by Paddy Kelly
Jenny looked about to say something but Eoin wasn't done.
“I”—he jabbed a finger into his chest—“am going to Gotland as planned. I will have my well-deserved holiday. Damien will be fine. And I won't even blame you for this, because it isn't your fault. Although you'd definitely blame me if it was the other way around. Wouldn't you?”
Jenny shook her head and looked away, up the corridor.
“I don't know what happened to the man I married.”
Eoin couldn't help a bitter laugh. “And you know why? Because as soon as you married him, you tried to change him into the man you really wanted! Well I think if you want that man, then go find him! He's out there somewhere, and nothing would make me happier.”
He took a deep breath and rubbed his sore neck.
“Look, I'll have my mobile on all the time. Just call me if you need to. And if things get worse, I'll come back. It's not the moon, it's only Gotland. But that's all I'm going to offer, and I think it's actually plenty.”
Jenny nodded and didn't say anything else. Her eyes were bright with tears. Eoin placed a hand on her arm and squeezed it. Her face flashed in surprise but she didn't do or say anything more.
Eoin removed his hand. They went back into the room and sat with Damien for a couple of hours until he was released. Eoin went with them to the hospital café where they had a celebratory glass of fizzy orange and a fat slice of chocolate cake. He told Damien he was heading off to an island for a few days, and the boy thought this was an excellent idea and told him to watch out for sharks.
Eoin hugged and kissed his son, gave a brisk nod to Jenny and hurried to the exit. Once he was sitting on the bus he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He was tingling all over and realised that something amazing had just happened.
He had, for possibly the first time, properly stood up to Jenny. He had stated his own position, and braved her scorching guilt, and he was still standing. That surely demanded a drink. As did the fact that he'd managed to lose both an actual and possible sex partner in the same afternoon. Although that drink would be more of a drowning-sorrows kind of thing.
Drinking partners, however, were thin on the ground. Rob was away in Copenhagen, Alice was on Gotland and there was really nobody else he knew well enough to call on for a spontaneous weekday beer.
He pondered this problem as he hopped on a train and jumped off at the Old Town. He found himself wandering in the direction of Malone's and reached the bar just as a customer opened the door and left, exposing him to the tantalizing smell of fried food, the friendly clink of glasses and the murmur of good-natured conversation. A second later, the door swung shut again.
Oh screw it, Eoin thought, I'll just go get a pint by myself. There'll be a newspaper or magazine to read or, failing that, the text on the back of a packet of crisps. Today could simply not slip away without some kind of celebration.
He pushed the door open and went on in. After he'd settled happily in a corner with a pint, a newspaper and a packet of crisps he looked proudly around. He realised he didn't care in the slightest if people were looking at him. In fact he kind of hoped they were.
Chapter 27
“Fish, right,” Rob said. “D'ya think they wonder about what's on the other side of the water?”
Eoin looked down and studied the surface just below his swinging feet. “Probably not. I mean, not any more than we wonder what’s inside a wall or, you know, under the bed.”
Rob grunted in agreement but as Eoin thought about it, he realised his reply made no sense at all. Must be the beer. They'd been drinking for most of the afternoon and now it was seven in the evening. They were on a battered old jetty, watching the fish as they snatched at flies. Each fly strike was accompanied by a tiny splash and the slow spread of rings across the water. That was the only sound they could hear in the otherwise pure and perfect silence.
Alice had sent them away from the house while she made dinner. Eoin had offered to help but she'd made it clear that in that house only her or her mother would ever prepare dinner, and that's just how it was. The guests were of course upset to be relegated to the jetty with nothing to do and a six-pack of Norrlands Guld to do it with, but they put on brave faces and suffered their punishment well.
“Andy told me about that thing with Alice,” Rob said.
Eoin turned around with an eager look (far too eager, he suspected). “Really? When? What did he tell you?”
“Last weekend. He was a bit more pissed than normal and he came home with me after the pub cos I promised him the camp bed. And there was a bit of whiskey drinking and I guess it loosened his tongue.”
