He's Got to Go

by Sheila O'Flanagan

  “Oh, Cate, he couldn’t!”

  “I’m not saying that he has, just that it’s a possibility.”

  “When would he have time to work?” asked Bree. “If he had all these women?”

  “Nessa complains that he’s forever working,” said Cate. “Maybe the days he nips out for some lunchtime nookie he works late in the evenings.”

  “I thought that the days he worked late were the days he might be seeing women,” said Bree.

  “Could be either. Or both.”

  They looked at each other in silence. Eventually Bree got up and scraped the remains of the beef byriani into the bin.

  “Do you want some coffee?” she asked Cate.

  Cate shook her head. “I’ll stick with water.”

  Bree made herself a mug of coffee and sat down beside Cate again.

  “If it was me, I’d want to know,” she said.

  “Me too,” Cate agreed. “Why don’t you follow him again tomorrow?”

  “I’m at work tomorrow,” said Bree. “I can’t follow him when I’m meant to be servicing cars. And I’m desperate to get back to work, Cate. I’ve been going crazy here.”

  “I understand.” Cate nodded. “And, just so’s you don’t think I’m planning to stay here indefinitely, I’ll be looking at some apartments myself tomorrow night.”

  “Don’t feel as though—”

  “Bree, this flat is for one person. It’s your space. And your bed too,” added Cate. “I’m in the way here, I know that.”

  Bree shrugged.

  “Besides,” said Cate, “you know that I need to be somewhere pure and minimalist!”

  “I was thinking of leaving this place myself,” said Bree abruptly.

  Cate looked at her in surprise.

  “I thought maybe I’d go to the States for a while,” Bree told her. “I’m getting restless here. It might be time for me to move on.”

  “Why do you feel like that?” asked Cate. “What’s wrong with settling down?”

  “Like Nessa?” demanded Bree.

  “I see your point.”

  “Settling down is all a con,” Bree told her. “People who get married and have kids and everything just want everyone else to do it too because they resent their lost freedom.”

  “Oh, Bree, that’s not true.”

  “You said yourself that you resented your baby.”

  Cate sighed. “I know.”

  “Do you still?”

  “I—don’t know. Well, yes, of course, I resent what’s happened now! And I resent the fact that my whole life is going to change. But I’m looking on it as a challenge.”

  Bree smiled at her. “Typical you, Cate. If you can’t change it, you want to overcome it. I haven’t got to that point about kids yet though.”

  “I didn’t think I’d got to it either,” said Cate.

  “Have you heard from Finn at all?” asked Bree.

  Cate shook her head. “I blew it with Finn,” she said. “Funny thing, Bree, I always thought I’d blow it with Finn one day. He’s so ambitious and I was constantly struggling to keep up.”

  “He’s as much of a shit as Adam,” said Bree.

  “And what about your bloke?” asked Cate. “What about Michael?”

  “As much of a shit as both of them,” she replied. “Although I wanted it to work with him. I really did.”

  The following evening Cate signed a six-month lease on a tiny one-bedroom apartment near Christchurch. The rent was horrifying but it included a car parking space which was essential for her. She stood in the living room while the letting agent told her how popular these apartments were because they were so close to the city and how difficult it was to get a short lease these days and how he had about fifty other people lined up to view it. So she wrote a check for the first month’s rent and he told her she could move in the following week.

  She’d wanted the short lease because, as far as she was concerned, this was a temporary arrangement. By the time the six months had run out she hoped to have found somewhere more suitable for herself and the baby although it was hard, right now, to know what that might be.

  After signing the lease she opened the living-room window and stared out at the jumble of buildings opposite her while the letting agent packed away the paperwork. This was an interesting part of the city, she told herself. Everyone said that there was a great sense of community here. And it wasn’t far to the office either.

  But she ached inside for Finn’s apartment with its spectacular view of the bay. And she wished that things had turned out differently.

