‘Anywhere that doesn’t begin with S?’ I laugh because he’s infectious.
‘Salvation?’ he says, crossing his fingers. His pale blue-grey eyes dance with trouble; I think he’ll fit right in behind this bar, if Delta sees fit.
‘Not much call for mojitos round these parts,’ Delta says, testy.
‘You haven’t had a mojito until you’ve had one of mine,’ he says. ‘Where’s your mint?’
‘In a jar in the fridge with all the other condiments.’ She’s putting him through his paces, but I can hear amusement behind her dry tone.
‘I’m Cleo,’ I say.
‘She’s a writer,’ Delta says.
‘Is she now?’ Barney says, looking at me. ‘And what do you write?’
‘Um, magazine articles in London, until this morning. I just jacked in my job.’ His eyes widen, interested. ‘I was supposed to go back home on the boat you came over on, but I’ve decided to stay instead.’
‘To finish her novel,’ Delta adds.
‘Well, that’s a story I need to hear more of,’ Barney says. ‘And who’s this fella?’ He nods towards Delta’s baby.
Her face softens as she looks down. He really is the most angelic child, peaches for cheeks and a shock of his mama’s black hair.
‘He doesn’t have a name yet,’ Delta says. ‘He’s new. Born in Raff’s sitting room through there, three days ago.’
‘And you’re propping the bar up already,’ Barney says. ‘Good on ya, I like your style.’
‘It’s my pub,’ she says, shades of Peggy Mitchell.
Barney contemplates the baby. ‘Quite the quiff he’s got going on there. Call him Elvis?’
Delta breaks into a laugh. ‘How much would Raff love that,’ she says.
‘Almost as much as your mother would hate it,’ I say. Delta’s already told me she’s most likely going to call him Rafferty, it seems only right.
‘Oh,’ I say, digging in my pocket, reluctant. ‘The keys to your lodge.’
‘You’ve been staying there?’
‘For the last couple of months,’ I nod, putting them on the bar. ‘I love it, you’re very lucky.’
He rubs his chin, thinking. ‘Crossed wires? You stayed there with my cousin, right? I heard bits of the story from my sister.’
‘Something like that,’ I say.
‘Do you know Mack well?’ Delta asks. I frown; she knows perfectly well that Barney and Mack are pretty much strangers.
Barney shakes his head, oblivious. ‘Not at all, really.’
‘You’re nothing alike,’ she says. ‘He’s a lot like Han Solo, and you’re more like the wimpy one. Luke Skywalker.’
‘You’re really holding this blond thing against me, aren’t you?’ he says.
She puts the baby on her shoulder. ‘I’m suspicious of newcomers, what can I say?’
‘Ah, but I’m not a newcomer, now, am I?’ he says. ‘Look, I’ll prove my allegiance.’
He drags his T-shirt up the unbroken side of his body to show us a faded tattoo on his chest, a postage stamp with If found, return to Slánú written across it.
Delta looks at it, assessing, and then at him. ‘How are you going to cope over at Otter Lodge on your own with one arm?’ she says.
‘Badly,’ he laughs.
‘You can stay here if you like, seeing as you’re going to be working behind the bar. The flat upstairs is empty.’
I stare at her. ‘I thought I was moving in here?’
The baby grumbles when she shrugs. ‘You were but wouldn’t it be easier for you to stay at the lodge and Barney to stay here?’
I look at Barney, and he looks at me.
‘If it suits you, it suits me,’ he says, easy. ‘I’m more of a middle-of-the-action guy anyway.’
We all take a moment to look around the empty pub.
‘But the flat was part of my payment,’ I say quietly to Delta, a little embarrassed. ‘I can’t afford to rent Otter Lodge.’
Barney speaks before Delta can. ‘Hey, it’s cool,’ he says, pushing the keys back towards me. ‘You stay there, I’ll stay here, same plan. It’ll save me having to get over that infernal hill, and I’ll be able to roll downstairs to work. Win-win.’
Otter Lodge keeps coming back to me like a lucky talisman.
‘Thank you,’ I say.
I catch Delta’s eye, and she raises her eyebrows at me in a ‘well, I sorted that one, didn’t I?’ way. She’s a funny one. On the surface she’s devil-may-care, but in the space of one morning she’s just employed two people and organized their living arrangements, all with a newborn snoozing in her arms.