“And what did he say?”
Rob lit a cigarette, crossed his arms and settled into a story-telling position. “Well now, it was like this. They met on the net a while back—”
“And this was before she got divorced, right? Like a couple of years ago?”
“So he said. Anyway they made a film of, ye know, some stuff they got up to. And she asked Andy to send it to her, so he did. And then he didn't hear from her any more. She just vanished, poof, into thin air.”
Eoin tried to focus on what Rob was saying but was powerfully distracted by the realisation that there was, or had been, a recording in existence featuring Alice unrobed and up to things. He shook his head to shift the thought and only partially succeeded.
“Wow,” Eoin said, and cleared his throat. “Well she did say that Andy had done something stupid that ruined her marriage. I suppose that was it, sending her that film. Shit, maybe her husband saw it? Or the kids? That's what it was. Wow.”
“Mmm,” Rob said, pausing for some beer. “Andy didn't know, but that's my guess too. He never heard back from her. He sent her a couple of mails, and a few texts, but no reply.”
“But he knew she was married, right?”
“He knew she had kids, yeah, but from what he tells me the whole marriage part had kind of been left out. He said he only found that out when you told him.”
Eoin nodded. “And that's all?”
Rob flicked his cigarette into the water and lay back with a satisfied groan. “Yip, that's it. He hasn't seen her since. That's all he'd say.”
Eoin's mind raced. Now that he knew most of the story, he could just go ahead and dig out the remainder from Alice. He was aware he was getting a bit obsessive about this whole thing, but he couldn't help taking it personally that Alice wouldn't confide in him. He saw her as one of his only good friends, and if she couldn't share things he wasn't even sure of that. He was tired of things being unsure, of the world always slipping around underfoot like loose gravel. He wanted to know where he stood with people, and especially with his friends.
He nodded in determination as he swirled the beer in his mostly-empty can. He simply wasn't leaving this island without learning the whole truth. Or until Alice broke his arm for bugging the hell out of her. Whichever came first.
After they'd stuffed themselves with new potatoes, fish soufflé, green salad, peach sorbet and a few slabs of cheese, the three of them transported their plates and bowls to the kitchen. Then, at Alice's insistence, Eoin took out the folder containing the designs for the site and started to arrange the pages on the newly cleared table. Alice fixed some coffee while Rob, cigarette in mouth, settled down to watch them both working, like some kind of scruffy lord.
Alice's mother's house was small but ridiculously pretty. Rose bushes climbed up trellises on the exterior walls, pots of fuchsias hung on chains from the eaves, and a huge clump of honeysuckle by the front porch poured out its heady scent day and night. All of this flora, however, was outdone by the riot of colour in the strip of wild grass around the edge of the lawn. From that crazy tangle of green peered flowers of orange and blue and fiery red, and even at this late hour butterflies flitted among the stalks. There wasn't a single television in the house and it clearly wasn't needed. The exterior show was entertainment enough.
Alice put down the tray of coffee and settled int
o her chair. She sipped some red wine. She'd been sipping it so long now that her lips had become noticeably purple. She studied the papers Eoin was arranging.
“But boys, the name? DateAbase? It's awful, it sounds like date abuse and not many people will be in a rush to go there, will they?”
Eoin nodded. “But what else is there? Date Book? Date Compare? Maybe Date Dealer?”
“Dirt Dealer?” Alice said. “How about that?”
“Sounds like something to do with farming,” Rob said. “My dad would be in there in a second lookin' for tractors and cattle grids.”
“Well what about Dating Dirt then?” Alice said.
“That's not too bad,” Eoin agreed.
“Well I'm still thinking of tractors,” Rob said. “But sure, Dating Dirt it is then, where you always get the latest dirt on those Internet ladies.”
“Well,” Alice said, “I'm assuming it will also be for women, right? I mean you will be able to go in and look up the dirt on guys?”
“Sure,” said Eoin. “No reason why not, we just need some women to join up and start adding some gossip.”
