The restaurant had a boardwalk type thing that sat over the water of the harbour. For some reason, Hans felt drawn to the smell of the salty air and the distant stink of marine diesel, so once he’d made his order he grabbed a number by its silver pole and wound his way through the tables, apologising to the other mindless patrons wandering around without a care in the world.

He didn’t call them arseholes out loud, but he thought it loudly and he hoped they heard him.

I’m being ridiculous.

The tables out here were like picnic benches, polished yet worn, uncomfortable, horrendously awkward, but offering a peace that he simply wasn’t feeling.

The chair part things were also attached to the table somehow, and he only just prevented himself from performing a spectacular trip as he went to sit down. At least the lights were dim.

He should have ordered a drink.

Sailboats sat in the murky water under overhead lights that looked like they hadn’t been cleaned in years. There was even the occasional high powered “yacht”, which had never been a thing in the town until recently.

‘Yatch-ett,’ Hans muttered under his breath. It had taken him quite some time as a kid to say that right. He knew they were “yotts” so why some damn fool had written it like that was beyond him.

Then again, much of the English language was beyond him when it came to spelling things out. It was the one thing he’d had a problem with in school. Maths hadn’t been an issue, science made sense most of the time, history was like storytelling but with real people, but English itself, written down, was stupid. Well, it was or he was, and he preferred to think it was, because no one had ever called him stupid aside from Solway, and she only got away with it because she was his sister.

He took a deep breath of the harbour air. Maybe he should have been a whaler like Granddad. They didn’t have to spell shit. The fact no one was a whaler anymore because it wasn’t nice and there weren’t too many whales, was not the point. It was the idea of being out on a big metal ship and fighting the elements, being shoved from one side of the boat to the other by massive waves while you had a rope tied around your waist, and being whacked by various loose machinery that should be tied down but wasn’t. . . That was what he liked about it.

It is highly possible I’m having a thirty-something crisis. He grinned to himself. Cool. At least it isn’t boring.

He’d never seen a large hairy dog on a ship before, so he supposed it might not have worked out for him. How he’d managed to get into the Hospitality industry was beyond him as well. Then again, he hadn’t had the tendency to turn into a dog when he’d started so . . .

He’d been mumbling to himself. ‘I can’t even cook.’

‘That’s why you’re here.’

The voice came from beside him and he glanced sideways. ‘Oh good, you’ve arrived. Finally.’

Solway frowned. ‘You’re being more of a prick than usual, Hans. What happened today?’ She sat down opposite him.

‘You look nice,’ he replied. ‘Not too nice though, so my chances of pickin–‘

‘God, you’re an arsehole.’

He grinned. ‘I never said I wasn’t.’ Then he frowned. He hadn’t even checked out the other table to see what else was on the menu. This was highly unusual for him. ‘I need a drink.’

Solway ignored him. ‘You’ve picked a nice spot.’ She looked around. ‘You can see the entire restaurant from here.’

‘And they can see me, which is more to the point.’

‘Are you putting yourself on show again?’

‘When do I not?’

‘True.’

‘Let’s talk about you for a change,’ Hans muttered, trying to change the subject.

‘That’s not why I’m here.’

He growled.

Solway growled back, then took a deep breath. ‘We can’t do this here.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘You know.’ She shoved a lock of blonde hair behind one ear. ‘If we get angry with each other, you know what happens.’

‘Oh right,’ Hans scowled. ‘Dogs. I need a drink right now. Please go and get me a drink, Sol. I’ve had a shit day and I need a drink.’

‘Then maybe you should go and get me a drink too,’ Solway grinned. ‘That way, you’ll pay for it and I won’t have to.’

He shrugged. ‘Good point. What do you want.’

‘Whatever you’re having.’

‘Bourbon?’

‘Sounds good to me.’

Hans got up. smoothed down his dress pants, realised he was still wearing his elastic-sided boots, shook his head and began walking to the bar. He could have picked up three women on the way, but he didn’t. He just wanted to spend some time with his sister tonight, so if the universe could get that sorted for him, that’d be grand.

On the way back to the table, a woman grabbed at his sleeve. He stopped, and tried not to glare.

‘Can I help you,’ he asked politely.

‘Do you people do sandwiches?’ She smiled. He may very well have detected an American accent.

‘I beg your pardon?’

The smile faltered slightly, then came back with a brightness that almost blinded him. ‘Do you work here?’

‘No.’

‘Oh. How do I get someone’s attention around here?’ She seemed pretty enough in a normal, not too exciting, kind of way.

‘Usually, you go to the front there and make an order.’ He looked at his sleeve. She still clutched it. ‘Do you mind?’

‘Not really.’

‘Well, I do.’ He pulled his arm out of her grip. ‘Have a nice night, lady. See you later.’

‘See you later?’ A frown puckered her forehead.

‘Not literally. Just let go of me. Oh.’ He grimaced. ‘You have. Well, anyway. Bye.’

‘Bye?’

‘Yes.’ He stomped back to Solway, not shouldering anyone out of the way and definitely not spilling a drop of their drinks. ‘Drink it quickly,’ he snarled. ‘I’m going back for more.’

Solway started laughing. ‘What’s happened now?’

He told her. She laughed louder. ‘Priceless,’ she said.

‘You think?’

‘I do. Thank you,’ she added as a nice young lady dropped some bread rolls in front of them.

‘Oh look,’ said Hans sarcastically. ‘No whipped garlic butter. Amazing.’

‘What the hell are you talking about?’

‘Never mind.’ He drained his glass, ice clinking against his teeth. ‘Hurry up.’

‘I shouldn’t have anymore, I’m driving.’

Hans sighed. ‘Can I not get you an Uber or something?’

‘No, Hans. I just came down because you sounded off.’

‘Look, it’s not that bad. I’m just being dramatic, which as you know, should be fairly normal to you, being a girl and all that.’

‘I am not going to say the first word that came into my head then, Hans, because, as a “girl”, I would not usually say it, but let me tell you one thing. It was not a very nice word.’ Solway glared at him. ‘At all.’

‘Okay. Sorry.’ He wasn’t sorry. ‘My bad.’

‘Don’t be pretentious.’

‘That’s a big word, Solway.’

Her eyes got all squinty. ‘Stand up.’

‘What?’

Stand up. You said you were going to get another drink, so stand up you, you… not very nice person.’

‘Why?’

Because I am going to smack your arse like the child you are being.’

‘I dare you,’ Hans stood up.

Solway slapped him hard on the backside and it actually really stung.

‘Ow. Fuck. You bitch.’

‘Get another drink, areshole. If you’re lucky I’ll still be here when you get back.’

‘Fine.’

He stomped back into the restaurant, realised there were several women watching him and grinning quite openly (they had possibly seen Solway whack him), stopped stomping, smoothed down his hair, avoided the table where the American was now studying what seemed to be a vegemite sandwich from the kids menu, and headed to the bar.

‘Make it a double,’ he said. ‘Clearly, I need one.’

‘Clearly,’ said the bartender and made him one without delay.

Chapter two to be continued…. :)