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Ste was not hiding in the cellar.

He did spend much longer than necessary in the cellar, and definitely more time than he strictly needed to in there. But that was not the same as hiding. And it did have its advantages. The air was cool, it was much calmer and quieter than the bar above, and there was absolutely no sign of Brendan.

The highlight was definitely when Simon showed up.

He came in the back, while Ste was up to his elbows in warm water, and gave him a cheeky grin and a cheekier "Hallo."

"Alright?" said Ste with a smile of his own.

"So how's your night going?" asked Simon, as he lit a cigarette.

"I'm standing next to a great big pile of washing up, most of which will end up on your head if you ask something like that again," replied Ste.

Simon laughed, "Understood," he grinned, "but the way I hear it, this is your choice. Someone you're trying to avoid?"

Ste rolled his eyes. "What do you think?"

"Me?" said Simon, smoking happily, "I don't have opinions. They tend to get in the way of getting any supper."

"I wasn't asking your opinion!" Ste replied, but with humour. He realised he genuinely liked Simon. He was funny and relaxed and charming, and so long as he wasn't using that charm on Brendan, Ste could really let himself enjoy the man's company. "How do you get on with him?" Ste asked, trying not to sound as worried about what the answer might be as he felt.

"Who?" asked Simon, then grinned, "our esteemed leader?"

"Yeah," said Ste, coldly, "him."

Simon seemed to genuinely consider the question, but then glanced around nervously. "He ain't listening is he?"

Ste smiled, "No, course not."

"Because there was this conversation we had, before, where I let you know I was on a break, and the next thing I know Brendan's got his hands all over you," said Simon, mock nervously.

Ste snorted, "Yeah, well that ain't happening again," he announced with surety.

"So, you're not such a big fan of the boss right now?" asked Simon.

Ste was about to answer when he realised what Simon had managed to do, "Hey, how did this suddenly become about me? I asked you the question!"

Simon grinned at him, "You need to learn how to play your cards closer to your chest," he said, "sweet lad like you in particular."

"Eyar, I ain't sweet!" said Ste, "and anyway, we weren't talking about me." He pulled his hands out of the sink and looked Simon dead in the face, "It's your turn. What do you think about Brendan?"

Simon looked at him and took a long drag on his cigarette with a twinkle in his eye, like once again he was considering his answer deeply. Eventually he said "He's alright."

"He's alright?" repeated Ste

Simon shrugged, "A bit grumpy."

"Alright and a bit grumpy?" Ste repeated, "that all you've got to say?"

"Yeah," said Simon, "I think that sums him up quite well."

"Oh, well you're a lot of help!" Ste cried.

Simon grinned at him, "What did you want?"

"I don't know, some sort of genuine insight?" said Ste, not returning the grin.

"Well you've known him longer than me," said Simon, taking another drag on his cigarette.

"Yeah, but…" said Ste, "well, what did he want you to do today?"

Simon shrugged, "Something dodgy."

"What?" Ste repeated, still curious.

Simon flicked ash outside the door, "He told me not to say."

"Not to say what?" Ste tried.

"Anything," said Simon, "then a few minutes ago he told me if he saw me chatting to you again he'd cut my balls off." He sighed, "I like to think he's over exaggerating."

Ste flushed, embarrassed and annoyed, but still curious enough to try a different tack He went for as casual as he could, "But you can tell me what he's up to, I mean, he'll probably tell me himself soon."

"Nice try," said Simon, "but if I'm not supposed to talk to you at all, I think it'll look a bit suspicious if you suddenly know something only I could have told you."

"Yeah, well, he doesn't get to decide who I talk to!" said Ste, angrily. Who did Brendan think he was? Ste was pretty sure he'd done the closest to calling off their illegal, non-spoken of arrangement that any illegal, non-spoken of arrangement could possibly be. And even if he hadn't, he didn't get to control who Ste was friends with.

"Yeah, but for the sake of my testicles, which I do prize very highly, could we not mention this conversation to anyone else?" suggested Simon.

Ste nodded, studying him. "But you still started talking to me," he said. "Aren't you scared he'll do it?"

Simon shrugged, "A bit. But he'd have to catch me first."

Ste worried a lip. Simon looked fit and strong, but Ste knew Brendan was something else. Strong, but sneaky, underhand and clever. "I won't tell," he said.

"Thank you, Steven," said Simon with a smile.

Ste shivered, "Just, do me a favour…"

Simon put the cigarette out with a foot, "Depends on what it is, Steven."

"Don't call me that," said Ste. "It's Ste."

Simon didn't question it. He just accepted it, instantly. He nodded, kindly. "I can do that," he said.

"Thanks," said Ste, in a quiet voice, like a child.