“We are equal-opportunity dirt dealers,” Rob added.
“Yes, that's comforting.” Alice pulled back the sleeves of her cardigan and leaned closer to the table. “Alright then, talk me through this. You log in, search for the nickname of the person you want to know about, and I suppose you have to say which site you found them on—”
“That's what this drop-down here is for,” said Eoin.
“And I assume if the person isn't in the system you will have to add them. Will you be pulling their details directly from the dating sites?”
“Not unless we want to get chewed up by lawyers,” Rob said. “We just get the users to add a little profile of the person they're rating, if they're not already in the system. And then they can rate them in all the important areas. Size, voice, laugh, smell, sense of humour, tits—”
“You are sad and sick little men,” Alice said.
“Hey”, Rob said, “nobody ever lost money by underestimatin' the scumminess of the general public.” He set his beer down on the table. “Now, let me tell ye all about our icons. This one with the little dick on it, that's the shagability rating—”
“Jesus,” Alice said and shook her head in despair.
Alice and Eoin were talking and watching the sky. It still wasn't dark and the light at the front porch was doing a good job of attracting the insects around to the far side of the house, leaving them in relative peace. Eoin found that he was happy. He was in this beautiful place with people he considered to be his friends, one of whom smelled sharp and sweet like an angry flower and was sitting beside him on the outdoor couch with a blanket wrapped around her bare legs.
The other one Eoin had discovered on his last trip to the fridge. Rob had collapsed on the couch in the living room with his sandals still on, and was rattling out a gentle snore. Eoin didn’t see any point in waking him so now it was just him and Alice and the glowing horizon.
“So now you have no woman,” Alice said, “having driven them all away with the most bizarre plan I've ever heard. I mean, how did you think for one second—”
“Yes, I know,” Eoin said, making a face. “The plan was rubbish, you don't need to tell me again. But I thought it was worth a shot. I just wish I could attract women without these stupid complicated plans. You know, like Rob does—”
“Rob!” Alice laughed. “Oh come on Eoin, Rob doesn't hold a candle to you. Enough with the putting yourself down. Rob's got his arrogant country boy thing and maybe some women love that. But he's single too and his ex sunk your Internet site, remember? You, on the other hand are a smart and good guy.”
“Yes, fantastic, it's every man's dream to be a 'good guy'. Because obviously they get all the girls. Much better to be good than desirable.”
“And it doesn't help if I say you are desirable?”
Eoin laughed. “Great, a friend thinks I'm desirable. Brilliant.”
He drank some more water. He'd been drinking only water for the last hour, trying to keep ahead of Alice and prepare himself for the interrogation he'd planned for her. It felt like a very clever plan.
“That's like my mother telling me I'm the best boy in the world. Cheers to that.”
Alice gave him a strange look. “Eoin, just for the record, and just this once, since I'm wobbly from the wine, I'll tell you something. When I first met you I was attracted to you. I mean, you dress sharp and you're a bit hopeless in a sexy way, and you're smart, in most things. And that accent. You are aware of how attractive women find that accent? That could remove a lot of underwear if used properly.”
Eoin stared at her in shock. Had she really just said that she’d once been interested in him?
“Of course,” she added hastily, “now I wouldn't dream of letting anything, you know, happen. People to fuck are easy to come by, but friends are gold.”
“Right,” Eoin said, not sure where to look. “So why didn't you … you know? Back then?”
She took more wine. “Well you never made a move, did you? Plus you were still with Jenny, and I was with Johan.”
Eoin's heart hammered. “But if I had made a move?”
She swung her head back and took a deep breath. “This is stupid to talk about now. I would have done you, if you weren't quite you and I wasn't quite me and things were difference. No, sorry, dif-fer-ent. Well you know. Course now we wouldn't be friends. And friends are well, everything. Just remember”—she reached out with an unsteady hand and squeezed his arm—“lots of women will want a piece of you.”
