Upside Down Inside Out

by Monica McInerney

  Eva had only seen Lainey in full flight like this once before. In Ireland, eight years ago. She hadn’t liked it one bit then and she liked it even less now. She felt like Lainey had drained all her personality away. She’d hardly opened her mouth, yet Lainey was in top form, telling anecdotes about her early days in Australia, what it had been like when she first went back to Ireland, tales about Melbourne. And was Eva imagining it, or was Joe laughing at every single thing she said?

  Lainey leaned across the table again now. “So tell me, are you enjoying Australian food, Joe?”

  “I am, yes. There seem to be some great restaurants here.”

  Lainey gave a deep sigh. “Oh, there are, aren’t there? I have to say, nothing makes me happier than being in a kitchen or a restaurant. I worked in a deli for a while, it was heaven, all the wonderful tastes and smells.”

  Eva blinked. What was Lainey talking about? She’d never worked in a deli.

  Lainey turned toward her now. “I had all sorts of ideas to open a cafe or something too, didn’t I, Niamh?”

  Joseph glanced between the two of them again. “But you didn’t?

  Lainey gave an elegant shrug. “No. I guess I was just too scared that it wouldn’t work. So I didn’t even give it a try. And now I’ll never know for sure, I suppose, will I, Niamh?”

  Lainey was playing with her, Eva realized. She just glared back at her without answering.

  Joseph stood up. “Could I get you both another glass of wine?”

  Eva nearly toppled the table in her haste to stand up as well. “No, Joe, let me get it.”

  “Please, let me.”

  He was barely out of earshot when Eva turned on Lainey and hissed, “That’s enough, Lainey. Stop it.”

  Lainey smiled innocently. “Stop what?”

  “You know what. All that stuff about the deli. Everything you’re doing.” The flirting.

  “It’s just a joke, Evie. You’re not being you, so I thought I’d be you for you. That way you can see if Joe likes the real you, can’t you? He seemed quite interested in the idea of the cafe, don’t you think?”

  “It’s not funny, Lainey.”

  “What’s not funny?” It was Joseph with the glasses of wine.

  Lainey smiled up at him. “Niamh and I were just talking about the price of wine in restaurants these days, it’s just not funny how expensive it is. Thanks for getting these, aren’t you great?” She put her hand on his arm for a moment.

  That was it, Eva thought, rage overtaking her. Enough. More than enough. She felt like she was twenty-three years old all over again. Worse than that time, even. She stood up, her eyes flashing. “I do apologize if I’ve been in the way tonight. Have a lovely night together, won’t you?”

  She snatched up her bag and walked out of the restaurant.

  CHAPTER 32

  Eva walked three hundred meters before she stopped, overcome with embarrassment.

  What a stupid, childish thing to have done. And now what would she do? She certainly couldn’t go back in there, feeling like this. Disappointed with Joe and raging with Lainey.

  She started walking again, dodging the groups of people going in and out of the restaurants and bars all along the street. She felt sick. What could she do now? Go home? She didn’t want to. She didn’t think she ever wanted to see Lainey again.

  She’d gone another hundred meters when she heard her name being called. Her false name. She stopped and turned around.

  “Niamh, wait. Please.” It was Joe, walking quickly toward her.

  She stood, embarrassed and angry at once, waiting for him.

  He came up beside her, his face very serious. “Are you all right?”

  She felt her breathing quicken. What on earth could she say? No, Joe, I’m not. I thought something wonderful was happening between us and then you met Lainey and responded to her just like every other bloody man that ever meets her responds to her. And I can’t handle it and it makes me sick with jealousy and I couldn’t stay another minute and I know it was childish but she’s done it to me once before and I couldn’t watch her do it again. No, she couldn’t say that. She shook her head.

  “What did you mean you were in the way tonight?”

  “I can’t talk about it yet, Joe, I’m sorry.” She couldn’t. Her mind was too jumbled, filled with fury at Lainey, shame for her own behavior. She had been so happy. Things had been going so well. And then Lainey had arrived in the middle of it and ruined everything, just as she’d done before.

