‘I’m done in,’ Quinn had said, and Aisling had told him they’d have to practice every day if they wanted the routine down pat for the wedding. Quinn had muttered something she thought might have been for fecks sake but she couldn’t be sure. She’d let it slide given his hang over.
‘There we are, all done,’ Moira said to her now, holding her green hands up. ‘I’ll go and wash these. That mask might feel a little tight and tingly but it’s nothing to worry about, alright?’ Aisling was about to open her mouth and reply but Moira held her green hand up once more, ‘Don’t speak, let it harden and do its thing.’
It was a chance to reflect on the day, Aisling thought, leaning her head back on the sofa as she mulled things over. The guesthouse had been busy with a group checking out first thing that morning in order to begin their tour around the Irish countryside. Bronagh, thankfully, was running on full throttle once more. The week had gotten off to a slow start for them after their big night out but Bronagh had been particularly pasty-faced on Monday morning. She’d told Moira she could forget it if she had any plans on making her do the stairs and also, she’d better not be thinking about getting married any time soon because she was not able for another hen night. Ita too had been very quiet and Aisling suspected from the length of time it took her to make up Room 3 she might have been having a sly forty winks in there.
She’d let it all waft over her head. It wasn’t an everyday occurrence, well at least she didn’t think it was. She couldn’t be sure when it came to Ita and sure, they’d all had a grand night out together. The mask tightened and her skin began to feel hot beneath it and more than a little tingly. ‘Moira,’ she called out, feeling it crack around her mouth. ‘I’m going to wash this off, it’s burning.’
Moira appeared in the doorway. ‘It says on the tube you’re to leave it on for twenty minutes, it’s only been ten.’
‘Don’t care.’ Aisling pushed past her sister to the bathroom and splashed tepid water over her face before getting the nearest flannel and rubbing the stuff off.
‘Moira!’ she bellowed, looking in the mirror and seeing her face was a blotchy red mass as though she’d gotten the sunburn. ‘Get in here now.’
Moira peered around the bathroom door and winced seeing her sister. ‘Jaysus, Aisling, you look a fright. You don’t want to be going downstairs with your face like that, you’ll frighten the guests so you will.’
‘Fix it. This is your fault.’ Her voice was low and steely and Moira could tell she meant business.
‘Listen, you rinse the conditioner out of your hair in case we have to go to the emergency doctors, you don’t want to be sitting about in the waiting room with the cling film on your head.’
‘Moira!’
‘I’ll ring Mammy, see what she says.’ Moira scarpered. Aisling ran the shower and while she waited for the water to heat, she peered into the mirror. This was not good, her face felt hot and itchy. The last thing she needed was an allergic reaction. She stripped off and got in the shower rinsing off the thick conditioner.
She hoped her skin might have settled down once she got out of the shower but no, if anything the steamy water had made it worse. She got dressed and went in search of Moira.
‘Well?’
‘Mammy says you’re to use the E45 cream.’
Moira held out a tube of their mammy’s go-to fix it all cream she’d found tucked away in the first aid kit and Aisling slathered it on. It did feel better.
An hour later when her hair had dried and she was sitting in front of the tele with a greasy layer of E45 all over her face, Moira said, ‘At least your hair looks good. If you did a mammy and swished it about you could be on a shampoo commercial. So long as they only filmed you from the back.’
Aisling glared at her.
Her phone beeped a message before she could give her sister a mouthful and she saw it was from Quinn. A frown embedded itself between her eyebrows as she read the message.
‘What is it?’
‘It’s Quinn. He’s after finding a house he wants us to go and look at tomorrow.’ There was an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach at the thought of it.
‘You’re not moving out of here! I promise I’ll stop pinching your shoes and I’m sorry I used the cheap, green shite on your face.’ Moira was aghast at the thought of having to do the housework about the place or cooking her own meals.
‘You’ve promised me that before and you always break your word.’ Aisling rubbed her temples; her head was hurting. ‘But don’t worry I’m not going anywhere. The house thing is an investment. He’s got a bee in his bonnet that we need to get on the property ladder and rent out whatever we buy as a nest egg. Why he can’t wait until after the wedding I don’t know but he says here,’ she waved her phone, ‘it’s too good not to go and take a look.’ A thought occurred to her. ‘What if my face hasn’t settled down by tomorrow?’
‘Well, it might work in your favour, Ash. The estate agent might tell the people selling about your poor, red, spotty face and they might feel so sorry for you they lower the price.’ Her mouth twitched.
‘That is so not funny.’
Chapter 25
The house was terraced, red brick, and on the Crumlin Road. Aisling felt a surge of pride as Quinn managed with lots of turning of the steering wheel to manoeuvre his car between two others. The parallel park was not something she’d mastered. Driving was something she’d not mastered all that well for that matter. She could get from A to B so long as the vehicle was an automatic and no complicated parking issues arose but if someone else was happy to drive, then Aisling was happy to let them. If it had been down to her she thought as he pulled the handbrake up, she would have kept driving and they’d have wound up walking miles to their appointment. All thoughts of her masterful-parker fiancé dissipated as she spied the For Sale sign outside a dilapidated house with a sinking heart. She didn’t know what she’d been expecting but it was identical to all the other houses on the street. The only thing setting it apart from its neighbours was its air of having been let go.
