Cock & Bull - Laura Barnard Page 0,11

I ask, with an equally smug grin. ‘I mean, apart from the town arsehole of course.’

I can’t help but throw that in.

He smiles, as if pleased he annoys me. His lips are annoyingly perfect and plump. Nice cupid bow too. Never seen that on a guy before.

‘I’m Clooney.’

I burst out laughing. This guy must think I’m a real idiot. ‘Yeah, right. I’m sure your name is Clooney. George Clooney, right? Pull the other one.’

He raises one eyebrow. ‘What the feck’s wrong with ya? My name is Clooney. Do ya want to see my driving licence?’

I raise both eyebrows in challenge. ‘You’d have to for me to even consider believing you.’

I know this guy’s winding me up. I can see it in the amusement dancing in his eyes, which are actually more a forest green up close. If he kept his mouth shut he’d seem so dark and mysterious. Instead he’s an idiot.

He looks to Ella. ‘And there I was thinking you were hard work,’ he calls over to her with a chuckle.

She turns and flounces away, having apparently given up on the guy still staring into space at the bar.

He thrusts his hips into the air so his crotch is worryingly close to my face. Ah, he’s getting his wallet out of his jeans. Calm down, Phoebe. He’s not trying to sexually assault you.

He takes out his driving licence and throws it down onto the bar. I roll my eyes. Not even handing it over to me. Rude prat.

He could still be bluffing and hoping that I don’t pick it up. Fuck that, I’m checking.

I pick it up and fuck, his name is Clooney Breen. His photo is hilarious. His hair is longer and pulled over to one side. Total emo haircut.

‘Nice picture.’ I chuckle, handing it back and busying myself with cleaning the bar.

He smiles, looking at it fondly. ‘I was going through my Justin Bieber phase.’

I snort. ‘Please tell me you’re joking.’

‘Of course I’m joking.’ He chuckles but then stares at me with brows pulled tight together. ‘And you English are always saying how dumb we are.’

My back’s up straight away. ‘Did you just inadvertently call me dumb?’

He stares back. ‘Are you deliberately using big words so I think I’m wrong?’ He smirks.

Ugh, this guy.

I shake my head. ‘I don’t care what your name is. To me you’ll always be Small Town Arsehole.’

‘Suits me, sweetheart. Although I’ve never been referred to as small.’ He winks.

‘Do not call me sweetheart. You don’t know if my heart is sweet or sour.’

He grins. ‘Ah you’re right, so you are.’

The way they speak here gives me a headache. It like they add in extra words for no reason.

‘Yeah, you’re more a Poodles.’

‘Poodles? You’re calling me a poodle?’ God, Irish people are weird.

‘I am. You’re more a prissy poodle, looking down your nose at everyone.’

‘No I’m not!’ I have to change the subject before he chooses to call me Poodles forever. ‘So, what were you saying about those men?’ I glance down to the one still stood at the bar.

‘They’re from the funny farm down the road. Out on day release.’

‘Funny farm?’ I scoff. ‘That’s not very politically correct. I’m sure you meant mental health facility.’

He chuckles. ‘Okay, Poodles. If that sounds better to your sensitive English ears.’

‘They’re really let out on day release? Is that safe?’ Could he be winding me up?

He shrugs. ‘They’ve never caused any actual harm and most don’t get as far as the high street. They just like to explore around and then they’re rounded up to go home.’

‘Weird. Are they on day release every day?’

He smiles. ‘Worried about your business, Poodles? Don’t worry, I’d say they make the place look more busy.’

God, this guy is rude.

A tall skinny man in a grey suit walks in and steps up to the bar. Thank God for the distraction. I walk over, a big smile on my face.

‘Hi. What can I get you?’

‘I’m from Environmental Health.’ It’s only then I notice the clipboard in his hands. ‘I’m here to check the cleanliness of the property.’

The cleanliness? Shit! The bar might be clean but the kitchen is a wreck.

‘Oh, well we’re not actually selling food yet,’ I try to fend him off.

‘I’m aware.’ He nods, no hint of a smile. ‘You still have a responsibility to keep the premises clean.’

Shit. We’re done for.

‘Don’t worry. I know my way.’ He walks around the bar towards the kitchen.

‘Um...’ I push myself in front of him. ‘Let me just clean up first.’

One of the