Cervena (24 page)

“I am better.” Sasha grinned at me. “Enough to go and look anyway. I’m not sure I’d be up to dancing for your customers just yet.”

“Whatever I do, you won’t be dancing. Not for anybody other than me anyway.”

The following day, Sasha and I traveled to Woking to look around the area where the bar was situated. The High Street and surrounding streets were a hive of activity, and I observed a few small bars and pubs in the vicinity. We went into one or two to look around and see how popular they were. As Friday afternoon neared early evening, people piled in until the two places Sasha and I had been were down to standing room only. I observed the patrons, noting that one of the bars seemed aimed more at young people while the second was a family-style establishment.

“I wonder if they have a gay bar in this town,” I mused.

Sasha nudged me with his elbow. “Look to your left.”

I turned and spotted two guys in a corner, one with his arm around the other’s waist as the pair whispered together, noses almost touching. Taking Sasha’s hand in mine, I led him toward them and halted close by. “Hey, guys.”

They glanced at me suspiciously, then noticed Sasha gripping my hand and relaxed.

“All right, mate,” one greeted me. “Haven’t seen you in here before.”

“I’ve been living away for a few years. My name’s Joel. This is Sasha.”

“Andy.” The man nodded and released his partner to shake my hand. “This is Tom.”

“Nice to meet you. I wondered if there are any gay bars not too far from here. It seems not, but….” I shrugged.

“No, you need to go into the city. We’ll be heading there later. We’re just having a couple of drinks first,” Tom said.

“You can join us if you want,” Andy offered.

“Thanks, but I’m actually doing some research. I’m thinking of setting up a business around here. Maybe another bar. I wanted to find out if it’d be welcome.”

“A gay bar? Hell, yes!” Tom exclaimed. “I’d sure as hell prefer to walk to the pub than get on the train, if there was something nearer. We’ve got a few mates in Woking and nearby who’d feel the same.”

“That’s good to know. How do you feel about cocktails?”

Tom grinned. “It’s alcohol, right?”

“Have you got a venue in mind?” Andy asked.

“Yes, but it’d probably be a year before it was up and running.”

“Not that burnt-out bar down the street?” He raised his eyebrows. “Oh well. It’d be good to see something happen to it. It’s been like that for months. I don’t think anyone’s fool enough, or brave enough, to take it on.”

“I’ve done a similar project before. I had a club in Prague. It was once a restaurant. Big place. I turned it into a dance club and cocktail bar. That little bar down the street wouldn’t be impossible to turn around.”

“Well, I hope you do it. There’s definitely room for something like that here.” Tom nodded and finished his drink. “You can count on us to shout about it to everybody if you take it on.”

Sasha and I chatted to the pair a little longer until they headed off to catch a train into the city. We went to look at the outside of the bar once more and noted the small parking area at the rear, and a fire escape to the upper floor. By the time we returned to Rosalyn’s house, I’d more or less made up my mind.

Sasha switched on my laptop to check his new Facebook page again, and although he was delighted to have a lengthy message from Tomáš, there was no reply to the message he’d sent to Elena.

“Perhaps she hasn’t seen it yet,” I suggested. “Kaliningrad is two hours ahead of here, so it’s late at night now. But if she’s using someone else’s computer or one in school, maybe she can only do that occasionally. You might have to wait a few days.”

“I suppose.”

“She’s been looking for you for a year, Sasha. She’ll answer. Give it time.”

“Of course. You’re right. I’ll just keep checking until I hear from her.”

After only a slight hesitation, I decided to set up my own Facebook profile, mainly to keep in touch with my old employees. Like Sasha, I reconnected with Tomáš, Gabriel, and Kris, and found Ralph too. There was no reason to lose touch with people who’d been loyal workers and friends, just because I was in another country. Tomáš had told Sasha about his boyfriend, Boris, and that Vincenc seemed “awesome” and their new manager was friendly, but quiet. It pleased me to hear they were all going to be looked after.

The following morning Sasha checked his messages again, but there was still no contact from Elena. On opening up the message Sasha had sent her, I pointed out that she hadn’t yet seen it. Sasha downloaded the Facebook app onto his new cell phone so he could look at it wherever he was and whenever he wanted.