  At the Donnybrook flat, Bree was exhausted from her first day at work since the crash. But it was great to be back. She’d missed the banter and the easy way everyone got on with each other. She’d even missed Christy Burke’s ascerbic tongue and his lectures on good workmanship and best practice. At eleven o’clock he’d called them all up to the monkey room and produced a luscious and sticky cake which said “Welcome Back Bree” and he made a little speech about how relieved they were that she hadn’t been killed. She was utterly dumbfounded by the gesture, it brought an unexpected lump to her throat which she only managed to hide by making a joke about how she’d been hoping they’d get the job of repairing Michael Morrissey’s Punto.

  They’d ate the cake and drank cups of tea together and Bree had felt part of a family with them. It was a most unexpected emotion.

  “We were quite worried about you,” Dave told her when they went back to the workshop.

  “I was always going to be fine,” said Bree. “I’m a tough cookie, you know.”

  “I know that.” Dave grinned. “I was here the day you walked into the hydraulic lift and nearly cracked your skull open.”

  “There you go.” She giggled. “Not a bother on me.”

  “And the boyfriend?”

  She grimaced. “Ex.”

  “Oh, Bree, you didn’t dump him because he nearly killed you, did you? That’s totally unfair!”

  “I didn’t dump him at all,” she said. “He gave me the push, the shit.”

  “I’m sorry.” Dave’s voice softened. “I wouldn’t have said anything if—”

  “It never would’ve worked,” she interrupted him. “He was a useless driver and he didn’t know one end of a camshaft from the other.”

  Dave hugged her. “That’s my girl,” he said and left her to check out a strange, whining noise in a bright red Cinquecento.

  Anyway, thought Bree, as she stretched out on her bed, it had been good to get back to work again and the tiredness she was feeling now was very different to the lethargy that had threatened to engulf her the previous week. It was good, too, to be on her own in the flat for a while. Cate had rung to say that she’d signed the lease on the place in Christchurch but that she was going to have something to eat in town and come home later. Bree knew that this was because Cate was uncomfortable at having landed on her so unexpectedly and, because she was enjoying the solitude, she didn’t try to change Cate’s mind.

  I’d rather have my trauma than Cate or Nessa’s, she mused. After all, physical scars heal. Emotional ones are different. She didn’t want to think about the emotional scars that Michael Morrissey had left. It was strange, she thought, how quickly she’d decided that he was different. And how easily she’d fallen for him. She didn’t normally fall for men so suddenly. She usually had to find out that they were weird before she fell for them and before she realized, almost at the same time, that she’d made another terrible mistake.

  So, she thought. What about the States? Of course her secret dreams of going with Michael were out of the question now. But if she was going to go she should go soon. Certainly before Christmas so that she could be in California when the dark and damp days of the winter hit Ireland.

  There was no need to hang around for much longer. If she stayed in Ireland—and especially in Donnybrook—there was always the possibility of bumping into Michael again. Or, worse, bumping into his father who might call into
the garage one day, particularly since he was friendly with Christy Burke. She really didn’t want to see him again either, it would be humiliating. The girl that wasn’t good enough for his son. She yawned. She’d check out the States next week. Definitely.

  The doorbell rang and startled her. She sat up and glanced at the mantelpiece to see if Cate had accidentally left her keys there. But she hadn’t. Bree sighed. She didn’t feel like talking to anyone tonight. She just wanted to chill out on her own.

  The bell rang again and she swung her legs off the bed. She went downstairs and opened the door.

  “Oh.” She looked at Declan Morrissey in surprise.

  “Hello there,” he said.

  They looked at each other for a couple of seconds then she shrugged. “Did you want to come in?”

  “Thanks,” said Declan.

  He followed her upstairs to the flat. She made a face as she opened the door. Despite Cate’s obsession with tidying things away, it had never been designed for two people and Bree was conscious of the fact that there were clothes everywhere, a couple of unwashed mugs on the table and a pile of new magazines on the floor.

  “Here you go.” She hastily removed a mountain of underwear from one of the chairs and motioned for Declan to sit down.

  “Have you been shopping?” he asked.

  “Shopping?”

  “There seems to be a lot more stuff here than usual.”

