Some of these Greek men were pretty sexy too. Aileen could not understand how Laura could resist the advances of the delicious Costas. Costas actually reminded her a little of her lover. Mind, he was much younger than Liam, who was forty-five, more than double her age. That was part of the attraction too, she admitted to herself. That this suave, attractive sophisticated man could be interested in her really bolstered Aileen’s already very positive image of herself.
She met Liam Flynn in the office when he came to check out some data. He was an architect for the Corporation and architects were the people she had most dealings with, them and the planners. She had looked up one day to find this well-dressed man standing at her desk with a list of enquiries for which she had to supply data. He was the fifth architect she had dealt with that afternoon and all of them had given her the impression that theirs was the most urgent and important business and she wasn’t to dream of keeping them waiting for their information. What was it about some of them that made them so arrogant? Well, Aileen had had enough of them. She was in a foul humour anyway. The boss had the nerve to reprimand her for being late back after lunch – even though he never put in a full day’s work! She wouldn’t have been late except that some bastard had double-parked her. Fortunately, after she had fumed for twenty minutes, the driver in front of her returned and she was able to get her car out, but not before she had surreptitiously let the air out of the two nearside tyres of the car that was blocking her. Sitting at the traffic lights, she observed the owner of the double-parked car stroll unconcernedly towards it. He’d soon stop whistling, she thought smugly, as the lights went green and she left him looking down at his tyres, utterly dumbfounded.
‘If you could get me this information urgently, I’d be much obliged,’ the man in the expensive-looking camel-hair coat was saying pleasantly.
‘I’m sorry, you won’t have it until tomorrow,’ Aileen informed him ungraciously. ‘There were several other queries made ahead of you and I haven’t even started on them yet.’ Honestly, they were all the same, standing there puffed-up with their own self-importance. She wouldn’t mind but she had a suspicion that half the work some of them did was for their own thriving little sidelines. They might in theory work for the Corporation but there was a hell of a lot of private work done on company time, if office gossip was anything to go by. Aileen didn’t see why she should have to kill herself on their behalf while they got paid handsome fees as well as their salaries and she was paid a pittance.
‘It is terribly important,’ the man urged, smiling at her. He was good-looking in a mature sort of a way, Aileen conceded. Of average height, he was well built and had a handsome face with a nice straight nose. Aileen liked a good masculine nose and a well-shaped mouth. He passed the test on the mouth too. His eyes, which were a sort of bluey-grey, were long-lashed and were now crinkled up in a smile at her.
‘Couldn’t you put me at the top of the list just this once? Rita always looked after me very well,’ he added, referring to her predecessor.
Did she indeed! Aileen gave a mental sniff. Whatever chance he had of securing her co-operation he had just blown it by his reference to the perfect Rita.
‘I’m afraid, Mr—?’ She arched an eyebrow.
‘Flynn, Liam Flynn.’ The man lowered his gleaming leather briefcase to the floor and reached out and shook her hand.
‘I’m afraid that would be unfair to the others, who also have urgent work, or so they tell me. I’ll have the data delivered to you before lunch tomorrow,’ she told him firmly.
The architect raised an eyebrow at her tone. ‘Dear me,’ he said drily, ‘it must be terrible to be so busy. I won’t detain you from your work a minute longer.’
Aileen glowered at him. Sarcastic creep. Let him go and piss off. If he wasn’t careful he wouldn’t get his data until the following week!
Liam Flynn strode out of the office and banged the door behind him.
‘And good riddance to you too,’ she muttered, banging her typewriter keys with a vengeance. Just to annoy him, she didn’t send Kevin – the boy messenger, to give him his correct official title – to deliver the information required by the arrogant Mr Flynn until late the following afternoon.
Kevin informed Aileen with a smug smile that Liam Flynn had commiserated with him for having to work with someone who was not only grumpy but inefficient as well. Aileen was furious. How dare that man have the nerve to discuss her with a junior member of staff. How absolutely unprofessional!
‘Do you want a pair of boxing gloves?’ Kevin enquired cheekily. He liked Aileen, she was great gas, not like that dry old stick Rita, whose face would crack were she ever to risk a smile. He was currently teaching Aileen how to bet on the horses, one of his favourite occupations, although she hadn’t had much luck so far. Still, that would change – he had a great tip for a winner that very day.
