LUCKED (Love and Liquor Book 2)

by Angel Devlin

  She passed it back to me slowly. I snatched it and pressed on his profile and then onto photos.

  It was him.

  The one I clearly remembered kissing.

  Most of that night prior to Chris’ accidental phone call might have been a blank, but my body had remembered the kiss. And he wanted to be my Facebook friend. Why?

  The deed was done. He was accepted. I wouldn’t be doing anything further from my side of things. I had enough man trouble as it was. However, the fact he was now one of my Facebook friends, tenuously connected to me, gave me a strange thrill.

  “You can make this up to me by fetching that wine.”

  We drank wine, and we did pop out for a meal. Then we came back, packed our stuff and chatted until the early hours where we tried and failed to fall asleep amongst the cacophony of the beeping horns and revellers’ shouts.

  The next morning we all went down for breakfast and then it was time to make our way back to the airport to catch the plane to Manchester followed by a train back to Sheffield. Then I’d have to face the music, or bellend as I now referred to my ex. I switched my phone off aeroplane mode when we got to Manchester to see five messages from him. Drunk texts with apologies and him begging for forgiveness. I deleted them all and as the notifications moved up my screen, I saw I had a Facebook message from Cillian McCarthy.

  I pressed open.

  Your friend told me what happened. Don’t forgive a guy who could cheat on you. You are worth more. I know that, and I only met you for a few minutes before you ran off to throw up.

  Don’t worry, I won’t message again. I’m sure you have enough to deal with right now. But I’m here and a new friend if you need one. Someone who can be a shoulder to cry on if required, albeit from Dublin.

  It was a pleasure to meet you.

  C.

  “What are you smiling at? Bloody hell, it’s nice to see one of those on your face, lass.” Lesley tried to look at my phone. “I’m just glad I’m going home, that’s all, even if it is to face the bellend. I want my own bed and a night of quiet - no car horns allowed. Now let’s get that train and get home.”

  As the cab pulled up outside my house, the curtains twitched. I should have known he’d be there waiting for me. I’d bet my month’s salary that he’d not moved a single thing out of our home, thinking he could talk me around. The more I thought about it, there had been various suspicious behaviours over the years and I’d always believed his excuses. I moved as fast as I could to the front door as it was pissing it down with rain and hoped dickhead didn’t think I was rushing to see him. Now as I saw his sheepish face in the doorway as he let me into the house, it was like the blinkers had fallen off and I saw my ex-fiance in all his lying glory.

  “Anna. I can explain.”

  I stood in the hallway, coat on and luggage at my feet. “Do you think you could give me a fucking chance to get in the house? This shows what a selfish bastard you are. I’m not even through the door. You could have taken my case and helped a bit, but no, you just stand there like the knob you are trying to talk me around. I’m going upstairs to change and unpack and I’ll talk to you when I’m good and fucking ready. Now make yourself useful and put the kettle on. I’m dying for a cuppa.”

  “Oh, of course, darlin’. You’re right. I’m just so desperate to sort things out between us, but yes, you go get unpacked and settled. I’ll make you a drink and then when you’re ready, we can talk.”

  As I unpacked my belongings, he walked in with a hot cuppa. He placed it on the top of the chest of drawers at the side of me and had the audacity to lean over to kiss me. I moved my face away.

  “I missed you while you were gone.” He said.

  I waited until he’d left the room and that was it. The straw that broke the camels back. He’d missed me? At which point? When his cock was in Tania’s hoo-ha had he missed the warmth of mine?

  Unfastening the front window and pushing it wide open I went to Chris’ wardrobe and gathered armfuls of clothing. Then I threw his clothes outside, watching them land on the soggy front lawn. I thanked God for the despicable weather. With every single clothing item of his gone from the room, including his pants and socks, I stormed downstairs with my empty cup in my hand.

  As he came towards me and opened his mouth, I threw it at him. It hit him in the forehead before bouncing onto the carpet, thankfully unbroken as it was a favourite cup. Plus, now it had caused him an injury I loved it even more. He clutched his forehead and followed me into the kitchen where I reached into my odds and sods drawer and took out a roll of black sacks.