Simon smiled, and shoved his hands in his pockets, "Well, my balls have told me I've been risking their safety long enough, now," he announced "it's time to get back to keeping the scum out." He half turned to go, but stopped, looking at Ste over his shoulder, "Maybe we can do this again sometime?"

"I'd like that," said Ste, completely honestly, "and I'm pretty sure your balls are quite safe."

Then he realised that comment could be taken in a number of ways. He blushed, but Simon just laughed, "See ya, Ste," he said, as he disappeared up the stairs.

Ten minutes later Jacqui marched down and ordered him to get his arse in gear and help her serve. Realising he could put interacting with everyone else off no longer, Ste accepted it and made his way up. Still Brendan was nowhere to be seen, and Ste wondered if he was up in the Greek room entertaining more dodgy people, or even finding himself a new shag. Both thoughts made him sad, even as they satisfied him that he had made the right call on Brendan.

He served politely but distractedly, always checking for the tell tale tall slim but muscular frame of Brendan each time someone entered. But he never did, so each time Ste returned to his duties not sure if he should feel satisfied or disappointed.

Cheryl came flapping down to them a few hours into the night, "Here, Jacqui, have you seen our Brendan?"

"No, not for ages," said Jacqui carelessly, dumping a customer's change in their outstretched palm.

Ste's ears pricked up, though he tried to pretend otherwise. He didn't listen to the man in front of him while the women were talking, "He seemed so down today, and I don't even know why."

Jacqui tutted, "It's just 'cause he is, isn't it? He's always like that."

"No, he's not!" Cheryl cried, annoyed. "I'm going to look for him."

She returned ten minutes later. Ste had managed to serve a lot of people, but there seemed to be more every moment. He still ignored them all to eavesdrop on Cheryl.

"He's sat in the office feeling sorry for himself," said Cheryl, "It must be about Eileen going off, poor love."

"Yeah, amazing," said Jacqui, sarcastically, and returned to serving, "what can I get you, love?"

"He just needs some fun, I think," said Cheryl, "Ste love, why don't you stay for a drink after work?"

Ste nearly dropped the glass he was holding, "Er, can't Cheryl, the kids…"

"Maybe I'll ask that Simon then," mused Cheryl, "he seems a nice lad, doesn't he Jacqui?"

"Oh, yeah, if by nice you mean face like an angel, personality of a demon," said Jacqui.

"Best sort, isn't it?" laughed Cheryl. Ste didn't laugh along, he was too busy picturing Brendan looking morose, and wondering if he was to blame. But that was stupid. Brendan was to blame. He was the violent one. What had he expected Ste to do?

The evening had grown late before he noticed Doug. In fact it was only a short while before closing. He had perched on a stool at the far end of the bar, where Rhys was doing his best to persuade him he'd had enough, but he was not having any of it. Rhys was just getting ready to throw him out when Ste intervened.

"Doug, how are ye?" he said, "Er, don't worry Rhys, I'll look after him."

"Oh, you'll look after me, will you?" sneered Doug, as Rhys shrugged and wondered off, "like your friend looked after my business?"

"I think you've had enough to drink now, you know," said Ste, ignoring the ramblings which he assumed to be nonsense.

"Actually, I don't think I have! I still remember my name, and the name of the guy who ruined everything!" Doug's voice was rising to a shout, "Brendan fucking Brady!"

"Here, keep your voice down!" hissed Ste. He'd managed the impossible of keeping out of Brendan's way all night, he was not going to have Doug ruin it with some nonsense.

"Why should I? He ruined my business, why I shouldn't I ruin his?!"

"You call that a business?" cried Ste, "that was petty crime!"

"Yeah, 'cause this place is totally sparkling white!"

"You need to calm down!" insisted Ste.

Doug suddenly went from angry to morose. "Why did he do it, Ste? Why? That was my livelihood! If I can't work, I'll starve!"

Ste sighed. Jacqui and Rhys were starting to throw people out, and mostly being quite successful. "Look, wait here," he told Doug as he came out from behind the bar to help with the clear up duty. There weren't many stragglers today, most of them went as they were egged on, but Doug sat miserably at the bar, and refused anything Rhys said.

"I'll handle it," Ste insisted to Rhys, but wasn't sure how. "Why don't you go home, eh? Things'll seem better in the morning."

"What, when I wake up in an alley under a newspaper!" said Doug, his voice rising until he was shouting again.

"You're homeless?" asked Ste, not believing it.

"Yeah, thanks to your boss!" Doug got up, presumably to illustrate his point, and swayed on his feet, then fell heavily back down and snored.

Ste took a decision, "Wait here!" he said again.

He rushed to the front door. Simon was urging people out into what Ste realised was a cold night. He couldn't let Doug stay out in this.

"Simon," he started.

"Ste!" greeted Simon, pleasantly, "to what do I owe this pleasure?"

Ste smiled, hopefully, "Could you possibly do me another favour?"

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