  “My sister is staying with me for a couple of days,” Bree explained. “The torcher.”

  “Oh.” Declan looked uncomfortable. “Where is she now?”

  “Signing the lease on another apartment,” said Bree.

  “You’re going to move?”

  Bree shook her head. “Not me, just Cate. Her being here was only a temporary arrangement.”

  The silence between them was unusually awkward.

  “I brought you some more muffins.” Declan handed her the paper bag he’d been clutching.

  “Thanks,” said Bree. “But I’m back at work now. I’m able to fend for myself in the food department again.”

  “Take them anyway,” said Declan.

  “I never turn away food.” Her eyes twinkled at him. “Even when I can fend for myself.”

  He laughed. “How is work going for you?”

  “Today was my first day back. I’m tired but happy.”

  “You like your job, don’t you?”

  She nodded.

  “I’m sorry about you and Michael.”

  She was glad he’d finally said something. She’d been wondering if he even knew.

  “Oh, well, these things happen.”

  “He told me that he liked you a lot but that you were too much of an idol to him.”

  “For heaven’s sake!” She looked annoyed. “Idols are pop stars, not bloody mechanics.”

  “I know what he meant,” said Declan. “Michael’s always been fascinated by cars and boats and planes. He hasn’t a clue, really, but he loves the idea of engines and speed. I think he couldn’t believe it when he met you. Mind you, he didn’t intend to nearly kill you.”

  “It’s a creepy feeling knowing that someone looks up to you for ridiculous reasons,” said Bree sharply. “All I wanted was a boyfriend.”

  “He’s very young,” said Declan. “He’ll grow up eventually.”

  “He’s not much younger than me,” protested Bree. “And I thought he was grown up already.”

  “He’s a bloke.” Declan grinned at her. “All our lives women tell us how bloody immature we are. How could you possibly expect him to be grown up?”

  Bree smiled too. “You’ve got a point.”

  “Better that it happened now,” said Declan. “He’s not exactly a one-woman man. He had at least twenty girlfriends last year. I spend hours on the phone placating women who are desperate to talk to him.”

  “Really?”

  Declan nodded. “They send him cards and flowers and…” He sighed. “One poor girl sent him a giant teddy bear with a ribbon around its neck.”

  “Thank God I never got that far!”

  “I can’t see you doing that somehow,” said Declan.

  “No,” admitted Bree. “I’d be more likely to send him a spanner. But he’s so charismatic, you know? He asked me to buy a slinky dress for our ill-fated date and I did. For him! I’ve never done that before.”

  “I’m sorry I never got to see you in it,” said Declan.

  Bree looked at him in surprise. “Why would you want to?”

  Declan rubbed at his temples. Then he got up and walked to the window where he looked out onto the street below.

  “Are you all right?” asked Bree eventually.

  “Of course.” He turned to face her again. “It’s just that—I thought…” He shook his head. “I’m really sorry, Bree, I’ve done something very stupid.”

  “What?”

  “I came here and I shouldn’t have.”

  She looked at him inquiringly.

  “When Michael told me that he’d split up with you—he told me after you’d gone—I couldn’t believe it.”

  “I don’t know why,” said Bree. “From what you’ve told me it seems a miracle that we actually went out as often as we did!”

  “I told him he was a fool to let you go.”

  “Declan, you know that’s terribly nice of you. But—”

  “And he knew why. He said it to me. It’s because I like you myself.”

  Bree’s eyes, as big and as gray as Nessa’s, widened. “Like me?” she said.

  “You know what I mean,” said Declan.

  “I certainly think I know what you mean but I’m not sure that you want to tell me what you mean.”

  “I’m attracted to you,” he said. “God, that sounds so corny and so old fashioned and so…so…”

  “Yes, it does.” Bree was shocked. She hadn’t expected anything like this. This was Michael’s father, for heaven’s sake! He was old enough to be her father! He didn’t look as old as her father, of course, and he was undeniably attractive, but all the same…

  “When Michael told me that he’d broken up with you I was delighted.” Declan interrupted her thought. “Obviously I didn’t want to look delighted but he could see it. He laughed at me, said he’d known it from the way I reacted after the accident.”