  His eyes searched hers. “Do you want to come back to the restaurant? Or do you want me to walk you home?”

  Go back there? Or go home? Lainey would be there either way, eventually. She shook her head. “No. I’m sorry, Joe. But I think I need to be on my own.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She nodded, fighting a sudden longing to go into his arms, to kiss him.

  “Can I ring you later? I’d like to know you’re all right.”

  His words nearly brought her to tears. But she had to get away. She nodded. “I’m sorry, Joe. Good night.”

  He watched her walk away for a moment, then he turned and went back to the restaurant.

  Eva walked steadily for ten minutes, her anger and distress keeping her moving, until she realized she’d passed all the restaurants and cafes. She was now in a much darker part of town and there were very few people around. She’d just begun to feel nervous when she recognized where she was. At the intersection of Lainey’s road, with the petrol station on one corner and the motel on the other.

  The motel. Before she could think too much about it, she’d opened the door and walked up to the reception desk. “A single room for tonight, please.”

  What on earth are you doing?

  What does it look like? Booking into a motel room.

  But what will Lainey think when you don’t come home? She’ll be worried sick.

  She won’t even notice I’m not there. She’s probably about to invite Joe back to her house. No point all that flirting going to waste, is there?

  Don’t be ridiculous. Of course she’ll be worried if she gets back and you’re not there.

  Good. She wanted Lainey to worry. Eva wanted Lainey to feel as bad as she was feeling now.

  But—

  I’m not listening to you, she said, as she passed over her credit card.

  In the restaurant Lainey sat at the table, not sure what would happen next. She’d been very impressed when Joe had stood up and gone after Eva. She felt a bit guilty about her behavior. She had been flirting a little bit, she knew that. Been a bit mean to Eva. And all right, a bit jealous of her too. In Melbourne for such a short time and finding this lovely man.

  She looked up as Joseph came back in again. “Is she all right?” she asked.

  He didn’t sit down, just took his coat from the back of the chair. “She’s gone home. To your apartment.”

  “Oh,” Lainey nodded. “She’s overtired, probably.”

  “Do you think so?”

  Lainey glanced up, unsure of his tone.

  “I think I’ll call it a night myself. And I’ll take care of the bill.”

  “No, Joe, you don’t have to do that.” Lainey started to stand up.

  “I insist,” he said.

  Five minutes later, they said good night in front of the restaurant and walked in separate directions.

  Less than a kilometer away, Eva lay on the motel bed in the darkness, watching the passing car lights flicker against the wall. She was still angry. Furious. About tonight and about eight years ago. She’d been wrong all along. It hadn’t gone away. It had just been lying in wait, like a dragon, waiting to be awoken.

  And tonight Lainey had woken it. By trying to do with Joe exactly what she had done with Martin eight years ago. Ruin things.

  Eva rolled over, as the memories rushed into her mind again. Martin had been her first boyfriend. She’d been just twenty-three years old, still living at home with her parents in Dunshaughlin, work
ing in the local newsagent. He was the first man she’d been in love with, the first man she’d ever had sex with. She and Martin had been together for five months, Eva in dreamland for most of it. Her friends had teased her about being lovestruck. She hadn’t minded any of it. She was the luckiest woman in Ireland, she thought. Her very first boyfriend, her very first lover, and he was the kindest and most gentle man in town. Perhaps he didn’t like talking about their future together as much as she did, but sure, weren’t all men like that? Everyone knew that it was women who did all the organizing, got things done in relationships. And there was plenty of time anyway. They were getting on just fine, weren’t they?

  Then Lainey had arrived back from Australia on holiday. She’d radiated sunshine and confidence, had been full to overflowing with funny stories about Australia, about her studies at business school. Martin hadn’t minded the two of them becoming the three of them, at the pub, on trips into Dublin. How could he mind, he said, with two gorgeous girls to go out with?