‘Kevin, I am not in the humour for your juvenile wit,’ Aileen snapped. ‘There’s a manila envelope in the post-basket to be delivered to City Hall, some stuff to go to Housing and some to Dangerous Buildings. So get on your bike!’
‘Crosspatch! Just for that, I’m not giving you the name of a sure-fire winner,’ Kevin retorted as he gathered up the post.
‘Ha! That’s one favour you’ll be doing me,’ grimaced Aileen.
‘Should I call into His Nibs and see if he’s got anything more to go? Maybe I won’t,’ he reflected. ‘He’s probably making the phone call.’
Aileen’s eyes lit up. It was a well-known fact that Mr James Alden, her superior officer, rang his daughter in America once a week. Mrs Hardy, the cleaner, told Aileen he’d been doing it for the last five years, courtesy of the Corporation, but because the bills weren’t itemized he was never caught. Every Friday afternoon at three-fifteen precisely, Mr Alden phoned his daughter. It was now three-eighteen.
‘Go in! Go in and see if he hops!’ Aileen urged, her bad humour disappearing at the prospect of a bit of devilment.
‘You go!’ Kevin challenged her. ‘Go on. I dare you!’
Straightening her skirt and smoothing her hair, Aileen knocked lightly on the door and waltzed in without waiting for an answer.
‘He hopped about five feet and got all red in the face and practically bit the head off me when I asked him was there any more internal mail to go with you,’ Aileen chuckled heartily.
‘I’m going to bug that office one of these days,’ Kevin snorted. ‘Just think of what we’d get on tape.’
‘Excuse me.’ A voice intruded on their mirth. It was Liam Flynn. ‘I think there’s an error in your data.’ He handed Aileen a sheaf of papers.
‘What?’ Aileen snapped. ‘There couldn’t be.’
‘If you don’t mind, I’d like these facts re-checked. There is an error.’
‘Certainly. But if you don’t mind coming with me you will be able to see for yourself that the information is correct,’ Aileen said icily. How dare that superior being question her work! She was always meticulous at her job. She led the way downstairs to the room where the files were kept and pulled out the relevant drawer.
‘See for yourself!’ she said, thrusting the papers back at him.
‘Very well,’ he said shortly. Comparing the notes with those in the file he informed her calmly, ‘There’s an error here all right but it’s in the original file.’
‘Well, that’s not my fault. They were here long before I came. Maybe you should ask the obliging Rita about it some time.’ She was still smarting from his remarks to Kevin and couldn’t resist this jibe.
He smiled sardonically. ‘That might be a little difficult, considering she’s in Saudi Arabia.’
Smart-ass, thought Aileen angrily. ‘Excuse me, I’ve got to get back to work,’ she snapped.
‘Oh yes! I interrupted you and your young colleague,’ the architect drawled sarcastically.
Aileen had had just about enough. ‘Listen here, you!’ she exploded. ‘I’ll thank you to keep your smart remarks to yourself. An
d furthermore kindly do not discuss me with another member of the staff. I think your comments to Kevin were totally unprofessional! And unjustified,’ she added indignantly.
They glared at each other, and then Liam smiled and held out his hand.
‘You’re absolutely right,’ he said disarmingly. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Oh!’ Aileen was completely wrong-footed.
‘You’re not inefficient and . . .’ he paused, his eyes twinkling, ‘you’re not grumpy.’
He had a very attractive smile and she liked the way his eyes crinkled up at the corners. She decided that he definitely was rather dishy.
‘Apology accepted?’ he smiled.
Never one to hold a grudge and not usually so prickly, Aileen found herself smiling back. ‘You caught me on a bad day!’ she admitted. ‘I don’t usually go on like this.’
‘This place would put anyone in a bad humour,’ Liam smiled, indicating the dingy filing-room. ‘Don’t worry about it.’
‘At least it’s Friday and there’s only another hour to go,’ Aileen observed cheerfully, her good humour beginning to reassert itself.
‘Ah yes. Friday evenings! The perfect antidote to Corporation blues.’ Liam stood back to allow her to precede him upstairs. He was very mannerly, she noticed. He had gone down the stairs in front of her, as a gentleman always should. Good manners always impressed Aileen.
