A blond girl in her 20's sat in a pub on the corner of a random street in Dublin. It was a rowdy place, but not unfriendly. She sat in a corner booth in the back, away from the other patrons of the establishment. A pint sat in front of her and another across from her. She stared at a painting on the wall in front of her, oblivious to the world around her.
The waitress that had just returned from placing the beers on the table, leaned over the bar with a curious look on her face. "Oi, Joe." She called. The burly and stoic bartender turned his head to show he was listening while still going about his business. "Who's that bird o'er there in the corner?" She asked nudging her head in the blonde woman's direction. Joe raised one thick eyebrow and glanced over to where she was sitting. Understanding lit his eyes and he nodded his head. "Ol' customer. Used to come around and have a chinwag with an ol' friend o' mine. He was a tool that one, no worse fer company fer it either." He said with a fond smile coming across his face.
"Janey mack! She don't look like she was from 'ere. A real foreigner ya know? Some kinda model, a real fine thing ya know?" She said gazing at the woman with awe and admiration. Joe let out a small chuckle. "Ya' she's a real beaut', huh?" He looked at her again and shook his head with a smile. "The fella she used to come around with was a looker to, I guess. My sis' used ta have a real thing fer him." His face screwed up into a look of disgust. The waitress raised an eyebrow and tore her eyes away from the mystery woman to give him a questioning gaze. "What? Ya didn't like 'im none?" She asked. He turned back to her and shook his head, his face morphing into a fond smile.
"Na, I liked 'im fine. Used to go out and raise hell together when we were lad's. He was local, ya know? Though, 'bout when we got to high school he fell in with some bad blokes." His face scrunched up into old and tired anger. "Ne'er did see the point in it. Said he 'ad 'duties' and 'ad 'people to protect'. Don't know what in the hell milling e'ery night and getin' plastered when ya ain't getin' ya face beat in is 'posed to get ya." He spat this out as he slammed a glass down in front of a customer. The customer fell out of his chair and sat there, bewildered until his friends dragged him back up. Joe glanced at him, mumbled an apology and took a deep breath. His shoulders slumped and he looked defeated.
"That was ages ago. He cleaned up and got 'imself a proper job. A damn good one. Paid like hell. Ne'er would let it slip what he did, though. Used to cod 'bout bein' a secret agent. Said he worked with 007." He let out a laugh at the memory. "Sometimes, I swear he wasn't the full shilling. But he was good bloke. Nice, ya know?" He face fell slowly into a confused and far way look. "Used to stop in e'ery Monday and Friday fer a pint. Then one day he jus' didn't show. Thought he was too busy er somthin'. But then I saw his obituary in the paper." He stopped, his eyes glossed over and far away. He then snapped out of his trance only to look over at the girl in the corner. "The last time he showed up, she was with 'im. Had been with 'im for a few weeks by then. He was 'avin' a grand 'ol time. Singin' and partyin' like a beast. She seemed worried though, on edge. Kinda hung out in a shadow the whole time. Wasn' much like 'er. She always partied wit' the rest of 'em." His gaze grew guarded as he kept speaking. "They left together. I never saw 'im again. They never really said 'ow he went either."
He relaxed once again and sighed deeply. "It don't matter, anyway. Like I said it was ages ago. She been comin' roun' e'ery year round this time fer a drink wit' 'im, e'er since." The waitress who had been listening intently the entire time turned to stare at the blonde woman. She was astounded and really hadn't been expecting that much out of the man. She was curious and wanted to know what kind of person this mysterious woman was. Joe glanced at her and smiled slightly. "Go talk ta 'er." He encouraged. She snapped her head towards him and gave him a bewildered stare. He chuckled. "Go ahead." He nudged his head in the blonde's direction.
The waitress nodded slowly and made her way over to the mysterious woman. She stood in front of her booth and shifted uncomfortably. She cleared her throat and spoke. "Umm, 'scuse me Miss. I was jus' wonderin' if you'd like some company." The girl turned her lazy grey eyes towards the waitress. The poor server couldn't help but flinch at the cloudy sadness in those eyes. The blonde smiled at her and shook her head. "I'm sorry but I'm having a drink with an old friend." She said nodding towards the untouched beer next to her. The waitress blinked owlishly at her. Suddenly she was hit with understanding and fumbled to correct herself. "Oh! Yes, o' course, yes... right.. umm... well can I at least know who ya are?" She asked. The blonde woman seemed to actually look at her for the first time. She smiled kindly at her. "I'm just a ghost passing through." She said wistfully.
The waitress couldn't help but stare at the girl. This conversation was just to weird. Before she could recover and speak to the girl again she had turned back to the painting, muttering softly under her breath. The waitress leaned in closer, trying to discover hat she was saying.
"We two have paidl'd in the burn," Slowly a tune was forming and it was familiar, "frae morning sun till dine" she knew the song now; she'd sang it herself many-a-time; but she didn't understand why the girl was singing it now. "But seas between us broad have roar'd" she paused here and a smiled fondly at the picture hanging on the wall, "sin auld lang syne." She understood now. The meaning behind this song and sitting in this corner. She smiled pityingly and turned to walk away.
The blonde sighed and looked at her watch. She turned back toward the painting and smiled apologetically. "Sorry, but I have to go now. Have to keep running. Until next time, Robert." She grabbed her coat, chugged the last of her beer, and left.
A painting hung on the wall in a pub on the corner of a random street in Dublin. It was a rowdy place, but not unfriendly. The picture was painted brightly and showed a group of three friends drinking at the very same bar. One was a large burly man with a party hat reading, 'Joe', there was also a woman with blonde hair and deep grey eyes, her hat had the name 'Eien' scrawled across it in curly Sharpie, the last one was a lean man with broad shoulders, dark hair, and a bright smile. His hat read a name in the same curly marker, 'Bob'.
Outside the breeze rolled by and one could swear that the whistling of it through the buildings sounded like a voice. A voice whispering,
'Until next time, Eien.'