*****
It was two in the morning. Grace had left in a taxi. Charlie was in his seat crying. I walked over and said ‘well done.’
‘That’s it,’ he smiled while crying, ‘I’ve finally told her’
‘Do you feel better now?’
‘Yes,’ he stood up and hugged me, ‘Thank you, Tony. Thank you for doing this’
‘It’s what I’m here for’
‘If there’s ever anything I can do’
‘Not at all,’ he hugged him back, ‘You’ve done well. Rest in peace now, Charlie’
‘Thank you’ echoed the empty room
Since I was a child, I have always been able to see the last regrets of people. That is what my mother called them. I knew later on that others called them ghosts. My tavern is a place for them. A final place for them to say their goodbyes.
*****
The next day Grace appeared. She knocked at the open door as I greeted her.
‘Tony, is it?’ she asked
‘Yes,’ I nodded, ‘Grace, right? How can I help’
‘I,’ she paused before finding some courage, ‘I wanted to ask you about Charlie’
‘Oh,’ I said, ‘How can I help’
I didn’t like this part of the job. I stood with my chest out, and my back straight. I wanted to address her properly.
‘Is,’ she paused again, ‘Is he dead?’
Often, my guests want to see people they haven’t seen in years or decades. In most cases, the people do not know they have died. It was one of my preferences when dealing with guests. Charlie ensured me Grace didn’t know he was dead.
‘How did you know?’ I smiled
I saw a faint sign of her heart breaking but she hid it straight away.
‘One night, we were out all night. All we did was walk to the sea and back. But at one point, we took a nap at a bus shelter. I was pretending to sleep when I heard him say he liked me, but it’ll take death for him to ever find the courage to ask me out’
‘That’s very like him’ I laughed
‘He was always honest,’ she cried, ‘Even in death’
I invited her in and offered her tea. We chatted about Charlie and her feelings as well. After a while she stood up to leave.
‘Thank you, Tony,’ she smiled, ‘For letting us be together’
‘Not at all, Grace’
I sighed with a tiny bit of happiness. Though it can be painful sometimes, running this tavern was the right choice. As I watched Grace leave, someone new arrived. Someone with one last regret in their lives.
‘Are you Tony?’ she asked
‘Good afternoon, Miss. How can I help?’
###
About the author
“Whoa, the first damn story I’ve finished in a while! I deserve a pat on the back.
I hope you enjoyed the story. Right now I’m feeling a lot like Charlie. I’m pretty much a coward so I think I will be taking these feelings of mine to my grave. Even if I regret it even more. But maybe, I’ll find the courage one day, who knows?”
For those who are tragically obsessed, Nobo13 was born 1987 in Cambridgeshire. He spent four years doing a Physics degree but spend most of the time doodling and writing. Currently he is somewhat of a teacher.
Nobo13’s pen name is derived from using his surname, just look above! His more unusual hobbies are collecting headphones, yoyos, staring aimlessly out the window (which consumes much of his time) and messing about with musical instruments- at the moment these are ocarinas and ukuleles.
Please check out my website and my other works, thanks for reading!
More from this author
Please check out the following links:
The Man in the Desert:
Lost in the Painting
Fixing Broken Promises
The Empty Necklace
Time left over
You can also search ‘nobo13’ in the iBooks store!
Be sure to check my website every now and then for news and updates!
Connect with me online
My website: https://www.wix.com/nobo13/nobo13
My blog: https://nobo13.wordpress.com/
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