Although the girl found it creepy that this man was looking at her, she had a job to do. It wasn't the first time she had caught hooligans' eyes roaming and it was not likely to be the last. All she could do was grit her teeth and pretend they were thinking about goldfish.
"Hi, what can I get you?" She said politely to a man in a soccer shirt, holding a few crisp notes in his hand.
"Foster's please," the man said, smiling at her as she grabbed the glass, humming to the background music.
The rest of the late afternoon continued like this, people coming and going, conversations starting and dying. It was how things worked.
She was nearing the midway point of her shift when the man who had been watching her finally decided to move. It was dark outside and a chill had settled in like thick fog, replacing the stifling heat of the midday sun; two extremes in one day. The weather was almost foreboding, the air feeling thick with moisture, as it did before a huge storm.
His chair scraped along the floor and that was an odd feat considering there was carpet under the wooden legs. This drew her attention and she watched him leave with steps that were full of confidence and austerity. Following the movement of his hand reaching up towards the push sign, she placed her foot, that was absentmindedly kicking shut a cupboard, on the ground.
Seeing a flash of black coloured movement to her left she tried to avert her eyes onto an insignificant detail, but her eyes remained on the man, her eyes captivated on his delicate movements. When the door swung shut, sending a whoosh of turbulent air she turned her head back to the black.
Focusing her eyes on the blurring blob she was surprised to see another man. A man she had not seen before. The man disappeared out of the door before she had a chance to have a proper look, but from a quick glance at just the back of his head she knew that he was different to the scrawny brown haired man. This guy looked bigger, with sharp actions that reminded her of a striking snake, ready to catch its prey. His black hair looked like someone had hacked at it with a pair of sheep shears, and he had on a faded coat that stretched tightly across his back, almost as if he had no money to buy a coat for his own size.
Immediately she was alert, her suspicion raised. Who was that man? She didn't recognise him as one of the regulars.
"Sarah, do you mind if I go for a quick break?" She asked, glancing at the now closed door. Something was happening, she could feel it.
"Yeah, sure thing Kitty," Sarah said walking up behind her and taking the wet cloth from her pink hands.
"No problem, just be back before the place starts filling up with people coming home from work," she said, walking back to the bar and filling a glass with gold liquid, its contents frothing white bubbles on the top.
"Don't worry; I will only be a minute or two."
Kitty did not waste any time loitering about, darting with frenzied feet towards the door, her lightly clothed body hitting a wall of cold air. Gasping she clutched her arms, rubbing them furiously.
"God-damn-it," she muttered, as she thought about her coat hanging on a peg inside the pub, wishing she had taken the extra few minutes to quickly grab it before she came outside. What was she doing out here anyway?
A passing car caught her attention as the engine noisily obstructed her hearing, its bright headlights washing over her body blinding her for a few moments, and then it was gone, cruising down the road only its tail lights twinkling. Shaking her head a little she thought about how crazy she was being right now, she needed to stop over-thinking things. Of course it was silly to be thinking morbid thoughts, she contemplated, watching the car round the bend and disappear out of sight.
She turned back to enter the pub and the warmth that it offered, raising one cold hand up to the door. When she was about to push it open a faint noise caught her attention. Standing still as her eyes trailed over all the dark shadows around her, the trees looming threateningly in the dark, she shook her head, "It's just my imagination," she whispered softly to herself, but then she heard it again, much clearer this time.
Tilting her head to the side a gush of wind picked up all around her like a mini tempest, blowing her hair into her eyes. As she brushed it back her gaze wandered towards the corner wall of the pub where the car park was situated. Through the roar of the wind passing her ears she picked up a harsh voice. It almost sounded like a monotone chanting, quiet and muffled, but the tone was strong.