After breakfast I contacted the agent selling the bar and arranged to view the inside. Sasha came with me, and we spent an hour there, me tapping notes into my phone as we went over the place in detail. The agent shuffled and paced impatiently, glancing at his watch every so often until I was done.

“So, how willing would the owner be to negotiate the price?” I asked eventually. The agent’s bored expression quickly vanished.

“I’m sure something could be arranged. Are you thinking of making an offer?”

“I’m considering it. Have you had any other viewings?”

“Not one. Hardly surprising.”

With no viewings, I imagined the owner would be keen to get rid of the building. It was worth taking a chance on a lower offer. “I can offer three fifty. Cash. If the owner will accept that, as soon as the solicitors have the papers ready, I could have a bank transfer made for the full amount.”

“So you won’t be looking at taking a mortgage?”

“No.”

“Well.” The agent smiled. “That sounds promising. I’ll need to make a call. Will you excuse me for a few minutes?” He went outside, leaving Sasha and me standing by the charred wood, which had once been a curved bar.

“What do you think? Am I completely crazy?” I gazed around as I waited for Sasha to reply, imagining the building fully refurbished, music playing, three or four guys serving drinks, and a crowd of gay men, and maybe women too, filling the place.

“Maybe a little. But I like it. Could I work behind the bar here?”

“You could manage it if you wanted.”

“Sirs….” The agent appeared again, a smile on his face. “I’ve spoken to the owner’s solicitor. He feels a reduction of fifty thousand is a little much. Would you be willing to increase your offer?”

“I don’t think so. There are other places available which would require a lot less work. I’m sure you could find another buyer… eventually.” I spoke casually, keeping a poker face. One thing I’d always been good at was negotiation. I’d secured Červenà for a much lower price than Karel had expected, by playing on the owner’s desperation to get rid of a building nobody wanted. “Why don’t you speak to the solicitor again and let me know? You have my number.” I ushered Sasha to the door and we left the man staring after us.

Sasha glanced at me and grinned. “I bet they’ll call. They’re probably desperate to get rid of the place.”

“I know. I’m about 90 percent sure he’ll accept. I could have asked them to reduce by more and they’d probably have accepted it just to get a sale.” I halted on the street and looked back at the bar with a smile. I knew it was going to be mine.

“What will you call it?” Sasha tucked his hand through my arm and rested his chin on my shoulder. “Have you got any ideas?”

“The Red Bar.” The name came to me without having to think about it. It would be a smaller and somewhat tamer version of Červenà, so giving it the English version of the name seemed appropriate.

I took Sasha home, and we spent the next hour poring over the computer, looking for potential accommodation to rent in Woking, and an hour later my phone rang.

“The owner is willing to accept your offer,” the agent told me. “The documents can be drawn up over the next couple of weeks.”

“That’s great news, thank you.” I held back my delight until I’d ended the call. Sasha and Rosalyn were both on the edges of their seats waiting for me to speak. “I bought a bar! We have a business, Sasha. Now we just need to get ourselves a home.”

Chapter Sixteen

TYPICAL OF
UK delays, three weeks passed before I finally held the deeds to the bar in my hands. By then Sasha and I had moved into a cottage on the outskirts of Woking. I would have chosen a large apartment, but Sasha fell in love with the cottage the moment he saw it on an estate agent’s website, claiming it was “cute.” The property was larger inside than it looked from the outside, but I had to remember to duck my head when I walked into the bedroom, to avoid bashing it on the low doorframe.

The cottage was twice the distance from my new Red Bar that my condo in Prague had been from Červenà, and I decided I would have to buy a car. Public transport took the scenic route, and taxis usually had to be booked in advance. Sasha was keen to learn to drive and had already applied for a provisional drivers’ license, and I knew he’d love to have a car.

I sat at our small breakfast bar, sipping coffee as Sasha checked his Facebook messages on his phone. So far Elena still hadn’t read his message, and he despaired of her contacting him. But as I glanced at him his face lit up and split into a wide smile.

“She read my message! She’s online now!” He waited with bated breath until a reply came up on his screen, then showed it to me before he answered.

Sasha, where have you been? I missed you so much. Mother and Father told me you didn’t want to come home. They said you had a new life. Why didn’t you call me?