‘I don’t know your name,’ he smiled as they paused in the hallway.
She smiled back at him. ‘Aileen O’Shaughnessy.’
‘Well, until the next time, Aileen.’ He shook hands again. ‘Enjoy your weekend.’
‘You too,’ she replied, smiling again as she watched him leave. She had to admit he was a bit of all right, compared to some of the drips she had to deal with.
She looked forward to Liam’s visits from then on and when he casually suggested taking her to lunch one day she agreed. She really enjoyed it. Liam was a witty, entertaining man and his comments about some of his colleagues for whom she also worked made her laugh heartily.
He told her that he was married with two teenage children and that he lived in Bray in a house he had designed and built himself.
She had lunch with him several times and soon it became clear to both of them that a physical attraction was developing between them. At first it was just an accidental touch of a hand or a shared laugh that turned into a long smiling gaze. Both of them were ready for an affair. If it had not been Liam for Aileen and Aileen for Liam, it would have been someone else. Liam told Aileen that he felt his wife had lost interest in her marriage. She had put on weight, didn’t take much of an interest in her appearance any longer and was going through a difficult early menopause. He was trying to be supportive, he explained, but there were times he felt he was just a nuisance to his wife, and that all she wanted was to be left in peace to watch her soaps on TV and smoke herself to death.
‘Maybe she needs hormone treatment or something,’ Aileen suggested. Her mother had been going through the change for as long as Aileen could remember and she was making sure Judy and she knew all about it. She certainly empathized with poor Liam.
‘She’s been to doctors and they’ve all told her more or less to put up with it. Do you know something, Aileen? In a way I think she’s enjoying it. I think she’s glad of an excuse not to make an effort and just slide into middle age. Well, I don’t want to be middle-aged yet. I’ve worked hard to achieve what I’ve got, I want to enjoy it, not sit beside a fire every night with my slippers on, dozing in front of the TV.’
Aileen looked at his hard angry eyes and thought, Mrs Flynn, you’re not the only one going through a mid-life crisis!
Liam wanted to know about her life, about her boyfriends. ‘Tell me everything,’ he commanded. ‘I envy you your youth, I envy you with your life ahead of you. I feel I’m in such a rut. In twenty years’ time I’ll be collecting my pension and you won’t even be the age I am now.’
‘You’re much too young to think about pensions, you daft man!’ she smiled. ‘Forty-five is a sexy age. Look at Sean Connery, look at Kirk Douglas. I wouldn’t say no to them,’ she teased.
‘Would you say no to me?’ Liam stared at her and it was as if everybody else in the restaurant had frozen in time, all sound, all motion, suspended. There were only she and Liam staring at each other across the table. Aileen’s insides went a bit wobbly. This was the first time he had voiced what was in both their minds.
‘Well?’ he asked softly.
‘I don’t know.’ It was the only answer she could give him. All her flippant chat seemed to have disappeared and the effect those bluey-grey eyes were having on her was like something out of a romantic novel.
Liam smiled. ‘And I thought you knew everything,’ he chided good-humouredly, breaking the tension.
He had taken her to a small restaurant on the sea-front in Sandycove. It was her pay-day and she had an extra hour at lunchtime for cashing her cheque. But she never used that hour to cash her cheque – Cassie always did that for her, so she wouldn’t have to queue. Because she was in no rush back to work, they went strolling along the sea-front.
‘We’re going to have an affair, you know? You and I,’ Liam said seriously as they stood staring out at the waves surging into Scotsman’s Bay.
Aileen said nothing. She knew he was right.
In silence they walked back to the car. Polite as always, Liam opened her door for her before getting in himself.
He turned to her. ‘Are you angry with me?’
She stared at him, committing every line of his handsome face to memory. Reaching out in a spontaneous gesture, she touched the side of his jaw gently with her forefinger. ‘Of course I’m not angry.’ In fact she was deeply flattered that he was so attracted to her. Aileen had heard some of the typists from the other offices refer to Liam Flynn as ‘a fine thing’ and she heartily endorsed the recommendation. Turning his face, he pressed his mouth against the palm of her hand and she was almost electrified at the contact.
