The Summer We Said Goodbye [Installment 5]

Welcome to the Windy Arms

Except for a crest on the front door, the Windy Arms looked like any other building in Windy Hollow, a soggy stone structure of ancient origin. Aris checked the nameplate to make sure it was the right place. It was, which was a good thing since the rain was now coming down in sheets. We hustled inside with our bags and pushed through to anteroom, doubling as a small lobby. 

A brass bell sat on a desk with a “Ring me” sign next to it. So, Aris did.

Outside, thunder boomed, and lightning flashed.

We were about to give the bell another try when the sound of glass shattering stopped us.

“Oh, no, Tammy!  Not the whole lot — ”

“Don’t look at me. She didn’t hand it off proper.”

We tracked the commotion down a corridor where we found our new colleagues ferrying up flood-soaked cases of wine from a root cellar in a sloppy free-for-all.

The cause of the ruckus lay in the middle of the floor, a heap of wet cardboard and broken glass oozing a puddle of thick red goo. 

No sooner had I rounded the corner than I hit the slick, my feet shooting out from under me. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, boyo, steady on — !”

A chap around my age caught me by the waist as the rest of the crew looked up, consternation flashing across their mud-splattered brows.

Headlong into the void stepped Aris, extending her hand with aplomb.

“Hi, I’m Aris, and you just saved Cosmo’s ass.” 

Aris had a habit of laughing at her own jokes, a high-pitched staccato number that was either remarkably self-confident or annoyingly self-important, depending upon who was listening. 

The group stared back, giving us the once-over — Aris’ loafers and pearls, my flip-flops and California tan.

There were three of them, not counting the chap at my back: a young girl and two other lasses around our age. 

“We got guests!” the young girl hollered into the cellar.

Aris laughed again. “Oh, no, we’re not guests. We’re Aris and Cosmo.”

Daft silence followed by frantic whispering punctuated by a very audible, “Ah, yes, the Yanks!”

Out from the cellar scrambled Vic, the Windy Arms’ innkeeper, followed by Matty, his deputy, a middle-aged woman with a scowl.

“Right O, Aris. Cheerio, welcome!  How was your flight? Safe journey, I trust?” Vic shook Aris’ hand effusively.

“Wonderful, thank you.”

“And Timothy, fetched you from the airport straightaway?”

“He was perfect.”

“Brilliant!  And this must be — ?”

“THIS is Cosmo,” Aris announced, stressing the “this” a little too hard.

“Yes, of course, ‘Cosmo,’” he bowed his head apologetically and repeated my name as if lodging it in his brain. “C…o…s…m…o...”

The chap at my back still had me by a belt loop and dutifully released me, sending me sliding through the goo all over again.

“Looks like CAHSMO needs some Wellies,” quipped the lass closest to the cracked case of wine.

“Tammy — please!” Vic pointed her to a mop in the corner and mimed swabbing motions.

“Terrible mess, as you can see. A full fortnight of rain already, ground’s soaked clear through. If we don’t get the bottles up, out, and — Ah, but you must be knackered and famished?”

Aris’ laugh was more of a warble this time and lacked any of the gusto of her earlier deliveries. I could tell she was mulling over Vic’s offer of rest and refreshments by the way she was squinting. I was starving, myself, but the grimy faces of our new workmates staring back at us dictated otherwise.

“We’re happy to join the cleanup effort, Vic.”

“Oh, Cosmo, really, that’s very chivalrous of you, but you must be spent, no?” A slight vocal uptick and furtive glance to take Aris’ temperature gave him away.

“Absolutely, it’s why we’re here,” I insisted. Aris knew not to begrudge me these matters.

“Of course, we’ll pitch in. It’s only obvious,” she relented as gamely as possible.

“Aces!” He clapped his hands in a singular note of glee.  “Now, Cosmo, there’s quite a bit of lifting down below. And Aris, do be a love and join the other girls wiping down the lot already up. Save as many labels as you can!”

“Guess I’ll just go grab me some Wellies, then,” I mugged in Tammy’s direction before promptly falling flat on my ass.

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You can find a full archive of past installments and posts here.