‘It looks neglected,’ she said, peering out the windscreen adding an, ‘unloved,’ for good measure. Quinn had filled her in on the way over; the reason the house was going for a song was because it was an inheritance and the family wanted a quick sale. It explained why it looked unlived in but it didn’t make it any more appealing.
‘The garden needs a tidy up that’s all, and you haven’t even seen inside yet, Ash.’ He took the keys from the ignition and turned in his seat to look at her. He looked away quickly for fear she’d think he was staring at the lumps that had appeared on her face since the last time he’d seen her. Hives she’d said, due to a dodgy facial Moira had given her. He thought it as likely it was a reaction to all the stress she was heaping upon herself with the wedding. There was no point saying anything though.
Aisling could feel the heels of her shoes digging into the mat on the floor of the passenger seat and her hands were clasped tightly, resting on her black pencil skirt. She’d dressed up for the occasion in the hope of moving the focus from her face. The fact she’d power dressed though had done nothing to change her mind where this house buying business was concerned and she’d be quite happy if Quinn were to manoeuvre his way back out of the parking space. She’d give the suited-up man with the slicked back hair who was tapping his foot beside the gate, a cheery wave goodbye as they sailed past him. In fact, what she’d like, more than anything, was for them to go and get a cup of coffee and talk like they hadn’t talked in ages. She wanted reassurance he was excited about their nuptials because she felt like he’d switched off.
‘And he’s definitely got the look of a fecky brown noser,’ she muttered, turning her attention back to the waiting agent.
‘What was that?’ Quinn asked, opening his door.
‘Nothing.’
‘Come on then and keep an open mind. Remember it needs to be low maintenance and functional, that’s all. It’s not your dream home, it�
�s a potential rental property.’
‘Yes, yes, I will.’ She was already picturing patches of damp, and mouse poo, and all manner of unsavoury things given the neglected air of the garden.
Quinn glanced back at her dubiously. ‘If we can get it for the right price, the rent should cover the loan and outgoings. It comes down to the maths not emotions.’
‘I know that.’ Aisling was huffy. It seemed to her he’d already made his mind up about buying the place and he sounded a little condescending. She wasn’t an airhead. All she wanted was her wedding to be her perfect day without major life distractions like house buying getting in the way. She didn’t want them starting their married life by being saddled with a money-pit of a house they had no plans of living in either. Nevertheless, she got out of the car and waited for Quinn to lock it before walking the short distance to the estate agent, who stepped forward with his hand outstretched to greet them. He was all smiles, although Aisling fancied his full wattage beam had faltered as she got closer.
The E45 cream had helped soothe the itching but the spots were still visible and she’d made Moira run down to Boots as soon as it opened to buy a packet of antihistamines out of her own pocket. She’d taken one as soon as her sister returned and hoped the hives would soon begin to fade. For now, though, at least her hair was shining gloriously and she lurked alongside Quinn observing the vigorous handshaking and much fecky brown nosing on the agent’s part. His name he revealed before opening the gate, its rusty hinge squeaking in protest, was Niall. Holding it open he ushered them in and Aisling trailed behind Quinn, her heel finding its way into a crack in the pavers which nearly sent her arse about face.
‘Watch your step,’ Niall said pointlessly. ‘The path and front garden needs a little TLC but it’s all easily fixed and the house has good bones.’
With a glance to either side she could see the poky front garden was in desperate need of a tidy up. What had once grown there, maybe even flourished, had now withered and needed to be cut back. She couldn’t stop her nose curling even though she knew it made her look a spoiled brat. She also wished Quinn didn’t have such a spring in his step. He looked like a child about to enter a sweet shop and his new best friend Niall’s eyes were gleaming no doubt at the thought of the hefty commission soon to be coming his way if he played this the right way. He produced a bunch of keys and stepping past them unlocked the front door opening it wide.
‘Come in, come in,’ he welcomed with a sweep of his hand.
Aisling took a deep breath and stepped over the threshold, scanning the hallway she found herself in with a critical eye. It was narrow and dark with a threadbare red carpet adding to the gloom. You’d struggle to swing a cat in it she thought as Niall announced he’d let them have a look around on their own. It was all self-explanatory he said and when they were finished, they’d find him in the kitchen. She watched him stride down the hall, counting his steps. Four strides and he was there. It was hardly a house you’d get lost in.
Quinn was opening a cupboard in the hallway and hearing him make noises about how it was good to have extra storage space, she left him to inspect it, poking her head around the front room. Through the yellowing net curtains, she could see the outline of the garden they’d walked past and in the same red carpet as she’d seen in the hall, she could see the indents of where the furniture had been placed. The wallpaper was peeling in places and the room smelt musty. A layer of dust was visible over the fireplace mantle.
