Chapter Text
Tom
I don’t know how I let my mates talk me into agreeing to do the stuff we do, especially since it seems to occur time after time. The latest idea was to let my best mate, Rory, borrow my car to impress a girl. A girl he had just met. Normally, I wouldn’t be so concerned, but seeing as how I left my wallet in the center console of the car and I am now deserted in a part of London I hardly visit, I felt my blood pressure rise.
Rory promised he would be back to pick me up in an hour, which was about how much time he estimated it would take for him to impress the girl, have a quick snog and return. That was nearly two hours ago, and I am still waiting in the spot where I was dropped off. I picked up my mobile and called his number for the fifth time. Once again, it went to voicemail.
“Listen, you arse,” I huffed out. “I’m tired of waiting. Obviously she doesn’t want to snog. So come get me.” I looked around the block once again, trying to find my bearings. The weather was shifting from cool to cold, signifying that winter was upon us. “I’ll be at the pub on the corner. You better get here.”
I got up from the tiny bench I sat on and hurried across the one-way street to Harry’s Pub, which read “arry’s Pub” since the “H” in the sign shorted out. I opened the door and walked inside, almost stepping back into time. The walls were paneled in a dark wood, with dark booths lining the walls and dark upholstered chairs surrounding a handful of tables. The bar was a rich color wood covered in laminate with old pictures of the place.
“What’ll it be, mate?” the bartender asked me. I just ordered a Guinness. The bartender walked over to the center of the bar and took a cup from below, filling it with the rich dark liquid. “Ellie, you need a top off?”
“No, I’m fine,” my head followed the trail of the soft feminine voice I heard in response. My eyes widened at what I found: a young woman, probably in her twenties, with dark chestnut brown hair and delicate features. I know it’s rude to stare, but I couldn’t tear my eyes from her.
The bartender interrupted me from my transfixion, setting my beer in front of me. “That’s four quid.”
“I don’t have my wallet on me at the moment,” I tried to explain my awkward situation. “My mate should be here shortly with it.”
“Hey, buddy, I don’t know you,” the man retorted, about to take away the drink when Ellie spoke up.
“Harry, it’s fine,” she laughed, almost like she was amused. “Put it on my tab.”
The man gave me a glare before walking away. I tried to match his stare, but decided it wasn’t worth my time. Instead, I looked over to my rescuer, for sake of a better word. “Thanks, it’s been a rather strange day.”
“No problem. We’ve all been there,” she said, extending her hand to me. “I locked myself out of my apartment today. So I’m waiting for my sister-in-law to get home at 4 so she can let me in. I’m Ellie.”
I reached across the three stools between us and gently took her hand into mine. Her skin was warm and soft, a stark contrast from mine. “I’m Tom.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Tom,” she offered. I took the seat next to her and took a sip from my drink.
“You’re American?” I noted, her soft voice giving way to her slight Southern accent.
“I am. Very perceptive,” she laughed, which sounded like music to my ears. “I’ve been in London for about five years now, so the thick of my accent is gone. But it comes back when I visit home or family comes my way.”
As Ellie spoke, I couldn’t help but get lost in her eyes. They were a pale blue, like the sky on a crystal clear day. I did note her left eye color was a bit darker blue than the right. I’m sure I was making her uncomfortable with my staring, but she didn’t seem to take notice.
“So tell me Ellie, how did you get to London?”
She told me about moving to England with her brother, Scott, five years ago, after he met his wife, a writer living in Texas. After they fell in love, Scott followed his then girlfriend back home to London, with Ellie coming with.
“Why didn’t you want to stay in Texas?” I asked.
She hesitated before answering, making sure to put a smile on her face. Obviously it wasn’t a happy memory. “My parents died almost ten years ago. There really weren’t any happy memories keeping me there.”
“God, I’m so sorry. Truly.” I can’t imagine having gone through something so horrible.
“I grieved for a while, but I had to move on,” she said before taking a final sip of her drink. “I figured wallowing in my sadness wouldn’t change anything. And that’s not what my parents would have wanted. So I went out, bought a new dress and got on with my life.”
I laughed. She was really funny. “That’s a great outlook on life, Ellie.”
She flashed a brilliant smile, as radiant as the sun. “What do you do, Tom?”
I was kind of taken back. I wasn’t the most famous person in the world, but my face was getting out in the entertainment world more. Maybe she was just being polite. “I’m an actor, actually.”
“Really?” she sat up a little bit straighter in her seat. “Anything I may have seen you in?”
“Marvel films — The Avengers, Thor?” Ellie shook her head, saying she didn’t get into superhero-type films. “Okay, War Horse? Midnight in Paris? I did some television mini-series as well, some for BBC.”
She shook her head. “I don’t really watch television. I’m sorry.”
“No, no it’s fine,” I admitted. “It’s actually rather refreshing to talk to someone who isn’t familiar with my work.”
Ellie asked me a little bit more about my career, which was becoming a more frequent conversation piece. I told her a little bit about the films I just completed and what was to come, including my upcoming run of Coriolanus at the Donmar.
“Being on stage would be terrifying,” she said. “You’re so brave.”
“Acting is a rush, but the stage is my first love. It’s a huge part of my life.”
I lost track of time. Ellie and I talked for what felt like hours. I had forgotten about Rory and the reason why I was at the bar. No one or thing seemed important to me. I just wanted to keep talking to Ellie.
“El, it’s past four,” the bartender interrupted our conversation. Shooting me a similar look he gave earlier. “Rachael should be home.”
She gasped and reached for her purse on the barstool next to her and began fishing for something inside. “Tom, it was wonderful to meet you. I’m sorry that I have to be going.”
“Me too,” I answered; taking a breath that I hoped would give me the confidence I needed. “Ellie, would you like to go to dinner tomorrow night?”
“I would love that,” she smiled. “How about at The Green Room, it’s a Italian restaurant near Hyde Park. I work nearby, so we could meet for dinner, say around six?”
“I can’t wait,” I said, probably more excitedly than I should have.
Ellie got down from her stool, using the bar as her handle. The bar tender came over to her, taking her arm into his. “Need any help getting home, El?”
“No, thanks, Harry,” she said. She took out a thin piece of white plastic, folded into fourths. She unfolded each piece and sapped them into place before taking the fully extended cane into her right hand. My eyes widened at the activity.
Oh my god. She’s blind.
“See you tomorrow, Tom.” Ellie said, giving me a wave and walking out the door, which Harry held open for her, moving the cane back and forth in her path.
“Yeah, tomorrow,” I whispered, doubting she even heard me.