smackenzie

Lunch turned out to be sausages and eggs and beer at a nearby pub, a nice cozy place called The Ravelled Sleave. They’d been there before – it was frequented by bookbinders, since it was smack in the middle of the bookbinders’ quarter – and every time Lowe pointed out that they’d spelled “sleeve” wrong, and every time Alex commented that it was from an old story poem and Lowe should know that, and did he have to point it out every time they went there to eat or have a beer? And Lowe would say yes, he did, and it was Alex’s turn to buy the drinks.

They had to sit at the end of a long table, since all the small tables were occupied. One of the barmaids flirted with Lowe, because she always did, and he half-heartedly flirted back. He’d never been a very good flirt and was occasionally too flustered by girls flirting with him to do more than stammer or blink blankly. Alex thought it was cute, but then a lot of strange things Lowe did were cute. It made Alex wonder if Lowe had ever spent any time with girls when he was younger, or if he’d ever had a sister or girl cousins or an older aunt who liked to tell him how handsome he was. He knew Lowe wasn’t sexually attracted to women and would never take a harmless flirt to someplace serious, but Alex wasn’t attracted to girls either and he could take their flirting in stride. But he also had a sister.

The barmaid didn’t seem to mind that Lowe wasn’t exactly the most sparkling conversationalist, but then, for the year or more that Lowe and Alex had been together, and for the year or more that they’d been coming to the Ravelled Sleave, and for the year or more that the barmaid and been trying unsuccessfully to flirt with Lowe, he’d never been anything more than (at most) kind of distantly polite. Alex had guessed a while ago that she knew she’d never get anywhere with him, and she was just like that with all the cute men who came in.

In any case, she was quick on her feet and brought Alex some more bread and Lowe another beer, and they couldn’t complain. There wasn’t really much for them to complain about on a daily basis anyway, aside from the occasional stupid customer in Master Damon’s shop, or the occasional loud neighbor, or the occasional customer who ordered fifteen books bound exactly the same way and then refused to pay for them. Alex hated having to deal with people like that. He and Master Damon usually sent Hazel after them. She could be very persuasive.

“I really can’t tell you went to see the barber today,” Alex said to Lowe. Lowe finished chewing his sausage and felt around in his pocket.

“He took money from me,” he said, pulling out a handful of coins and counting them. “Not very much money, though. I think he feels sorry for me.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t have a regular job and I have to live off you.” He grinned. Alex shrugged.

“I don’t mind.”

“I know. It’s a good thing, too. Oh, there’s the girl I met yesterday in the stationer’s.” Lowe waved at someone just walking into the pub, and Alex turned to see a girl with light brown hair in a braid being dragged through the door by an excited yellow retriever.

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