She didn’t want to look around any further because she already knew the kitchen where Niall was waiting was at the end of the hall. It would have an oven with decades of food etched around the element rings. A washing line that spun around would be visible from the back window and the back garden would be bleaker than the front entrance. Upstairs there would be a bathroom with pipes that would gurgle and moan when the hot water tap was turned and the bedrooms would be boxy. It was exactly what she’d expected. Quinn had joined her in the room and must have sensed she was less than impressed as he nudged her and said, ‘Use your imagination, Ash, a lick of paint, new curtains and carpet, some elbow grease and sure, it will be grand.’
They made their way to the back of the house to check out the kitchen before heading upstairs. Niall was there as he’d said he’d be. He was leaning against the sink but spying his potential purchasers sprang into action, gesturing to the cupboards and pantry. Quinn was all ears as the agent launched into a spiel. ‘Retro’s all the rage, although of course, for the discerning investor there’s plenty of scope for improvement.’ He leaned toward them conspiratorially. ‘Quinn, Aisling, between me and you, this area’s rapidly becoming sought after, and properties are tightly held. It’s a good time to buy.’
Quinn nodded and opened a drawer. He gave it an extra tug as it got stuck halfway nearly pulling the whole thing out. Aisling eyed the oven, noticing the splashes of grease on the wall behind it. She fancied she could smell bacon fat and not in a tempting Mrs Flaherty way either. She pondered over opening the back door to get some fresh air but decided against it. The sooner they completed their tour of the house the sooner she’d be out of here. Instead she contented herself with looking out the window to where a spindly tree waved its boughs in the wind and a washing line spun round in a maniacal pirouette. The fence surrounding the nondescript garden was buckled in places. Quinn nudged her. ‘Are you ready to take a look upstairs.’
She nodded and followed him from the room, refusing to look at Niall for fear of setting him off on more sales patter. Quinn skipped up the stairs and she bunny-hopped up them after him, her skirt making it impossible to do anything else, wondering if the musty smell permeating downstairs would be worse up there. Quinn wandered in and out of the first two bedrooms while she gave them a cursory glance over. The bathroom made her shudder but if she were honest, she could see all it needed was a good scrub. The shower head was over the bath and the plastic curtain had a mouldy edge to it. It was a set-up that brought to mind the verruca she’d gotten one year at the public baths. She couldn’t muster up enthusiasm to match Quinn’s as he turned the handle on the shower and announced the pressure was good. She let him lead her through to the smallest of the three bedrooms not listening to his prattle that it was big enough for a small double. He was already wording the advert to rent the house in his head, she realised, seeing his face was lit up with an excitement she hadn’t once seen in the march toward their wedding.
‘Ash,’ he said, opening the wardrobe door and poking his head inside it.
‘Yes.’ He was taking leaving no door unopened to a new level. A wardrobe was a wardrobe for fecks sake and she played out a scenario where she pushed him inside it and shut the door.
He popped back out and the sight of his eager face sent guilt pinpricking through her. He only wanted the best for them. It wasn’t very nice of her to be plotting to shove him inside a cupboard. He couldn’t read her mind though and carried on excitedly, ‘I think we should go for it. Subject to a building inspection obviously but I can’t see how we can go wrong.’
She could see he wanted her to agree with him. To share in his enthusiasm but she couldn’t. What he was saying about financial security and investments for the future all made sense but she had a bad feeling. ‘I’m not trying to burst your bubble, Quinn, but I have a lot on my plate at the moment with the wedding.’ She shook her head, ‘I’m struggling to find room to think about anything else.’
‘I know that, Ash. But if we don’t act now, we’ll miss out. Who knows when a buy like this will come up again?’
Quinn didn’t often dig his heels in. He was the sort of fella who went with the flow but he wanted this property, she could see it in the determined set of his jaw. She wanted to react the way he wanted her to, she did. He deserved it. Sure, look at the way he’d agreed to their honeymoon at the Ice Hotel. Marriage was about compromise and this was her moment to capitulate and agree, yes this would indeed be a good investment for them. He placed his hands on eith
er side of the tops of her arms his blue eyes boring into hers, willing her to agree.
‘It doesn’t have to be hard, Ash. We can arrange to take possession after our honeymoon. It’ll be one visit to the bank, there’ll be a few papers to be signed with a solicitor, that’s all. I’ll arrange the building inspection but I think we should move on this. It’s a smart move. We’ll regret it if we procrastinate.’ She barely heard him as he told her the figure he’d like to offer. She trusted him to have worked it all out but still the words he wanted to hear wouldn’t come. She managed another nod, wanting to make him happy. There was a part of her that loved the way he was thinking ahead for them and for, hopefully, one day in the not too distant future, their children. He pulled her to him and she enjoyed the feeling of security being in his arms always gave her. ‘Do I take that as a yes, let’s go for it?’
‘Yes.’
Her reward was a kiss and she returned it, glad he was pleased and wishing she could get rid of the sense of unease that had assailed her since she received his text the night before. He held her hand tightly as they headed back down the stairs to find Niall. He looked up from his phone as they appeared in the kitchen once more.
‘Well, what did you think?’
‘We can definitely see the potential,’ Quinn countered.
The Guesthouse on the Green Series Box Set 2 Page 37
