Erotic Refugees

by Paddy Kelly

  “Five of us,” Karen said with a scowl. “Can't forget Preben who fixed the deal, can we? Five equal partners in this.”

  Eoin turned to Rob, who gave a shrug. “Sounds fair, since he's doing all the sales work. Five equal shares it is.”

  “So,” Rob said. “Anybody want a cigar?” He looked around the table to three heads being shaken. “Seemed the proper thing to do.”

  “Save them for when the big-shot business guys come to visit,” Karen said.

  “Or return them to the shop,” Eoin said. “You kept the receipt?”

  “Nope,” Rob said. “I'm not doing that. They'll be coming out with us tonight. And, I know, sore heads from yesterday and all. But tough. No excuses. Yesterday was a wake, this is a proper bloody celebration. Yeah? You with me?”

  They clapped, and clinked glasses. Eoin took a frothy swallow.

  “Sick day tomorrow then?” he said.

  “Oh yeah,” Rob said with a grin. “I think ye can count on that.”

  Chapter 38

  “Give me a Maher,” Eoin said. “And don't spare the mayo.”

  Brian wiped his hands and slung the tea-towel over his shoulder. He took a step back and gazed up at the new addition to his sandwich board.

  “Never thought I'd see the day. I had to get rid of the Plato to make room for it.” He sighed. “I liked the Plato. Important life lesson number one—never make a bet with that jammy bastard Rob. And a Maher for the lady too?”

  Alice smiled politely. There was no way she was going to eat one of those vile things. She liked to think of herself as adventurous, but this anglophone compulsion to smother things in mayonnaise was just too much. Not to mention the mashed egg, which made it the least desirable food item she could possibly imagine.

  “I think I'll pass. I’m allergic to egg, especially in its goo form. Give me a Sagan, a small one. With salad.”

  “Right then. Sagan, Maher, pair of lattes.” Brian turned to Eoin. “Well done on the company, by the way. Rob tells me you signed the contract.”

  Eoin grinned. “Thanks. Yeah, it's all official now, plus I think I've found a nice office space. Not too far from here actually.”

  “Really?” Brian said. “Well that's good news! Nothing wrong with paying customers. And Rob is paying for his coffees from now on, you can tell him that from me. Well, go on, take a seat, I'll bring your stuff over.”

  The Outback Café had quite a few customers, all of them trying their best to dispel the November gloom. Alice knew exactly how they felt, as they stocked up on sugar and caffeine as if preparing for hibernation. That was one good thing about the eternal winter in Sweden, though—it made the cafés very cosy. Sitting around a candle with cinnamon buns, while the gloom descended and the stinging cold made the air sparkle, was one of the nicest ways to while away an evening.

  She made her way to the tiny back room and found a free place to sit. Eoin settled across from her as she removed her long coat and hung it up. She sat down with a sigh and rubbed her calves.

  “These things will be the death of me. Who decided to put heels on boots anyway? And it's not like I need heels, so who am I kidding?”

  Eoin made an affirmative noise but didn’t say anything. So he was in one of those moods, was he? Alice had suspected from his phone call that something was on his mind. Hopefully he wouldn’t make her work too hard to find out what it was.

  Brian delivered their lattes with a nod and slipped away again. Eoin reached for his glass and proceeded to spoon foam into his mouth, as Alice watched with a flicker of amusement. This man was as easy to see through as a gentle breeze.

  “So Eoin, this thing on your mind. Tell.”

  He looked up, surprised for only a moment. “Oh right, you can tell things, can’t you? With that intuition of yours. I always forget.”

  “Well I’d guessed you hadn’t brought me here just to show me your friend’s sandwich.”

  Eoin grunted in reply and reached into his bag. He extracted a sheaf of paper and slid it across the table. Alice folded it flat, looked it over and then looked up.

  “I don’t get it Eoin. It’s a dating profile. Do I know this person? Is it you in drag, maybe? Your fabulous new stalking strategy?”