‘You’re beautiful,’ he muttered, and then he was kissing her, his tongue tasting hers as it explored the softness of her mouth, his hands entwined in the silkiness of her titian hair.
Breathless, she drew away from him. ‘Someone might see!’ she murmured.
‘Let them. I don’t care.’ His voice was not quite steady. ‘All I know is I want to make love to you. Take the afternoon off and we’ll go somewhere.’
She was so tempted to say yes, to let everyone go to hell and spend the afternoon making passionate love to this gorgeous sexy man who wanted her as much as she wanted him. Mundane little matters made their presence felt. First of all he was married! That should be a no-no. But she knew now it wasn’t going to make a difference. Doing a swift mental calculation she knew that she was still a day or two on the dangerous side of her cycle. The first thing she was going to do was go to the Family Planning Clinic and go on the pill. As well as which, if she took the afternoon off, her car would be locked in the car park for the week-end. Besides, she was not exactly dressed for seduction. Today’s lunch had not been planned. She knew that she had a hole in the crotch of her tights. Those one-size things were a disaster! And her bra, which had once been snow-white, had turned a pale shade of pink as a result of a clash with a red sweatshirt in the washing-machine. She hadn’t shaved her legs either. Not that it would make any difference with the state Liam was in – she could be as hairy as a mountain gorilla and he wouldn’t notice, so anxious was he to make love to her. But nevertheless . . . she would prefer for the first time to have all her little jobs done and be wearing something a little sexier than holed tights and a pale pink bra! It would make her feel better and more desirable.
‘I can’t, Liam. Take me back to work,’ she said firmly. He reluctantly did as he was bid.
She spent the entire weekend fantasizing about him, so the following Wednesday when he arrived downstairs to where she was filing her loathed pink forms, she practically fell into his arm
s. They kissed hungrily in the dusty dim room, touching and caressing each other in a frenzy of desire.
‘I want you now,’ he muttered hoarsely. ‘I want to make love to you standing, sitting, kneeling, lying. I thought about it the whole weekend. It’s all I can think about. Aileen, you’re driving me crazy. If I don’t get rid of this,’ he pressed hard against her, ‘I’m going to explode.’ Leaning against a filing cabinet with his body thrusting against her, Aileen thought she was going to explode herself. Unbuckling his trouser-belt she arched her leg around his hip and drew him to her. Today she was wearing ivory French knickers and a matching camisole top and silk stockings and suspenders. Like the boy scouts, she had come prepared!
It was the most satisfying lovemaking of Aileen’s entire life. Hungry for each other, they writhed wildly between the filing cabinets in the windowless basement that was the filing-room. Moaning and groaning, panting with desire, Aileen couldn’t have cared less if the City Manager himself had stood in the doorway watching them. Not that there was much likelihood of that. No-one ever ventured into the filing-room of their own free will. Aileen was the only person who had to work there. She doubted if her boss even knew how to find the place.
‘That was something else!’ Liam gave her a great bearhug as their breathing returned to normal and they stood clinging to each other. ‘Come on. We’re getting out of here. You go and say you’re taking the day off sick or something and follow me out to the Killiney Court Hotel.’
Aileen stared at him. ‘Now?’
‘Now!’ he ordered, laughing.
He could have told her to follow him to the moon and she would have gone. She had just sampled paradise and she wanted more.
They parted at the top of the stairs, he to get his car in the car-park, she to visit the ladies’ room. Down the hall in the kitchen she could hear Mrs Hardy and Kevin arguing the toss about how much he was behind in his kitty payments. Mr Alden would be down for his elevenses soon and she wanted to be gone by then. She caught sight of herself in the mirror. Her hair was tumbling over her shoulders in glorious disarray; Liam had buried his face in it to stifle his groans. Her eyes were sparkling with pleasure, cheeks flushed with passion. The healthiest-looking specimen she had ever seen! Tidying herself up and composing herself as best she could, she marched down the hall to Mr Alden’s office and knocked on the door. Her boss was sitting shuffling papers around the desk, listening to Gay Byrne on his little transistor. Of course, she wasn’t allowed to have a radio in her office!
Finishing Touches Page 21
