the list

Caden looked at the number. If he took the call he would not say no. If he didn’t take the call the noise would never end. The song wouldn’t stop, the screen blinking madly. He really didn’t want to. But if he didn’t, Joan would call and he didn’t need to hear, ‘What’s wrong, darling, why’s Steff so cross?’ He took the call.

He was shaving when he heard it, ‘Oh come on! Are you serious?’ Next, three knocks, quick, loud. Caden said, ‘Yeah?’ and Sunny opened the door, waving a piece of paper in her hand. It looked like the list. Well, no wonder.

‘What’s this?’
‘What’s what?’
‘I thought you said you wouldn’t do it again.’

He cut a long swath through the shaving foam, flicked the razor in the water and started again. Three more to go.

‘Caden. You said you wouldn’t do it again.’

Another clear broadway through the white. Fred had shown him first. Matt wasn’t too happy, but Matt had nothing to shave off. It’s not like he pressed a button and started earlier just to spite him. Caden stopped a second. He hated how that still could annoy him, even now.

‘It’s good money,’ he said, after finishing the last stroke.
‘Yeah and they’re complete arseholes.’

Caden unplugged the sink, and watched the soapy water drain out. He remembered, clearly, the first time he forgot to rinse out the sink. Joan saying, really loud, ‘Who did this?’ as if he’d firebombed the house.

‘They talk down to you, Caden,’ Sunny said. ‘Like you’re some kind of… some kind of… I don’t know! Something they can just order and stare at. I hate that.’
‘It’s just an evening, Sunny,’ he said, bent down and rinsed the last of the foam off.
‘That’s a whole day, Caden. A whole day. Catering.’

She said it like it was something way below his dignity. Caden kept down a smile. Sunny had this thing that, if it wasn’t helping bands build a fanbase, or seeing the pub didn’t run dry, it was nothing.

‘You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Mike’ll be there and Becca and Siobhan’ll –’
‘Oh, I’ll do it. I just don’t see why you have to give in all the time – and don’t say it’s good money. I don’t care about the money. We don’t need it anyway.’
‘Yeah and I don’t need the noise.’

Sunny just stood there pouting. Sometimes she was sixteen all over again, Caden wondered if that would ever stop.

‘Look, you know how it’ll be if I say no. I don’t need that right now, so – it’s just an evening. There’ll be a band and an open bar, she said you can have what you want.’
‘Oh, how generous! M’lady deigns to let us drink her precious wines which are ours anyway for fuck’s sake. How can you put up with that?’

Caden smiled. It was nice, seeing her annoyance. It was genuine too.

‘I know it’s a pain, kid, but I don’t have the time for arguments. We’ll set up everything by five and you can leave by nine, so that’s just four hours, five max if it takes longer.’
‘Yeah, but what about you?’
‘What about me?’
‘Caden, that’s a whole evening with those twats, why’re you doing that to yourself?’
‘I’m not doing anything to myself,’ Caden said, flicked a towel off the heating rack and dried down.
‘It’s still –’
‘I’m just delivering some drinks, Sunny. You really don’t have to join up if you don’t want to, but it’s done anyway.’

Sunny just made a face and shook her head, strutting off like he was an idiot to give in again.

He’d have preferred not to do it, but if he said no he wouldn’t just have Steff all up in a miff, it’d be all of them breathing down his neck again. They’d been quiet for some time now, he didn’t need to change that for no reason. It’d be ok, he’d drive over, drop off the drinks and glasses and pick everything up the next day. He’d probably have to stop for a tumbler and palaver about something, anything. It was dull, but bearable. Steff had some chef on for the food, she just wanted the right wines, so it wasn’t a big deal really. It was strange though, how none of them ever got the hang of wines.

Adam had taken him to the South of France back then, Sunny in tow, fourteen and pissed off all the way until she saw the beaches, then they hardly saw her for the three weeks they were down there. It was business really, Adam was visiting some people he knew, a few microbreweries were staging an event, trying to break into new markets and Adam wanted to know what they had. There was that pavilion with smaller distilleries showing their latest single malts and single casks, they ended up buying a crate full of several different bottles. After that there were the wine cellars and the vineyards they went to, Adam speaking his seriously awful French, everybody winced when he started talking, telling Caden, ‘Try it son, try it,’ so he tried what was offered. He got the hang of it after the third cellar, and with Maurice adding the meals, it made sense.