  Lainey had been a prize flirt back then too. She knew all the tricks. Looking up at him through her lashes. Touching him on the arm. Laughing at his jokes. At first, Eva had been confident enough in Martin to point it out. “Lainey Byrne, are you flirting with my boyfriend?”

  “Eva, such accusations.” Lainey had laughed. “I’m just practicing my womanly wiles. You don’t mind, Martin, do you?”

  “Ah no, practice away.”

  Then things started to change. Lainey and Martin seemed to have lots to talk to each other about. They’d stop when Eva came in. She started getting suspicious. Finally, she’d confronted Lainey. “Is something going on between you and Martin, Lainey?”

  “Of course not. He’s your boyfriend.”

  She seemed to be telling the truth. Eva relaxed again. But she couldn’t help noticing Martin was changing too. As though he was slowly shutting windows into himself that had once been wide open to Eva.

  Lainey went back to Australia. Then, one week later, Martin called around and told Eva he was leaving Dunshaughlin. Leaving Ireland. And therefore, it went without saying, leaving her. She had been too shocked to cry. “But why?”

  “I want more than this, Evie. More than living here for the rest of my life. I’m not ready to get married, have kids, buy a house, any of it.”

  “It’s Lainey, isn’t it? She’s put these ideas into your head. Is that where you’re going? To Australia? To her?”

  “No,” he’d said quickly. Too quickly? she’d wondered. “I’m going to England first. Maybe Australia later, I don’t know. I just know I want to go somewhere that’s not here.”

  After he’d left, Eva sank into misery. Several weeks later, her mother had snapped, “Eva, that’s enough. You have to lift yourself out of this. If it’s a broken heart, then I’m sorry, but you’ll have plenty more of those before you’re through with your life. If it’s more serious than that, we’ll make an appointment with the doctor and get you sorted out. Because I know one thing for sure and that is your father and I are tired of seeing you moping around day after day. You’re twenty-three years old, not ninety. It’s time you grabbed life again, do you hear me?”

  She’d come to her senses. In a fit of energy she’d turned her life upside down. She’d decided to move to Dublin, to apply to art school. If Martin was going to make something of his life, so was she. She’d pulled together all the work she’d done over the years, especially the dark, angst-ridden ones she’d painted since Martin had left. She’d survived a long, grueling interview with the head lecturer, who had umed and aahed over her work, before saying that, yes, there could be something there and, yes, she was in.

  Ambrose offered her a part-time job in the delicatessen. She decided to study part-time and work part-time, to be as self-sufficient as she could. She lived in a series of cramped apartments until her cousin moved to London and asked her if she wanted to rent his house in Stoneybatter. And all the while she’d ignored any letter and phone message she got from Lainey.

  Eva shifted position on the bed. She wondered sometimes if Lainey had even noticed that she’d stopped writing to her for nearly a year. They’d never talked about that either.

  You didn’t talk about that either? Well, how astonishing.

  She sat up on the bed, miserable, angry, disappointed. She’d come to Australia with such high hopes, seeing Lainey again, cementing their friendship, finding the time to think over Ambrose’s offer. But look at the mess she’d made of it all. Not only had she started living a false life, telling lies, but she’d let Lainey do it to her again.

  Do what to you again?

  Interfere. Take over. Just like she always has. When we were young. When she came over to Ireland. And tonight, with Joe.

  Well, why do you let her?

  You just do with Lainey. How can anyone fight that sort of personality? All that spark and energy she has.

  And what are you, a slug at the bottom of the sea?

  Compared to Lainey I am.

  Oh rubbish. You’re talking like a four-year-old. You’re thirty-one. Lainey hasn’t lived in Ireland since you were a teenager. You’ve hardly been in a coma since then, only wakening whenever Lainey’s around.

