𝐀𝐧𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬

"I'M HERE ABOUT THE JOB AS A BARMAID."

The sound of a women's voice caused Marie to lift her head from sorting the small glasses. She focused on the woman, her curiosity building like a cat fixated upon its prey. A tumble of blonde curls fell as she removed her jacket. It wasn't that bland colour that's just a shade nicer than the white of old age, it was streaked with warm golden hues and butterscotch. It gave her some warmth, complementing her pale face rather than making her look washed-out. Then as she turned to look Marie's way and she found herself surprised all over again, her eyes were not the honey brown she'd expected, they were the colour of watery blue.

"Are you mad?" She heard Harry question, breaking her train of thoughts.

"Do you know about this place?" Harry once again questioned.

"I saw it an advirtisment."

"Jobs been filled." He lied smoothly, his gaze flicking over to Marie who's eyes remained cold and hard rimmed focused on the woman.

"It was in yesterday's paper." She stated rather stubbornly, her gaze for the first time falling onto the girl opposite her.

"Believe me, love," Marie spoke, "he's doing you a favour."

"They'd have you up against a wall." She explained while the blonde looked rather offended.

"I have experience and references." She added, handing the sheets of paper over to Harry.

"What part of Ireland are you from?" Marie felt the need to ask.

"Galway. I worked in Dublin."

A dazed smile appeared on Harry's face. "My mother was from Galway." He released a sigh, the sympathy clearly noticeable. "Your too pretty."

"Watch, and listen." She spoke as she placed her belongings on the small wooden table. Emptying the buckets and clearing the pub she began to sing. Marie couldn't deny her voice was beautiful, however she couldn't find the strength to ignore the ill feeling rising within her as she watched the woman.

"I'd sing in Ireland. My singing made them cry and stopped them fighting."

"Well I hope you know a lot of songs." Harry prayed as he began to walk away.

Marie waltzed over towards the new barmaid and held out her hand. "I'm Marie. Marie Brown."

The woman's hand was frailty and caution, shaking gently as she reached for Marie's.

"Grace. Grace Burgess."

Little did Marie know she would regret ever making contact with the Irish barmaid...

Grace Burgess.