  “Your clothes are all in the front garden. Hopefully they’ve blown away or someone’s stolen them, but you might want to bag them up otherwise and put them in your car. If they’re brought back in here, I’m having a bonfire.”

  “Anna, be reasonable.”

  I stood, hands on hips, and narrowed my gaze on him.

  “Be reasonable? Let’s hear it then. What’s your excuse for what happened?”

  He bowed his head in his ‘shame’ pose and looked up through his pale blonde fringe. “Babe, I should have known, but Tania’s had a crush on me for ages. I’m a bloke though. I genuinely thought she was just a mate. Don’t forget as well that I was pissed cos it was my stag do. Don’t remember much, just waking up and thinking me and you were doing it. Then I saw it was Tania, and I chucked her off me and out of the house. Told her I never wanted to see her again.”

  My mouth dropped open, and I held out both my hands palms up. “Are you for fucking real? I heard it all. You butt-dialled me. My God, you can’t even say it was a mistake and you’re sorry. You’re blaming Tania. Do you know what, Chris? I don’t blame Tania. She’s single. You weren’t. No matter how much she came onto you, you still had a choice to say no. But you didn’t. You shagged her, and then I heard you bin her off like she was a piece of shit. Well, darlin’” I said the word as sarcastically as I could muster. “I hope she realises she can do better than you. I know I can. Now get the fuck out of my house, and if you don’t I’m ringing my dad.”

  Chris’ face paled. My dad was an ex-bouncer, who now worked as a bailiff. “You’re making a mistake ending us. Six years down the pan. You won’t ever find another me, you know.”

  “Thank fuck for that.” I yelled, and I threw the thick roll of bin liners at him, scoring another direct hit, this time right in his filthy mouth.

  When he’d gone, I looked around and realised that I needed a do-over. I needed to clean this house within an inch of its life. I had no idea where the energy came from but I cleaned that house with bleach and other cleaning products from top-to-bottom, throwing anything of Chris’ into the spare room for him to collect some other time. Then I dragged off all the bedding and threw that and the mattress into the back garden. It was time for a bonfire. I’d order a new mattress this afternoon. For now, I’d sleep on the sofa. I doubted I’d get much sleep tonight anyway.

  Thoroughly exhausted, I flopped onto said sofa where it all hit me at once: exhaustion, sorrow, anger. I spent the rest of the day and evening going between crying my eyes out, throwing things, and dozing. I answered concerned texts from my friends. Jenny said Kian didn’t agree with cheats and he’d vowed never to see Chris again. Apparently Chris had borrowed money off him several times and not paid him back so he was glad to be ‘shut of the sponger’. She said he’d only stayed mates with him because of our friendship.

  Lesley sent a text and said she was ready to meet me if I wanted to get drunk.

  I lay on the sofa and stared at the ceiling, wondering how I would tell my family and how devastating it would be cancelling everything and losing all those deposits. How had my life crashed and burned so damn fast?

  Deja Foo

  Anna

  Bless them. Jenny and Kian, then Lesley and Susan, had come in on my evening shift the following day to make sure the first one post-breakup went okay. Dan, the pub landlord and my boss, had been extra fussy, telling me I could go
out back if needed. He’d had a traumatic divorce, so he knew how devastating the ending of a relationship was.

  I felt loved and supported. In fact, all was well. Yes, my eyes were a little red and puffy and had required extra make-up for me to look half-human. I blamed a cold to any customers who enquired. My new mattress had arrived, I’d nipped to the local supermarket for some bedding, and every trace of Chris was shut away in the spare room. I was rid.

  Well, I was until he walked in, holding hands with Tania.

  “The brass fucking cheek of him.” Rachel yelled. “Shall I refuse to serve him, Dan?”

  Dan shook his head. “You can’t. He’s a patron. I know what he did to Anna was wrong, but he’s not stepped out of line here… yet.” Dan said ominously. “Do you want to go out back?” He asked me.