  “It’s Jenny!” he spat in exasperation. “Okay, you can’t see her face very well on the profile photo, but you can on the second page, see?”

  Alice looked at page two and was mildly surprised to see he was right—it definitely was his ex. “You're right, I’d know those ear-rings anywhere.” She scanned the photos before turning back to the text on the first page. She said “hmm” a few times then folded the papers and slid them across the table to Eoin.

  “I’m still not getting it. It’s just her dating profile, and it’s pretty tame. She even mentions she has a kid, and that he’s a priority for her. All fine and proper. So tell me, why the emergency meeting?”

  Eoin’s fluster was not abating that easily. “But, but, if she’s doing that”—he flapped a hand in the vague direction of the paper—“then she’s moving on, isn’t she? She’s looking for somebody to replace me, some new father figure for Damien. Like I never even existed!”

  Alice shrugged. “Well what did you want? For her to sit around at home and mourn you until her teeth fell out?”

  Eoin looked sheepish. “Yeah, a bit. Well I didn’t expect full-on dating anyway, her actually out there and advertising for a better man than me. And yes, I know it’s unfair of me to feel like this, since I’ve been dating too, but I can’t help it.”

  Alice thought about her reply as she sipped her latte. She was granted a little more time to ponder when Brian arrived with the sandwiches. He slid them onto the table and stepped back with a flourish.

  “A fine half-Sagan,” he said, “and the first Maher of the day. And if you don't like it, well, you know which Irishman to blame.”

  He slipped away and Eoin began nudging his sandwich around on the plate, biting his lip as he studied it. Around and around it went and Alice was pretty sure he wasn’t seeing it at all. She sat in silence, letting him think.

  “Am I over-reacting?” he blurted out. “Tell me if I am. It’s just, some other guy, being accepted as some kind of father to Damien … it’s just all wrong.”

  Alice took a deep breath. “Eoin, my dearest Irish friend in this whole wide world. Jenny is out there looking for happiness, just like you. Like the million other single parents in this city. You’ll have to face that she’ll probably get a new partner. And one day soon Damien will be mentioning things this guy’s done or said, and he’ll be a part of his life. And you might not like it, but tough, because it will happen. You set the ball in motion, and now there’s no stopping her new life. Or yours either for that matter.”

  “He’s not becoming a father to the boy,” Eoin said. “And she if even imagines that Damien will call him dad, well…”

  Alice reached out to pat his hand on the table. “Look, there’s no need to panic just yet. She’s just browsing a dating site, maybe only because some friend talked her into it. You know how we friends can be, right? But if she really does want to find somebody, then she will, it’ll happen. But it won’t mean—”

  “But I’m not actually looking for anybody!” Eoin said. “Not like that! I know Jenny, she’s got this romantic fairy-tale thing going on. Everything is I-love-you-forever and candles around the bath and telling each other what we’re thinking all the time, you know? She actually believes all that rubbish, all the stupid rom-com stuff she’s been fed. Like she’ll find true love and her life will be completed by another person, and fucking rings on balconies in the fucking moonlight—”

  Alice raised a hand, sure that the other occupants of the café were getting nervous of the ranting Irishman. Eoin nodded. “Sorry.”

  “It’s fine,” Alice said. “It’s a bit of a shock, and I know how it feels. I remember when Nils told me about some new female friend of Johan’s, and I was scouring Facebook for a week, trying to find
signs of a girlfriend. But don’t be too hard on Jenny, no matter what bullshit she might believe. She’s only human. And lonely.”

  “Oh God how I wish it was just Jenny,” Eoin said with a dry laugh. “But it’s the same with half the dating profiles I see. All these women with their enormous demands, and their long list of things they want in a partner, looking for some mythical man who ticks all their boxes. And then they just moan when they find out he doesn’t exist, as if it’s our fault and not theirs.”

  “Well, I see the online dating rot is setting in. I’m surprised it took so long really.”

  “It does give you a bad view of humanity, that’s for sure.” Eoin drained his latte, starting to regain his composure. “But then I guess I don’t understand people so well. I mean, how can people out there”—he waved towards the window—“those normal people, how do they find somebody and just stay with them forever? Do they know something I don’t? Some secret? Maybe a magic spell?”

