Page 12 of Mine before Dawn
“Lordy,” Mavis had said, stopping in the doorway, one hand braced against the frame. “I get someone once a month t’do this.”
Asha had straightened quickly, pulling the cloth down her face.
“Alright, love,” Mavis went on, eyes scanning her with a quick, sharp assessment. “What did you say your name was?”
“Asha.”
“And the little one?”
“Tanay.”
The boy had been sitting just outside the door in the corridor, exactly where she had left him, drawing on a piece of packing paper.
Mavis’s stoic expression seemed to ease just a fraction when he gazed at the bent head with long curly hair. The boy was handsome..
“Have you eaten?” she asked.
Asha hesitated. “No.”
“There’s bread downstairs. And eggs. Make yourself some tea.”
She seemed to hesitate, as if wondering if she should say something.
“You might want to remove that nose ring. The boy needs a haircut,” she said gruffly before walking away.
And that had been that.
That night, Asha had removed the nose ring she had worn since she was three and replaced it with a tiny unobtrusive stud. She had cried silent tears while Tanay slept as she had shed yet another part of her. If it meant the difference between fitting in and standing, out, she would do whatever it took for her son’s sake.
***
By the end of that day, she had been on the floor, picking empty glasses.
The pub had filled quickly—noise and laughter waxing and waning. There was the sharp tang of ale and sweat in the air. Tired men with faces dusted black filed in after another long day. Most watched her like she was a novelty item in the grocer’s shop.
She had moved carefully between the tables, tray ready, eyes skimming the tables for more empties.
Mavis and Patrick had been running the place on their own ever since their youngest son moved away to find work in Manchester. Though they didn't say it, it was good to have an extra pair of hands.
The curses and banter filled the air.
“Bloody useless—”
“Watch where you’re—”
She nodded, apologized, cleaned up and kept going.
Patrick had reluctantly allowed Tanay to sit behind the bar, a thunderous frown on his face.
“Tell him to keep well out of the way,” he had growled while his walrus moustache quivered.
But when Asha had gone to check on Tanay, a new colouring book had magically appeared along with a box of crayons. There was a box of chips and ketchup next to him. An empty glass of milk sat next to him.
Asha had anxiously checked on him between rounds, each glance a small reassurance.
As the night progressed, she learned how to anticipate and how to ignore.
Sometimes, as she passed, a hand would brush, as if by accident.
