Something You Should Know

by Melissa Hill

  And he obviously had her wrapped around his little finger.

  “Well, if that’s the way she wants it, let her make her own mistakes.” Karen said vehemently, turning away from the window and back towards the worktop.

  She picked up a knife, and tried not to treat the misfortunate onion like it was Roan Williams’s head. She had tried her best to warn Jenny, so she needn’t come crying if everything went pear-shaped between them. From now on Jenny and Roan could take a running jump as far as she was concerned.

  Chapter 10

  Karen snuggled in closer beside Shane. The colossal Screen 1 in the Savoy Cinema was without doubt her favourite place to watch a movie in the city and she and Shane were huge 007 fans.

  “I’d better get some more Maltesers,” Shane said, smirking at her through a mouthful of popcorn.

  “Oh no.” Karen exclaimed, following his eyes and realising that she had practically eaten the whole packet by herself. “I’m such a pig.”

  “You like your chocolate, that’s for sure,” he agreed, grinning, and moved out of the row of seats. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  Karen checked her watch as she relaxed in her comfy seat. Hopefully they would begin showing the trailers soon, and then they could watch James Bond getting stuck into all the inevitable baddies. While awaiting Shane’s return from the sweetshop, she watched other cinema-goers being directed to their seats, and frowned when after a few moments she recognised someone sitting about three rows ahead of them. The girl stood up to let another couple pass her by and, as she did, Karen caught her profile. Jessie Kavanagh. She rarely went anywhere without her best friend which meant …

  “Shane, stop it – I already have a stitch in my side from laughing,” Karen heard Lydia Reilly gush from behind her. “We’re sitting over here – oh. I didn’t realise you were with anyone,” she said, catching sight of Karen.

  “Hello, Lydia,” Karen greeted her calmly.

  “Right, well … I’ll see you later Shane, and thanks for the popcorn,” Lydia grinned and deliberately ignoring Karen, pranced back down to where her friend sat.

  “Weapon.” Karen grunted.

  “Who – Lydia?” Shane was momentarily confused. “She’s OK.”

  Karen was petulant. “Thanks for the popcorn, Shane”’ she mimicked, wiggling her shoulders.

  Shane looked amused. “Karen, just because you don’t like Lydia doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t. She’s Aidan’s sister, and I’ve known her for longer than I’ve known you. I met her out in the lobby, and we walked back in together. What’s the big deal?”

  “Oh forget it – the trailers are about to start,” Karen said, as the lights went dim and the music blasted out of the surrounding Dolby speakers. She knew that she shouldn’t let Lydia get to her but it really annoyed her that Shane couldn’t see through the other girl’s flirty act.

  “I’ll let you eat another whole packet of Maltesers if you forgive me,” Shane said, making doe-eyes at Karen, and waving a piece of chocolate inches from her mouth.

  Despite herself, she giggled. Shane put an arm around her shoulders and happily Karen snuggled into him. He was right, she thought. There was no point in letting Lydia Reilly ruin their night by putting her in bad form. She settled down to watch the delectable James Bond, all thoughts of Lydia forgotten.

  Almost two hours later, when the movie had ended, she and Shane walked out of the cinema onto O’Connell Street.

  “What did you think?” Shane asked.

  “Brilliant.” Karen grinned, putting on her coat as they walked companionably down the street. “One of the best Bond movies in ages. We should really make the effort to go to the movies more often, Shane. I really enjoyed tonight.”

  Shane said nothing and Karen stepped out onto the road, trying unsuccessfully to wave down a taxi.

  They walked for a few moments more, before Shane stopped in the street, and kicked an empty burger carton out of his path. “I need to talk to you about something,” he said, his tone serious.

  “Can't it wait? I’m trying to get us a lift home – hey, over here.” She waved furiously at a cab, which had already passed them by.

  “Forget it. We haven’t a hope of getting one here – there are too many others waiting. We might as well start walking home.” He caught her hand and began to steer her towards O’Connell Bridge,

  Karen walked along reluctantly beside him. “I don’t fancy walking all the way back to Rathmines from here. If we wait long enough, we’re bound to get a lift at some stage.”

  Shane stopped walking. “Look I wasn’t going to say anything tonight but – I’ve got something to tell you.”

  She stopped alongside him on the bridge, suddenly aware of his discomfort. “Go on, then, out with it.”

  “Well, you know that I’m not happy at Viking Engineering ...” he began.

  “And?” Karen looked over the bridge and down towards the murky waters of the River Liffey. Where was this going? She knew that Shane wasn’t happy at work. He had taken a job there shortly after his degree, and over the last few years had come to the realisation that Viking Engineering was too small a company to secure the kind of contracts he really wanted to work on. Viking had only recently tendered for the construction of a new stand at Croke Park, and Shane was aware that such a small company hadn’t a hope against the big-boys. He had been proved correct, when the contract had been awarded to another bigger and ostensibly better, engineering firm. It wasn’t the first time it had happened – the bigger, better-known company nearly always secured the contract.

  “The thing is,” Shane continued, “my brother, Jack – remember I told you he’s the architect? Well, he knows someone who knows someone from a large German Engineering company, and apparently they’re looking for Irish-trained staff.”

  “Terrific. Can this guy get you an interview?”

  He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I’ve already had the interview. They sent a representative over last week and … they’ve offered me the job.”

  “That’s terrific news, Shane. What’s the salary like?” Karen enthused, putting her arms around him. She knew that he had been a little distracted these last few weeks but typically he wouldn’t tell her anything about the job until it was in the bag.