“Nice to know I suppose,” Eoin said. He was glad for the cover of darkness as he knew he was blushing like a beetroot. And he realised that now was as good a time as any to put her on the spot. She sure wasn't going to get any drunker. He cleared his throat and Alice, sensing something was up, turned her unfocused gaze in his direction.
“What?”
“Alice,” he said. “I talked to Andy. And he told me what happened.”
“He told you what?” she said with a dark look.
“About when you were seeing each other. And how you broke up. I just want your angle on it. The truth.”
“Oh,” Alice said as if relieved, although Eoin couldn't really see why. He kept what he hoped was a stern gaze fixed on her and after a while she relented.
“Okay then, fine, if it'll get you off my back. Yes I saw him. Andry. I mean … An-dy. Stupid thing to do. I was married, but it was … dissolving, and he was there. That's all there was to it. He was just there.”
“And there was something about a DVD…”
“Pah!” She stuck out her arm, unsteady as it was, and bared her wrist. “Here, just suck my blood why don't you? What do you want to know all this for? It's ancient, old stuff. Rubbish.”
Eoin waited her out. There wasn't much else to do.
“Look, the stupid idiot was supposed to send it to me. To my email, like a normal person! Not burn it on a stupid DVD and post it to my jävla house!”
“And what happened?”
She gave a dry laugh. “What do you think happened? Johan opened it, and bang went my marriage. Not that it wasn't doomed already but, Jesus, what a mess. Johan told his parents, the moron. I'm surprised he didn't put the video on his Facebook page too. And all because of Andy not doing what I asked him to do, a simple jävla request. It still makes my blood boil.” She shrugged. “Still, it's over and done with. But the years after were really hard, and all for nothing.”
“But Andy didn't know it all,” Eoin said, watching her for a reaction and expecting things to get fiery. “Did he? He knew you had kids, you told him that, but you didn't tell him you were married.”
Alice looked down. “No, I didn't tell him. I didn't expect it to last very long. So yeah, my bad. And I've nothing against him, but I'm tired of thinking about it. Just leave it go, there's no point going over this any more.” She placed her hand on his. “Just leave it g
o Eoin, okay?”
Eoin nodded. Well that was good enough, she'd told him her side, just like he'd wanted. Although … maybe that wasn't enough. Maybe he, as a good friend, should do more than just listen? Maybe he should go full out, and try and get the two of them talking again? It was clear they had a lot to talk about, a lot of misunderstandings to trash out. Wouldn't a true friend do that for her? Or at least try?
He sipped more water and noticed that Alice's eyes were closed and her head was drifting forward towards the table. He shook his head, marvelling at the irony—he was the last person standing. He, Eoin, the only one of the three who could hold their drink. That was unprecedented, to say the least.
A few dark shapes darted past the house—bats, swooping after insects. The sky behind them was a stubborn yellow-grey and that was as dark as it would get. They were already on their way to morning.
“Eoin,” Alice groaned, her eyes still closed. “Help me to, the room. You know, my bed.”
Eoin took the wine glass that she was cradling like a baby and managed to stand her up. He slung her arm over his shoulder and manoeuvred her through the house to her room. When she caught sight of her bed she dived onto it and crawled under the covers without even removing her sandals. She waved and collapsed onto the pillow.
Eoin watched her for a while. She didn't move another inch and soon was breathing deeply. He closed the door, tiptoed past the couch where Rob was happily snoring, and went into the other bedroom where he pulled off his clothes and climbed the ladder to the top bunk.
He could have easily taken the bottom one, since Rob was not leaving the sofa tonight, but he actually preferred top bunks. They reminded him of family holidays to Scotland back when he was ten, with him on top and Adrian underneath reading a book by torchlight and laughing like a horse. A ceiling right above his face made him feel safe.
He slipped between the cold sheets and closed his eyes. The air smelled like every Swedish summer cottage, a combination of pot-pourri, mould, and bedclothes washed in too much fabric conditioner. His mind spun, with one single thought lodged in it, unwilling to shift itself.