  “I think they just settle,” Alice said. “People take the best one going and they hang onto them. They just sink their teeth in and never let go. Because there’s nothing worse than being single, right? You may as well have leprosy. Or gills.”

  “Well, somebody did tell me this is the city of the single. You, if I recall.”

  ”Right.” She speared a cube of feta cheese and savoured the delicious salty burst in her mouth. “You wouldn’t know it though. The way the papers go on, it sounds like being single is the worst thing that could happen to you. Like a disease where the only cure is speed-dating. I mean, the more you think about it, the more you realise it’s true. The world is built for couples, as if they’re the real people, and the singles are just real people waiting to happen. And it’s damn annoying.”

  “Tell me about it,” Eoin said. “I took Damien to a safari park before the summer and I had to pay for a whole double room. They had no single rooms with an extra kid’s bed. Because why would a single parent go there?”

  Alice shifted her chair closer and lowered her voice.

  “I have a theory,” she said. “Do you know why so many people in Stockholm are single? Because they can be, that’s why. They have the money and the possibility to live by themselves, simple as that. They can get a good night’s sleep and decide what to have for breakfast and don’t have to compromise about which part of the paper to read first. I mean, why build a perfectly good life just so you can glue it to somebody else? Sure, you run the risk of dying alone, but we all die alone anyway, don’t we?”

  “But you’re not single,” Eoin said. “Are you?”

  She gave a sly smile. “Well no, I’m not on the market. But I’ll not be moving in with Andy in the foreseeable future. I like having my kids every other week, I like the freedom and flexibility. And maybe that’s a really horrible thing to say, and it makes me the worst mum in the world, but it’s true. I like having every other week entirely to myself, and my mother would have liked that too if she could have done it. Of course she would. Who wouldn’t?”

  “Yeah, I like it too,” Eoin admitted, although the guilt was plainly visible on his face. “I get total contact with Damien for a few days, where I decide everything, and then when he's not there I get to do whatever I want. My time is my own. It’s actually quite brilliant, and I know Damien will be back before too long.”

  “Of course on the downside there’s the bigger rent, and the bills and food and entertainment. And not getting invited to couple dinners. Although the couple dinner thing is actually a bonus. I’d prefer to swallow my own tongue than listen to another dry pair complaining about their mortgage, and their fucking winter tires.”

  Alice finished her latte and nodded towards the papers on the table. “Well, as you can see, it’ll soon get nice and complicated for you. But it will also get better once Jenny has somebody else in her life. Trust me, it will. And I suppose I should say welcome aboard, you’re now officially a modern family.”

  Eoin smiled. “So I’m in the club then?”

  “When your ex starts dating other people then yes, you’re definitely in the club. And it’s not a bad club. Plenty of sex in it, at least. But you’re happy, aren’t you? Despite the fact that you pay more for hotel rooms and you might die alone?”

  Eoin didn’t have to think about it long before he nodded.

  “Yeah, I am. I’m very happy. And I haven’t been able to say that for years. My life is mine to mess up again and it’s bloody great.”

  “Well then, you know what we should do? We should celebrate. With something totally random. What do you think?”

  “Sure,” Eoin said. “That would be nice. How about karaoke? I haven’t done that in years.”

  “God no,” Alice said. “No chance. Next.”

  “Pool then,” Eoin said casually. “Just off the top of my head. Not that I’m any good or anything, it’s just fun.”

  Alice nodded. “All right then, pool it is!”

  She thought she saw something in his expression, some glimmer of mischief behind his eyes. But she must have been mistaken. Eoin hated sport, so he couldn’t possibly be any good at pool. She’d take him for all the loose change he had.

  “Great then,” Eoin said, and reached for his jacket. “You’re sure you don’t want to try the Maher? Last chance.”

  Alice looked at the troubling egg construction on Eoin’s plate. She met his eye and smiled warmly.

