"Fuck, you don't waste your time, do you?"

Not Amy. Elise. Why did he imagine it might be the mysterious woman occupying his bedroom mirror? Did she even have fingers to dial his number? And how would she charge the device?

"Oh, it's you."

"Yes," she answered angrily. "It's me. So, not your new lover."

"My what?"

"You can't deny it now. You've landed yourself right in it."

"In what? What are you on about?"

"Ameeeee!"

"Amy? What about her? What do you want?"

"Is she your new piece? You've moved on already?"

"What? Fuck's sake, Elise. No, she's not."

Cass couldn't risk telling his ex-girlfriend the truth about Amy. She'd think he was insane, which was potentially the truth, anyway. Besides, she'd still mistrust him anyway, not that it had anything to do with her anymore.

"So, who then?"

"Nobody. She's just one of the agents about the house. It needs a bit of work doing, that's all. Nothing for you to worry about."

Elise laughed derisively. He could imagine her eyes narrowing the way they did when sarcasm and faux offence clouded her features and voice.

"Oh, I'm not worried. She can have you. Sloppy seconds."

Cass sighed and cursed himself for not thinking when answering her call. Just get on with it!

"What do you want?" he said calmly. Let her rant. He didn't need to rise to it.

"Forget it, now. Go play with your new toy."

"My new...? OK, fine. Bye."

He hung up. Elise hadn't made her point, but he wasn't interested in it either way. She'd only prompt a rise in his temper and descent of his mood. Nothing he did needed to concern her anymore. Whatever she wanted also didn't concern him.

His phone rang again. This time, he checked the screen before answering it. Elise, of course. He ignored the call. She rang again and, when he still didn't answer, he heard the notification sound of a text message.

"Do wht wnt. Dnt cer. Only rng 2 c if you kk."

Abbreviations in text plucked at his nerves. Use proper English! Remember vowels? Use them! Elise knew this and, though she usually wrote messages in such a way, she emphasised the method when speaking to him. It'd been the same since the beginning of their relationship, when he happened to mention his dislike. He wasn't criticising. It was a conversation. She thought it was aimed at her and, after the unnecessary argument, she put in extra effort to abbreviate.

Not for the first time, it took Cassidy a couple of tries to decipher her message.

"Do what you want. Don't Care. Only rang to see if you OK."

'KK' for 'OK' was a prime example, much like 'yer' for 'yes'. IT WAS THE SAME NUMBER OF LETTERS!

So, she called to see how he was? Wow. Had she ever done that before? Another message came through.

"Answer next time or I swear I will put your windows through. Do not ignore me."

The vowels and commonly dropped letters were all present and correct. She was clearly sending that message to emphasise her intent. Would she go through with her threat? He doubted it, but wasn't entirely sure. Elise had been known to pour paint stripper on a previous boyfriend's car after she discovered his infidelity. Elise was fully aware that Cassidy wasn't guilty of anything similar. Would that matter?

Possibly. Possibly not.

When his phone rang a moment later, his pause was brief but there. An act of defiance, however small.

"Yes?" He tried to keep the edge out of his voice. Mostly, he succeeded.

"Look. I didn't call you to argue. I just wanted to make sure you were OK."

"I'm fine, why?"

Was he fine? Who knew? Should he tell Elise? Definitely not.

"Just, your last call. You sounded like... scared or something."

Cassidy didn't know how to respond to that. She sounded genuinely concerned. Unexpected. He was still going to keep his concerns to himself.

"No. I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You don't need me to come round or something?"

What was going on? This wasn't, and had never been, Elise. Had she softened in the time they'd been apart? In their time together, she had always been strong willed. Blunt to a point just short of rude or offensive. She'd never had a caring side, and the lack of one had never really bothered him. Elise was Elise, and he'd loved her for that.

"I..." Did he? "No, I'm fine. Really."

"You keep saying 'fine,' Cass. Tell me the truth."

