Chapter 6

The working day was well over at The Messenger and Kenny was still at his desk, working on his council story. The articles Lynda had sent over had taken longer than anticipated and it was only now that he was just about caught up.

"Hey, Kenny!" It was Mick, one of the guys from Classifieds. "Didn't think you were still here, mate. I'm heading down to Raglan's for a beer if you're thirsty."

"Raglan's? Isn't that the backpacker pub?" asked Kenny. "Why are you going there?" Mick laughed.

"Because, my old mate Kenny, it is always full of the finest women the world has to offer. English, Irish, Finnish, Swedish, Norwedish . . . all out to experience the best of Australia. I take it upon myself, as a matter of national pride, to allow them to have that experience."

Kenny laughed. "And what do I have to offer? Guys like me are common as mud where they're from!"

"There's Aussie girls there too, International Master," replied Mick. "Come on, mate, you know you want to! Get your pommy arse out of that chair, shut down your computer and let's go explore the world, one lady at a time."

"Well, when you put it like that," grinned Kenny.

"Good man. Come on!"

They walked a couple of blocks down the street from the Messenger building to Raglan's Hotel. Being a weeknight, it was not overly busy but had a good number of tanned young people chatting with a variety of accents.

"I'll get the first round," said Mick. "Grab us that table over there." He made his way to the bar as Kenny took a seat at the table. Feeling a bit overdressed compared to the singlets and hiking shorts around him, he took off his tie and unbuttoned his shirt a little.

"Loosened up already?" Mick asked, placing a beer in front of him. "Get that into ya!"

"Cheers!" replied Kenny and drank up.

"You should see the girl behind the bar," said Mick after a few minutes and whistled appreciatively. "Irish redhead. Absolute stunner."

Kenny craned his neck to see and spotted her immediately, looking straight back at him. He smiled bashfully and she smiled back before serving another customer.

"Well, well!" said Mick. "Good thing it's your buy."

"Hmm?" asked Kenny, stupidly. Mick pointed to their empty glasses.

"It's your round, mate. Get up there and see if you can't get more than a smile out of her."

Normally, back in England, Kenny would probably have run a mile at this suggestion but fortified by the beer and Mick's encouragement, Kenny took a deep breath and marched to the bar.

To his dismay, it was a guy with a pierced eyebrow and Germanic accent who approached and asked him what he wanted.

"Err," replied Kenny. "Can I have a minute, I haven't decided yet."

"Whatever," shrugged the bartender and moved off to serve someone else.

The lovely redhead was now serving at the other end of the bar. She spotted him and smiled again. Kenny smiled back before his vision was obscured.

"Have you decided yet?" asked the male bartender impatiently.

"Uh, no," replied Kenny, feeling decidely idiotic. The bartender rolled his eyes before turning away again. Kenny looked down at the bar, embarassed, and when he lifted his head again, there she was.

"Hello," she said. "What will you have?"

"Hello," he replied. "Can I get two beers, please?"

"You can," she replied. "Draught all right?"

"Oh, yes, fine," he said distractedly and watched as she expertly poured the beer into two sideways glasses.

"$4.50, please," she said. Kenny fumbled in his pocket. He knew he had the right money but deliberately brought out a twenty-dollar note so she would have to bring him change.

"There's $15.50," she said, coming back from the cash register.

How to keep her talking? Kenny impulsively dumped his $15.50 into the tips jar.

"Very kind," she smiled. "What's your name? Or should I just call you Big Spender?" Oh, that accent! Kenny was melting like the ice someone had spilt on the bar.

"Kenny," he mumbled.

"Kelly," she said.

"No, Kenny," he said clearly. "Two 'n's"

She smiled patiently. "And I'm Kelly. Two 'l's."

"Oh, right," Kenny died internally of embarrassment at least four times.

"So, where are you from, then, Kenny of the two 'n's?" She picked up a tea towel and started drying glasses.

"Er, Norbridge. West of London," he replied.

"And what brings you to Australia?" she asked.

"Oh, you know, getting out, seeing the world, the usual kind of thing," he said. "How about you?"

"Running from a broken heart, the usual kind of thing," she replied.

"Oh, I'm sorry," said kind-hearted Kenny, immediately. "Were you together long?"

"Only a day, as it happens," she replied. "I fell in love with a wrong number! Isn't that mad?"

Kenny's eyes widened in disbelief and his legs turned to jelly.

"Dublin?" he whispered.

The glass Kelly was holding smashed to the floor as she invoked the name of Kenny's favourite Glaswegian relative.

"Aunt Rachel?"