Read Online The Fly Guy by Colum Sanson-Regan - Free Book Online

waitress, “it’s not like you can plan everything is it? I mean, look at me. I was only going to stay here two weeks. That was two years ago.” They laughed.
    “Something must have caught your interest then,” Martin said.
    “Well, something or someone,” she replied, raising her eyebrows and smiling her neon smile. “I will let you know soon as that table is free, guys,” and she walked away.
    “But Martin, you are in control. It’s up to you what happens,” said Alison.
    “Ah, that’s it, that’s not the point. The point is, the point is—” Martin ate another olive and placed his little stick down across the neat line Alison had created on the side of the plate, like a bar in a fence, “—the story is about Lucy. If Bloomburg comes along, everyone’s story will change.” He pushed the plate away and turned around in his bar stool, scanning the restaurant.
    Couples and small clusters of people ate and talked and poured each other’s wine and water. How many stories were changing right now, in this room? How many people would rise after this meal, wipe their mouths with their napkin and pay the bill, with their lives altered? None, Martin thought. Because even when people made decisions it was not until the action was carried through that change actually occurred. And actions can be deferred. How many life-changing moments are there in a lifetime? He saw a waiter place a fresh tablecloth and wine glasses on a table for two near the door. He turned back to the bar.
    Alison said, “You’re making this hard for yourself. Just give them another story then. Change it. Or start a new one. Give them what they want. They love the detective, they love him.” She chewed the last olive and put the little stick next to the others, and moved the one Martin had placed across so that it was standing in line.
    The bar lady was back.
    “Table six is ready now,” she said. “Sorry again about the wait.”
    As Alison gathered her bag and her wine glass, Martin said, “And you, are you still with the person you stayed here for? I mean, did it work out?”
    Alison looked up sharply, and said, “Martin, that’s none of your—” but the bar lady cut her off.
    “Oh no, it’s okay,” she said. She was blushing, crimson showing on her tanned cheeks. “It didn’t work out with that guy. He turned out to be a total loser, but I’m with an amazing fella now that I would never have met if I hadn’t stayed in the first place. So it did work out. Not the way I thought it was going to. Not quite a fairy tale, but—”
    Alison put her hand on the bar lady’s arm and said, “Really, I must apologise for him.”
    The bar lady just smiled. The redness was fading from her cheeks now. “That’s okay, really. Number six is over there by the door. Enjoy your meal.”
    As the evening turned, Martin couldn’t help but look around at the other diners. He watched them chew and mumble, saw heads tilt and eyebrows rise as they listened and were listened to. He saw one woman put down her fork, reach across and put her hand on the hand of the woman sitting opposite. The man at the next table was twisting and twisting his napkin in his hands just below the table edge. He and Alison talked about the present, guessed about the future, and laughed about the past. Maybe he was wrong about no-one in this room having life-changing moments.
    A lifetime is long. He was thinking too quickly. He was thinking of change as being something instant, but change can happen at a creeping pace. It depends on the pressure. Change takes pressure and pressure needs to build. That build was one long moment, he just didn’t know when it would end.
    Later, while Alison was looking at the dessert menu, she said, “If you do continue the Lucy story, don’t kill her off.”
    Martin sat back in his chair, then forward. “What? Kill her off?”
    “Well I’ve only read a few of your stories, but it seems like if there’s an attractive girl, she gets