  No, but—

  You managed to get yourself through school, didn’t you? Get a job in the newsagent after school? Get into art school? Make the decision to go part-time? Work with Ambrose? Lainey hasn’t been there beside you weighing out olives and cutting cheese, has she? That’s been you smiling at customers, hasn’t it?

  Yes but—

  Are you still jealous of her, is that it?

  Jealous? I’m not jealous. Lainey’s my friend. You can’t be jealous of a friend.

  Of course you can. And this jealousy goes back years. Right back to Martin. Tonight had nothing to do with Joe and everything to do with Martin. You’ve never spoken to her about it, so it’s been locked away in a vault in your mind. Until Joe came along and accidentally unlocked it. And now he’s had to deal with the consequences.

  No, it’s not just about Martin. Lainey is trying to ruin things between me and Joe.

  How has she done that?

  By planting doubts in my mind about him. Telling me what I should and shouldn’t do with him.

  So? Tell her thanks for the advice but you’re happy to make up your own mind. Unless you’ve been programmed to only do what she tells you, is that it?

  What about tonight, then? The way she was behaving tonight? Talking and laughing and flirting. That’s exactly what she did with Martin when she came back to Ireland that time.

  Well, it’s just as well she was talking tonight, wasn’t it, with you sitting there like Lot’s wife, struck dumb. There wasn’t a peep out of you.

  I couldn’t get a word in, that’s why. She’s trying to take him away from me. Like she did with Martin.

  But you still don’t know if you and Martin broke up because of her. Because you’ve never asked Lainey what actually happened between them. You just assumed that’s what it was. Assumed that every conversation and every joke the pair of them had was Martin plotting to get away from you. And you still don’t know for sure because you’ve always been too scared to ask Lainey. Like you’re too scared to try and run the shop. Too scared to try and paint again. Too scared to tell Joe who you really are.

  Yes, all right, I am scared.

  So what is it exactly you’re scared of with Lainey? Why haven’t you asked her about it?

  I’m scared of finding out that Lainey had fancied Martin. That Martin and I broke up because of her. In case that’s the end of our friendship.

  You don’t want your friendship with Lainey to end?

  Of course I don’t.

  That’s why you haven’t asked her about this before now?

  Yes.

  So you’ve been happier to spend all these years nursing this hurt, feeding it and helping it to grow bigger and stronger, rather than learn the truth and face up to what actually might have happened?
r />   Which might have been what?

  Couldn’t Martin have been telling you the truth? That he just wasn’t ready to settle down? That he didn’t want to live in Dunshaughlin and get married? That he wanted to see the world? That hearing Lainey talk about Australia planted a seed in him, made him realize there really was a big world out there?

  Yes, I know that’s what he said—

  Well, doesn’t that all sound fairly reasonable? Where’s Martin now, anyway? In Africa, isn’t he? Still traveling? Sounds like that’s what he really wanted to do, doesn’t it? But rather than find out once and for all, ask Lainey if anything actually happened between them, you’ve tucked it away, let it grow right out of proportion. You’ve tried poor Lainey and found her guilty before she’s had a chance to defend herself.

  Poor Lainey? What’s poor about Lainey? She’s got everything going for her. Everyone loves her. People just flock to her. Everyone at school did. Martin did. Joe did tonight.

  What was Joe supposed to do? Ignore her? Only talk if you spoke to him? Only laugh at your jokes, not Lainey’s? You were out to dinner, the three of you. When people are out, they have conversations. That’s another name for people talking to each other. You reacted as though they’d been playing footsies under the table. Exchanging phone numbers. Kissing—

  But what about Lainey’s carry-on about the deli?

  Try and look at it from her point of view. She flies home from Brisbane to see her oldest friend, here all the way from Ireland, and walks into a love-fest in the middle of her living room. Not what she expected to see, I imagine. Don’t you think she might be feeling a little displaced herself?

  I don’t know how she feels.

  Well, why don’t you ask her? Start facing up to some of these things? Start having the courage to actually ask people if there’s something you need to know. More to the point, tell people the truth about how you feel? And how about starting now?