoughts… I’m not sure I’m ready… it’s only been a few weeks, Greg.’
‘Hey, no one knows better than I do about this shit. And I say, grab the bull by the horns and get out and meet people.’
She knew he was right. Life would go on; she didn’t know how, but go on it must.
‘Anyways, I said you’d be there tonight at about six so I can show you the ropes, eh?’
‘Okay.’ She cringed. ‘I’ll be there.’
They finished their coffee, making small talk about the weather, things on the news and the fact that her friends were going to come up for a visit in June for her birthday. Greg latched onto the last bit with enthusiasm.
‘So, am I right in thinking you’ll be the big three-oh, eh?’ He grinned.
‘Don’t remind me. I feel old.’ She rubbed her face and her shoulders hunched.
‘Ah, rubbish. You’re a wee bairn.’ He shrugged off her comment. ‘Wait til you’remyage then you’ll feel old.’
‘What age is that then?’ She had wondered this since she’d met him. She reckoned he was one of the people who hid their age well… but justhowwell?
‘Guess,’ he challenged her with a glint in his eye.
‘I may offend you,’ she warned.
‘Na. I don’t offend that easily. Age is just a number.’
‘Okay… you asked for it…’ She pretended to ponder for a moment. ‘…erm… fifty-five?’ she teased.
A look of horror spread across his face and he sat open-mouthed.
She punched him playfully on the arm. ‘Ahhh you said you wouldn’t get offended! Age is just a number remember!’
‘You cheeky wee mare.’ He laughed. ‘Go on, seriously, how old would you say I am?’
‘Seriously? About thirty-four… maybe thirty-five?’ It was genuinely what she thought.
His chest puffed out. ‘Na. I’m thirty-eight next birthday.’ He seemed proud of the fact. ‘I just look bloody good for my age.’ He laughed again.
So that explains why he talked about me as his ‘little sister’ the other night and why he’s so old-school when it comes to music.