"I keep saying it because that's what I am. I'm fine. Not shit. Not great. Just fine."

"Hey, I was only asking. No need to be like that."

Cassidy couldn't avoid the edge missing from her voice finding its way into his. He didn't try to hide it. He could, though, give her a chance.

"OK," he said. "I'm sorry. It's just been a bit rough, recently."

"I know," she said. "Same for me."

"How have you been?" he asked.

"Like I'm going to tell you? What the fuck's it got to do with you? You're deleted, mate. Done and gone."

Ah, there it was. Elise, of course, was Elise. He should have known. He pulled his phone from his ear and ended the call, but not before he heard his ex-girlfriend laughing. His phone was returned to his pocket and pulled up the zip of his jacket, fastening the press studs to keep it out of easy reach. He didn't want to risk sending a message as cutting as her remarks.

No notice of his route had been taken as he walked. The conversation with Elise had held his attention, so his turns and street crossings had been more random than they might be otherwise. He was nearing a pub, the Oak Tree. It had been a frequent haunt of his father's, so held some fond memories. When Cass was young, he'd go with his dad. He'd be allowed pints of lemonade with ice and be given some coins to choose music on the juke box. Once he was of legal drinking age, he would take his father there. The lemonade turned to lager and he had his own money for music.

After his parents' deaths, he hadn't returned to the pub. It just wouldn't be the same. He was surprised to find himself there now.

He could walk past. Continue on his way. Pretend he was somewhere else entirely. But, perhaps the Oak Tree and Dad's memory were exactly what he needed.

As he went to pull the door to enter, it opened from the inside. A large man with a thick, greying beard and breath that was a delightful mix of alcohol, tobacco and halitosis, walked out. A collision between them was only just avoided. He ignored Cass's apology totally and muttered something that included the word 'prick.'

Nice.

Once through the door, Cassidy was transported back to his childhood. The pub seemed much larger back then. Indoor smoking had been allowed, which gave the air a blue haze that clung to everything, and the ageing décor darkened the ambience even more. To the young boy, it was cool. Exciting. Grown up. To the adult, the place had been given an upgrade, but that was now getting to the point where it could do with being refreshed. He still recognised some parts from his youth, such as the oversized juke box and the piano that stood in the same corner it always had. Cass had never seen the instrument in use and wouldn't have been surprised to discover it never had been.

It was part of the furniture, though, like many of the patrons. The old faithfuls kept establishments such as this in business. They were loyal and as regular as Cassidy's bowel movements.

Once, he'd walked into a pub on the way back from Lincoln. As soon as he was inside, everyone turned to look at him and his partner at the time. Under a sudden spotlight and feeling like intruders, they turned and left. He'd never returned.

The Oak Tree gave the impression there could be a similar response. It was a 'drinker's pub.' One with a food menu that no one ate, because they were there to watch sport on the television and avoid their other halves back home. Cass had prepared himself for a frosty, what are you doing here reception. It didn't come. A couple of people glanced his way, but most didn't. Those that did were uninterested in the newcomer and returned quickly to their drinks.

A dominoes game was being played over by the largest of the few windows in the room. Four gents, two with nicotine stained hands, one with fingerless gloves and another with a woolly Beanie hat pulled tightly over his head but leaving his ears sticking out, sat in silence while they sipped their beer and waited their turn.

Cass walked up to the bar. The bartender was talking to one of the customers and smiled in his direction.

"One sec."

Cass nodded. He wasn't in a rush. The longer he could put off going home, the longer he could put off anything further coming from Amy. He looked at the pumps to see what drinks were on draught and was pleased to see his usual brand on sale. He didn't want to launch straight into bourbon, so a pint of lager was the more civilised way to go.

"Peroni, please," he said when the bartender ended his conversation and came over.

"Is that a pint?"

"Please."

The drink was poured and handed over, with money changing hands. He took a sip.

"What are you doing in here, Fuck Face?"

https://youtu.be/dFRywBkXgdA