  I shook my head and stood up straight. “No. I’m not moving. This is where I work.” I approached them. “What can I get you?” I turned to Tania. “Would you like my liver or a kidney next, seeing as you seem to be taking my things?”

  She pulled Chris closer to her. “I’m sorry, Anna. That’s why I wanted to come in. I love him. I always have. And he loves me. We tried to resist but our love is too strong.”

  “You do realise that yesterday he was begging me to take him back, right?”

  You could have heard a customer take a drink of their pint, the pub had gone that quiet, as they took in the evening’s entertainment.

  “Oh Anna. I know that’s not true, and it was the other way around. We’ve come to show you that you need to accept the situation. We’re together now, and well, we’re getting married.”

  My jaw dropped open.

  “If it’s okay with you, we’ll buy you out of everything arranged so far. My mum and dad have a wedding fund for me so it’s no problem, and we’ll get married when you would have.”

  I tilted my head nearer towards her as I was sure I was hearing things. “You want my wedding?”

  “Yes, well everything apart from the dress. I’m only a size eight.”

  There were audible gasps from some of the customers.

  “Yes. Agreed.” I said, reaching over and shaking her hand. I’d be rid and my parents would have their money back. I’d only be down the price of a dress and I could sell that locally. If she wanted to embarrass herself having my wedding and hitch herself to the loser standing in front of me she could have at it.

  I tapped a finger across my lips. “Oh, actually. I have one condition to our agreement.”

  “Oh, what’s that?” She replied. I noted that Chris had stood at her side like the dummy he was and had yet to speak.

  “You never step a foot in this pub again, either of you. Because if you do, I will lose my job.”

  Tania’s brow creased. “I don’t follow.”

  “I’ll punch your lights out if you come in again. Now fuck off.” I told them.

  Tania knew when she was shit out of luck.

  “Come on, Chris. Let’s go.”

  I watched as he followed her out of the pub like a dog following its master.

  Lesley applauded and the rest of the pub followed suit. I must have gone beet red as my face felt like it would combust with the heat. “Atta girl. You did so well there.”

  “You really did.” Rachel added. “You are so fucking better off without that knobhead. God, how can she just step into another woman’s wedding like that? All that’s different is the pussy. It’s a case of deja foo.”

  I nodded and tried to smile, but I was struggling to hold it together as the reality hit that my wedding really was off, my relationship over, and my fiance was about to marry someone else.

  “Do you know, I think I will go work out back for a bit.” I told Dan.

  As expected my parents hit the roof, with my dad threatening to kneecap Chris. Once they’d calmed down, I asked my mum to liaise with Chris’ to get everything transferred and our money back. My mum talked to the woman at the dress agency and it was agreed that we would just lose the deposit as it was a popular style and she felt it would resell easily.

  With everything finally finished and Chris completely removed from my life, I threw myself into painting and decorating my home the way I wanted it to look, and working. I found evenings at home unusually quiet though. Lesley kept asking me to meet her for drinks but I wasn’t a big social creature and I wanted to get used to my own space.

  Which is how I found myself one night having drunk the best part of a bottle of wine on my own, lying feet up on the sofa, with two cushions behind my back, my laptop on my knees and Facebook open.

  I clicked into Cillian’s page to see what he’d been up to. Something I’d been doing ever since I got home. He updated it rarely and there was nothing new there.

  I opened his message and re-read it. Then I thought fuck it and started typing my own.

  Hi Cillian.

  What have you been up to lately? I cancelled my wedding and have been redecorating my home.

  I wish my trip to Dublin had been more enjoyable, but I still remember your friendly face.

  Thanks for the friend request and sorry it’s taken me so long to respond.

  Sod it.

  SEND.

  I put my laptop on the floor and enjoyed the last of the bottle of wine before settling back on the sofa and closing my eyes. When I woke a while later, drool running down the side of my mouth, I decided it was time to make my way up to bed. As I lifted the laptop off the floor to close it down, I saw I’d had a reply.

  Anna!

  So good to hear from you.

  Sorry about what happened to you.