  “What!”

  “He said that it was quite clear that I cared for you more than he did.”

  Bree looked at him in horror. “Is that why he broke it off with me?” she demanded. “Because he thought that you fancied me? Is that why he was so annoyed?”

  “A little,” confessed Declan.

  “Oh, bloody hell!” Bree looked at him in disgust. “The one bloke I really cared about and he breaks it off because his father fancies me!”

  Declan rubbed his forehead. “Not entirely,” he said. “Honestly, Bree. He—he said that you were too strong for him and too self-sufficient for him and that you didn’t need him. I told him he was talking rubbish, that you were sweet and not half as self-sufficient as you appeared and that all he had to do was to treat you right and then he said that he didn’t think he’d ever be able to treat you as anything other than a cool mechanic but that it was patently obvious I was looking for a chance to have a go.”

  “And did he say all this before or after he dumped me?” demanded Bree furiously.

  “After,” said Declan. “I didn’t influence him, Bree. I really didn’t. You don’t have to believe me of course but…”

  Bree ran her fingers through her hair so that it stood up in spikes. “Declan—”

  “I know that I’m twenty years older than you,” said Declan. “I know that you’re probably looking at me as some sad old git who’s lost his marbles. But I haven’t been able to get you out of my head.”

  “I can’t deal with this right now,” said Bree. “I’m sorry.”

  “That’s OK,” said Declan. “I just had to let you know.” He twined his fingers together. “I appreciate that I�
�m probably being totally unfair on you. I know that people would say that I should just leave you to do your own thing. But I—I just couldn’t help myself. I had to come here.”

  “You shouldn’t have come here,” said Bree.

  “I know,” said Declan. “I told myself to walk away without ringing the bell but I couldn’t help it.”

  Bree bit her lip. “I liked you,” she said. “I thought you’d be a great father-in-law.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Declan. “I guess I’m no better than Michael really.”

  “I—you know, I really fancied Michael,” said Bree despairingly. “I wanted to be with him. I wanted to go to bed with him.” She watched as Declan’s face flushed.

  “I’d better go.” He patted his jacket pocket to locate his car keys. “I guess that better men than me wouldn’t have come. I used the muffins as an excuse. That’s rather sad, isn’t it?”

  Bree grinned lopsidedly. “I’ll still eat them.”

  “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” said Declan. “I kept telling myself that coming here would be a mistake but then I argued that not telling you would be an even bigger mistake.” He sighed. “I’m forty-five years old, Bree. I’ve been married. And I’m still no better at this sort of thing than I was when I was twenty-five. I guess men never grow up.”

  “Guess not,” she said shortly.

  “If you ever…” Declan didn’t finish the sentence.

  “Goodbye, Declan,” said Bree.

  “Right,” said Declan. He opened the door of the flat. “Thanks for not laughing at me.”

  “Thanks for the muffins,” said Bree as he left.

  29

  Sun in Aquarius, Moon in Aries

  Fast and furious, makes things happen.

  Nessa took a chicken out of the fridge and put it on the worktop ready to be seasoned. She was doing roast chicken, sweet peas, potatoes and gravy for dinner. It was one of Adam’s favorite meals. It didn’t matter to her though. She was on a diet, determined to lose a stone in weight. So far she’d lost three pounds. It wasn’t difficult. She wasn’t hungry.

  It had been an uneasy week. Adam had been home early every night since their confrontation about Annika and that bothered her even more than his previous lateness would have done. It felt as though he were changing things simply to prove to her that he was telling the truth but she didn’t really want him to change anything. All she wanted was to live their lives the way they always had. And to know that he wasn’t having an affair with anyone. They hadn’t made love again either, although that wasn’t entirely unusual. But it worried her all the same. When she’d asked him, jokingly, the other night why he hadn’t touched her, he’d said it was because he was waiting for the scars on his back to heal.