Bobby McGee

Chapter Twenty-one

"Come on Derek, be a sport," interrupted Paul. "It would be three on three and avoid complications."

Peter, acutely aware that the girls would feel embarrassed if this discussion was prolonged for any length of time, also urged Derek to join them.

"Look Derek, Jenny could be a gamble. These girls look pretty nice to me, and they really want to meet you."

That settled it. Derek nodded, downed in one swig the remnants of his pint, and followed Peter and Paul through the crowded room to the table.

Once the customary greetings had been exchanged, Peter pointed out the lack of seating, and suggested they go outside to sit at one of the picnic tables situated in the forecourt of the Inn. The early autumn weather had been remarkably mild, and he argued it would be a relief to escape from the suffocating, smoke filled atmosphere of the lounge. The girls agreed.

"Go and find a nice spot outside, and I'll buy the first round. What'll it be girls?"

"Lager and lime for me please," said Liz.

"Make mine the usual please, Peter."

It was obvious that Gillian expected Peter to remember her preference in drinks from their earlier meetings at the Inn. He had forgotten.

"And what about you, Val?"

"Nothing really. I haven't finished my first drink yet."

"You're sure now?"

"Sure."

Peter elbowed his way through the crowd surrounding the bar, and eventually gained the attention of one of the barmaids. "Could I have three pints of best bitter please, and a lager and lime?" Whilst the pints were being drawn Peter decided on the direct approach. "You don't happen to know Gillian Dean and her friend Val do you?"

"Sure I do. We were in the same class at school. Would you like to meet them?"

"Oh no. It's nothing like that. I just need to know what they like to drink."

"Well, Gillian comes in here pretty regularly and I know she's fond of a G and T. This is the first time I've ever seen Val in the bar though. I'd guess she's probably teetotal - maybe an orange juice for her."

"Okay. So add a gin and tonic, double on the gin...and a vodka and orange, to my order."

The barmaid smiled, "I know what you're up to, McGee."

"Oh! So you're McGee."

It was Bill Tillman, the proprietor of the Inn, who had interrupted. "The lady at the end of the bar would like to talk to you."

"Which lady?"

Mr. Tillman surprised Peter by promptly turning, pointing and exclaiming in an overly loud voice.

"That one."

Peter's gaze was directed towards a striking blonde, sitting on the short side of the bar next to the staff entrance. She smiled in acknowledgement.

"I'll be back for my order in a moment. Hold it for me please."

As Peter approached her through the increasingly rowdy bunch of cadets, he couldn't help but make his usual assessment. She was wearing a fitted navy blue suit over a sky blue ruffled blouse, no jewellery and little make up. As he came closer, he realized that she was probably a little older than most of the girls in the bar. There was a hint of crow's feet at the corner of her eyes and a small crescent moon shaped scar running from just below her right eye to her nose. She was tall, with beautiful muscled legs showing to advantage on the high bar stool.

"So, you must be Peter McGee," she said, rising from her stool and proffering her right hand. "My name is Yelena. Yelena Mays." She spoke with a lilt that betrayed her Tyneside upbringing.

Peter could feel his blush as they shook hands."How, how do you know me?" he stammered. What had happened to his usual swagger?

Yelena seemed quite amused by his obvious discomfort, and gently put him at ease.

"I don't know you, but I have some very good friends who know your father. He's the Swarthmoor village policeman now I hear."

"That's right. He just moved there."

"Have you ever visited him?"

Peter shook his head.

"I thought not. Look, I have a proposition that might interest you. Have you some time to spare?"

"Well actually I'm a bit tied up at the moment."

"Oh, I see. How about later?"

"I'd really like to, but we have a curfew."

"I understand. Maybe some other time. I'm staying here at the Inn. Why don't you join me for lunch tomorrow?"

"That would be great. I could meet you here about twelve thirty. Is that okay?"

"Fine. Now off with you. Don't let me keep you from your girl friend."

"I don't have a girl friend."

"You surprise me."

Peter was well aware of Yelena's gaze as he returned to the bar for his order. He glanced back. She smiled, silently mouthed the word 'tomorrow', and turned towards the stairs leading to the guest rooms.

Peter was stricken.