  How are you feeling?

  Glad you remember my ‘friendly face’.

  Do you remember anything else ;)

  Oh fuck. I thought. Perhaps I’d better re-read the message in the morning when I was more sober and more awake. I closed the laptop and went to bed.

  The morning after

  Cillian

  I couldn’t believe she messaged me back! I’d honestly thought me cyber stalking her was as far as it would ever go and to be honest her Facebook page was the most boring page ever. All she did was talk about books, of which she’d read loads since she ended it with that shitehawk. I worried a bit when I sent my message back that night and there was no reply, but I needn’t have. It was the start of a series of long messages with the woman of my dreams (and fantasies, but let’s not go there right now).

  Anna: Hope you don’t mind me messaging you again. I must apologise, I only ever seem to converse with you when I’m bladdered. Yes, I do remember that night and now I’m sober and blushing!

  Cillian: Don’t blush. Anyway, how are you? Do you fancy having an Irish Facebook pen-friend?

  Anna: Sounds good. I’m okay. Do you know my ex-fiance bought me out of my half of the wedding and is now marrying his female best friend on our wedding day? I’m well rid of that one.

  Cillian: Are you fecking kidding me? Shall I get on a plane and come kill him for you?

  Anna: No. I’m glad he’s out of my life. I’ve rediscovered my love of books.

  Cillian: I’d noticed. All your posts are about them!

  Anna: Well Chris, my ex, used to talk all the time when I was trying to read. It’s nice to have the peace, and it’s good to escape into fictional worlds if I’m finding things a bit tough.

  Cillian: Understandable. So tell me more about yourself. Family. Where you work, etc. Fave colour lol.

  Anna: Okay. 28-year-old jilted bride. I work behind the bar at a local pub. Rent a house which I’ve been decorating to my own taste. Love reading, like to switch up between thrillers and romantic comedies. At the moment reading lots of books where people are brutally murdered, can’t think why ;)

  My dad is a Bailiff, my mum a secretary, and I have an older brother and sister who are both married with their own families. My favourite colour is … drum roll … red!

  Your turn!

  Cillian: 29-year-old lazy fecker. Still live with my par
ents. My ma says she wants me to get settled down and feck off as soon as possible, like yesterday. I’m a tour guide. I don’t read. I do like listening to music, mainly rock. Keen photographer and often take myself off around Dublin to snap the main sights and the less well known ones.

  My ma is a housewife, my da works in I.T. I also have two older siblings. Mine are both sisters, again with their own families. They babied me and that’s why I’ve probably not completely grown up yet.

  I don’t have a favourite colour, that’s girly shite!

  Anna: It is not girly to have a favourite colour. I bet if I looked in your wardrobe I’d discover you had a preference for one over another!

  Also I think you should challenge yourself and get your own place. Just think, you could display your photographs and play your music to your hearts content!

  Cillian: Gah you sound like my ma. Is she paying you?

  Anna: pahahahaha.

  Funnily enough though Anna got me thinking. Because maybe I did need to get my own place and stand on my own two feet? Let my parents enjoy some time without me being in the way. Plus, what if Anna ever wanted to visit? I mean she probably wouldn’t; we were just mates. But if she did?

  I decided I’d look for a place just in case, and maybe one day, I’d ask her if she wanted to come see it! Heading to the kitchen to get a bite to eat, I caught sight of myself in the mirror. God, you’re a tool Cillian, moping for a lass you had one snog with who lives miles away. Ah well, if nothing ever happened at least I had somewhere I could crash out shitfaced without my mother moaning on that I made the house stink of ale and woke her up.

  May 2018

  Cillian: I did it, Anna. I’m all moved in. If I’m short of rent one month, can you help me out as this independence is all your fault.

  Anna: No. Just drink less on a weekend.

  Cillian: Thanks for the moving in present. I’ve always wanted a set of bright red tea towels.

  Anna: I hope to God you spotted the gift card inside, and it’s to be spent wisely. Not ordering a bottle of whiskey. The red can remind you of me when you’re doing the dishes.