Maurice lived in Nice and was a dictionary on food, wines and several obscure schnapps. They spent a week at his house, Sunny at the pool day and night, Adam and Maurice talking about their days working for Citroën which was how Adam could save up for the pub, he’d had enough of desk jobs and office life. Adam’s former office was one of Citroën’s suppliers, and Maurice was usually the one on the other end of the line. Over the years they started talking about more than car parts, velocity, pressure valves and tires, and finally became friends. They’d been visiting each other for years by the time they went over that summer, and it was nice seeing Adam laugh so much. That was about a year before the heart attack.

Now Caden had a pretty good list of whiskeys and wines, though he only used it for ‘The von Arseholes’ as Sunny called them. Sunny at sixteen was a full-out Goth. It was a phase, but the wrong phase to meet the Corrigans in. Steff was derisive, Joan horrified, and Fred just stared at her, asking, ‘Is something wrong with her? Why’s she so pale?’ Matt cackling out loud. Sunny heard it all and hated them ever since.

Sunny was convinced he was selling out, to Caden it was just business. The Corrigans had acres of friends and acquaintances who needed good drinks for their dinners and parties, they seemed to have one at least once a week. They knew to get the food right, but they were hopeless with liquids. So Caden got that sorted, and from the calls he was getting, he was doing a good job about it. The best part of it was that the more ridiculous the price, the more willing they were to give him the job. Nowadays, one evening catering to Steff and Joan’s friends was enough to stock up O’Connor’s for a month. Matt’s people were no different, and Fred’s could buy out all his whiskeys if Caden didn’t watch out. With all that, Sunny could huff all she wanted, business was business, and they weren’t all bad either. Well. Some were ok. So there was really nothing to worry about.

Caden was just done with his coffee when the front door opened and Marla walked in. Now there was a real problem. He still didn’t know why he agreed to it. She’d looked harmless. Pretty, yeah, but nothing to worry about, at least not like that. Turns out he was as wrong as he could be. She smiled, ‘Hi’ and said, ‘Going down?’ Caden nodded, and left it at that. He knew he didn’t say much to her, but it was a conscious avoidance. It was her breasts. There were a bit too there. And those clothes. They showed off everything. And in general the fact that she was everywhere. The house was tidier since she moved in. He kept on finding things quicker. Sunny didn’t leave all her stuff lying around anymore. And she was always cooking, it wasn’t bad either. And she smelled good, which was something Caden did not want to notice.

It was annoying actually. He didn’t want the changes. He’d start getting used to them, and then what? This was temporary for her, he knew it. Women like her only stayed a few months in a place like upstairs. And he knew Sunny had no clue. He’d have his work cut out for him once Marla moved out again, Sunny grew so attached to people. Moped for three months when Ella stopped coming over, like he purposely fucked up her life. Granted she was seventeen, barely out of school, still undecided. With Adam gone and Ella out of the house… he got that, but still. Caden wished he’d thought about that before he agreed to have Marla move in, but now it was too late.

Sunny loved having her around though, he hadn’t seen her this happy in months. She kept on giving him updates of whatever Marla was doing, ‘Marla’s on the hill right now, but she’ll be back by seven.’ ‘Marla lived in India for five years, crazy isn’t it?’ ‘Marla’s out with her girls, they’re really nice.’ ‘Marla used to work in New York, I wonder why she moved back here.’ ‘Marla’s going shopping, she asked if you needed anything.’ ‘Marla’s really quiet, don’t you think? I thought she’d be the louder sort.’ ‘Did you see Marla’s sari? It’s gorgeous isn’t it?’ It was constant and there was no way to make her stop. Caden didn’t want to know anything about Marla. The less he knew the better. She’d be moving out soon anyway, so why bother, but Sunny didn’t care.

It really was annoying. Coming up to the flat used to be a way to wind down. Now closing up the pub just meant having to face her afterwards. If she was awake that is. Caden was actually relieved when she wasn’t. She was still up there though, and it didn’t help knowing that. She had this really bad habit of running around in her bathrobe in the mornings. It was quick, yeah, she only did it to grab some toast and tea before she ran back up again, but he still had her right there, in front of him, and it was… fucking irritating. She’d looked harmless. Pretty yeah, but nothing to worry about. At least not like that. Pleasant, that was it. He remembered thinking, ‘Yeah, she’s fine.’ Sane, put together, someone who’d mind her own business. And she was sane, she was put together. She really did mind her own business. She still ran around in that tacky bathrobe where you saw everything. Not on Sundays though, thank God. It was weird, sitting with her at the kitchen table, having her flip through a newspaper or some magazines left over from the week, telling him something completely random she found in the pages. Sometimes he was sure she just wanted to start a conversation, but he wasn’t starting that. He didn’t want any habits to grow, any traditions to spread. It’d be hard enough dealing with Sunny once she moved out again, he didn’t have to get used to things as well.