  “Not even if it was the very last sandwich on earth.”

  Chapter 39

  Rob stumbled up the stairs with two paper carrier bags containing every book he owned on programming and web design. He passed through the shared lobby, nodding to two vaguely familiar guys sitting on the sofa, and staggered into what was now his very own office. He slid the bags across the floor, collapsed in a sweaty heap in one of their two chairs, and nodded towards the window.

  “Jaysus, was that big ugly yellow building there yesterday?”

  Eoin looked up from his computer. “I'm afraid so. It's not much of a view, is it? Although for this rent we're lucky we even have gravity.”

  “I hear they turn off the gravity on weekends,” Karen shouted from the second room, a space not much bigger than a cupboard. “Just so you know.”

  Rob looked around with satisfaction. The place was definitely coming along. He and Eoin had moved their own stationary computers from home so there was something to work on. They were preparing space in the server lock-up, where the five other companies on this floor kept their machines. And they had a range of geeky toys on a shelf (courtesy of Milly), the required mascots of any successful young web company. And with those, how could they fail?

  “So when are we getting some proper furniture in here?”

  “Whenever you can fix a car for a trip to Ikea,” Eoin said. “As you’re the only paid employee, I think that's only fair.”

  Karen emerged from the smaller room carrying a few folders she had extracted from one of their moving boxes. “So where do I put these things?”

  Rob pointed. “Bit short of actual shelf right now, so just throw them in the corner, beside my desk.”

  “And what about my desk then?” she said, looking around with a frown. “Where am I supposed to sit?”

  “Jaysus Karen, what do ye want a seat for, ye'll never be here!”

  “Well I don't know about that. I mean, if it goes well, I might have to move to Stockholm. And I'll have to bring Preben with me of course, and he's not small. Unless you'd prefer I dump him, so you can save space?”

  Rob scowled. “Be nice to our salesman. Keep him happy and satisfied.”

  “Oh so you're my pimp now, is it? Telling me to be nice to boys for profit? The mother will be thrilled to hear that.” Her gaze settled on Eoin. “So how often do you plan to be here? Maybe we can share your desk?”

  “I'll be going down in hours at my job pretty soon,” Eoin said. “And that means I'll be here one full day a week. Maybe two if I beg nicely. I'll be broke, but it'll be worth it.”


  They heard a scraping and bumping from the lobby. Moments later Milly appeared, dragging some large rolled-up thing behind her. She shook her head with a brrr sound.

  “I hope you all realise it's snowing out there.”

  Eoin and Rob shared a look before dashing to the window.

  “Brilliant,” Eoin said, as he pressed his face to the cold glass.

  “You can always tell the new ones fresh off the boat,” Milly said. “Amazed by a bit of snow. Here Karen, give me a hand with this.”

  They unfolded and stretched out the banner to its full width. Rob walked around to the front to have a look at it.

  “Isn't that the same one from the launch party? With the 'dating' part of 'dating dirt' removed?”

  “Sure is! Thrift is my middle name, don’t you know. And here we'll write 'design' in equally gaudy letters and voila, our company logo!”

  “Dirt Design?” Eoin said, turning away from the fluffy snow. “That's not terrible I suppose. And we can even keep the shovel. Nice.”

  “Thanks.” Milly blew a strand of hair from where it had stuck to her nose. “Well I don't plan to take this jacket off so I'm going. Anybody interested in a celebration dinner? I'm sure the company budget could stretch to the Indian on the corner.”

  “Now wait a second,” Eoin protested. “Our funds are limited, and we can't go spending it all on food and drink before we've even bought anything useful. I mean, chairs and shelves aren't free—”

  “Well now,” Rob said. “Who died and made you chief accountant?”

  “You're very welcome to do it if you want,” Eoin said as he sat back down at his computer. “We'll have tax papers to fill in too. I'll show you where they are. You have a pen with a lot of ink handy?”

  “Oh come on now, Lord of the Wallet,” Milly pleaded. “I would add a 'please' if I thought it would help.”