“I don’t want to make her hate our parents, but I should tell her the truth,” he mused. “She wouldn’t believe I just moved on and forgot about her.” While he pondered on what to say, Elena typed another message.

I heard a story that you were made to leave because you like boys. Is that true?

“Oh shit.” He chewed his lip.

“She hasn’t said anything bad. It’s a good opportunity to just get it out.” I touched his arm and he nodded. I watched as he tapped out a response.

Yes, it’s true. You know what our community is like. I couldn’t be happy there. Someone found out and hurt me, so it was safer to leave. I found a place to live in Prague where everybody accepts me. I met someone there, an Englishman named Joel, and he brought me to England to join his family.

I waited for her response almost as eagerly as Sasha. Her message came quickly as if she’d been hammering her keyboard in excitement at reconnecting with her brother.

I cannot believe you didn’t tell me! I know I was just a kid when you left, but I still had my own mind. I know what our parents think, but it doesn’t mean I’m the same. I have a friend in school who is gay. He has to hide all the time, and I’m the only person who knows. He’s too young to have a boyfriend, but he says as soon as he’s old enough to go away to college, he’ll leave so he can be himself and meet somebody. I’m glad you have someone. What is he like? Is his family nice?

“Wow,” Sasha muttered and began to type again. I left him to talk to his sister and got to work on making calls. I had a list of contractors I’d compiled, and needed to arrange for them to visit the bar and give me quotations for restoration work. Sasha eventually put his phone away and told me Elena had to stop talking and go to her next class. She went to an IT club and used the school computer for her search for Sasha, when there was little chance of her being caught.

Sasha came with me to the club to meet the contractors, but it was clear he was distracted, over the moon at reconnecting with Elena. I stayed for the rest of the day, meeting with one company after another, while he returned to the cottage and promised to make something for us to eat that evening.

By the time I left the bar, I’d met with builders, joiners, decorators, electricians, and plumbers, and had been promised written quotations within a few days. Things were moving forward, and from what the various contractors had told me, perhaps it wouldn’t be a year before the Red Bar could open. I could see it happening by the end of the year—assuming the planning permission I’d applied for was approved quickly. The woman I’d spoken to at the planning office seemed to think it wouldn’t take too long. I wasn’t intending to change the outer structure of the building, and the fact that it was going to be used again, and for a similar purpose as before, was encouraging.

I arrived home to find a delicious smell of meat, garlic, and basil permeating the cottage, and a steaming bath waiting for me upstairs.

“I thought it was time I spoiled you. You’ve done so much for me. And I’m all better now.” Sasha grinned as I stepped closer to kiss him. Since arriving in England the most we’d done was mutual blow jobs, and as hot as that always was, I couldn’t wait to fuck him again. It had been much too long.

I soaked in the bath while Sasha finished dinner, the almost too-hot water relaxing my leg, which throbbed painfully after hours standing up. By the time I got out, my fingers had gone wrinkly and my skin had turned a vivid shade of red. I toweled dry and dressed in jeans and a shirt before joining Sasha downstairs.

Our living room had space for a small dining table and two chairs in one corner, and Sasha had set the table with a white cloth, cutlery, and wine glasses. We ate spaghetti with ragù, garlic bread, and salad, followed by ice cream in assorted flavors.

“This reminds me of that restaurant we used to go to, only better,” I commented.

“I don’t think my cooking is as good as theirs.”

“It’s better because you did it. And the best thing is that I get to do this.” I leaned across the table and pressed a warm kiss onto his mouth. He tasted of chocolate and strawberry ice cream.

“Not yet.” He pulled away and began gathering up the dishes. “I have something else for you first.”

“What’s that?”

“Wait and see. Turn your chair around.”

Curious, I turned my chair away from the table and sat waiting while he cleared the table, dimmed the lights, and selected some music. My lips twitched as I remembered that night he’d promised me a surprise. I wondered if he’d been going to dance for me then, before the man with the thick lips had snatched him from under my nose. My pulse quickened and a twitch in my groin made me grin. Over and over since that first date with Sasha, things had got in the way of our relationship. We hadn’t had much opportunity to date or have fun, and as hard as I’d tried to put him first, there had always been something interrupting us. Now it was just him and me. At last his ribs were healed, and he could do what he’d clearly been planning a long time.