“There’s no shame in it,” Aileen nods at you approvingly. “My old mother used to drink like a fish and it was the death of her.”
”I’m sorry to hear…” you recite automatically.
”Ah, don’t be maudlin! She had a fine old time of it.” Aileen digs into her curry.
”But what if we’re at The Anchor and jinge laughs at me for drinking fizzy pop?” you ask.
”Lager+,” says Bae. “It’s a codeword between Aileen and me. If you go to the bar and ask for Lager+, Aileen will give you a shandy – a lager carefully watered-down with lemonade and no-one will be the wiser.”
”But if you want a real pint, you can have a real pint,” says Aileen, “I’m not your old man.”
After a casual interrogation from Aileen about your studies (“Oh, don’t mind me! I’m a nosey old cow!”) dinner is over. Bae waves Aileen away from the washing up. “You’ll be late for your evening shift,” says Bae.
After the door slams with a bellowed farewell, the kitchen is suddenly very quiet. “Aileen likes you,” says Bae. “She’s a good ally to have in your corner. If you get into any trouble tonight, and I’m not around, she’ll help you.”
Ready for the pub? (goto 72)