  She heard him answer her question about the salary. “It’s out of this world, Karen. It’s a huge multi-national company, and what they’re offering is unreal for someone of my experience. But yet, they want me to work on the design team for this massive water-treatment plant they’re planning to build. It’ll be absolutely incredible – when I was in college, working on something like this was all I dreamed about.”

  “Great – where is all this happening?” she said. “I thought we had enough water-treatment plants around here.”

  The dreamy look disappeared from his eyes, and his expression again grew serious. “That’s what I need to talk to you about, Karen. The project … the company is in Frankfurt.”

  “You mean … Shane you’re not telling me that you’re thinking of working in Germany?”

  He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I’m not just thinking of it, Karen. I’ve already accepted the job – they want me to start next month.”

  She felt a myriad emotions as she tried to make sense of what he had just told her – but anger was by far the strongest of them.

  “How long have you known about this, Shane?” she asked finally.

  “For a little while now, hon,” he said softly, taking her hand in his, “I just couldn’t bring myself to tell you before now. And I told you tonight because … well, I couldn’t keep it to myself much longer.”

  Karen didn’t know what to think. Shane, her Shane, was packing up and moving to Germany – just like that. How could he make a decision like that without telling her?

  “Come on, let’s go up to Bewley’s and get a coffee or something – we can discuss it properly there,” he said.

  She looked at him through narrowed eyes. “I don’t think t
here’s anything to discuss. You’re moving to Germany to start a new life and that’s all there is to it. I don’t know why you want to talk to me about it – you seem to have your mind already made up.”

  “Of course we need to talk about it.” Shane exclaimed. “Obviously, I’ve thought about how this might affect you and me and –”

  “Might affect you and me? Are you mad? Naturally it will affect you and me. Obviously, you and me are finished.”

  “Finished? What are you talking about? I thought maybe we could – ”

  “What – commute? Try a long-distance relationship?” She pulled her coat tightly around her. “Forget it, it would never work – neither of us would be able to make it work.”

  “What? Do you mean to tell me that you’re prepared to give up this relationship – this bloody good relationship we have together, just because I’m no longer living down the road from you?”

  “Yes,” she said shortly, “and you’re the one who’s made this decision – not me.”

  He gave her a strange look. “Karen, you’re not prepared to even consider the possibility that we might be able to do this, are you? What does that say about you?”

  Karen rounded on him, her eyes flashing with anger. “You have some cheek, Shane Quinn. Tonight, you tell me out of the blue that you’re swanning off to work in Germany – next month. You didn’t even bother to let me know that something like this was in the pipeline. How did you expect me to react?”

  She turned on her heel and walked on. He followed silently.

  She managed to flag down a taxi on Westmoreland Street, and she and Shane got into the car, both lost in their own thoughts.

  Karen was so angry that she barely remembered telling the taxi driver where they were going. She hadn’t expected this. She had thought that their relationship was going well, had thought that Shane might include, or at least consult her with his plans. Here she was thinking they were happy together, and all the time he was planning on taking off to Germany, without giving her a second thought.

  He obviously hadn’t taken their relationship that seriously. They could pay lip-service to a long-distance relationship but that’s all it ever would be. She knew that for her the fun that existed in her day-to-day relationship with him would be over, and it wouldn’t be long before either of them began to play away. At least she could be realistic about it.

  She stole a quick look at Shane, as he sat in silence staring out the window as the taxi sped towards Rathmines. He was probably feeling guilty for not having told her earlier. Still, it wouldn’t have made any difference to his decision – he was going, and that was it as far as she was concerned. There was no point in either of them making promises she was sure they wouldn’t be able to keep.

  As the taxi crossed the bridge at Portobello, Karen asked the driver to stop at Leinster Square. Shane, who lived further up the road and closer to Rathgar, looked at her sadly, his face filled with hurt and disappointment.

  “Can’t we even discuss this, Karen?”

  “There's no point," she said abruptly, “You’ve made your decision and that’s it.”

  “For goodness sake, Karen – stop being so bloody stubborn,” he said, his voice clipped, as the taxi turned into Leinster Square. “That’s not ‘it’ and of course we need to talk about it.”

  Karen noticed the taxi-driver shift his position, so that he could get a better look in his rear-view mirror at the warring couple in the back of his car.

  She sat up as the taxi approached the house. “Shane, good luck in Germany. I hope you have a fantastic life. And you,” she snapped at the misfortunate driver, “should mind your own bloody business.”

  The poor man looked more than a little terrified when they came to a stop outside the gate. Karen thrust the fare at him and without another word to Shane, slammed the door behind her and stomped up the pathway towards the flat.

  Watching the taxi move away, she battled with the double ache of disappointment and sadness. Stop, she warned herself. There was no point in getting sentimental about it. Shane had made his decision – she’d just have to get over it and move on.

  Glancing towards the upstairs window, she noticed that the living-room light was on. She looked at her watch. It was nearly ten o’clock – unusual for Jenny to be here at this hour, as she usually stayed at Roan’s on weeknights. She hoped he wasn’t in there with her. Karen was not in the mood for making awkward small talk with the two of them – tonight of all nights.

  On entering the flat, she took off her coat and went into her bedroom, before facing whoever might be in the living-room. But when Karen pushed open the living-room door, the sight that greeted her banished all thoughts of her situation with Shane completely from her mind.

  Jenny had thought the day would never end. She hated late opening in the bank on Thursdays – there was always an endless procession of customers wanting to cash wages cheques, or make withdrawals in time for the weekend.

  She just wasn’t ready for a busy day and, sure enough, the majority of her customers were contrary. One woman had threatened to report her for having the audacity to ask for identification, before cashing a social welfare cheque.

  “I’m entitled to it,” the woman had said defensively. “Who do you think you are telling me that I’m not?”

  Jenny groaned inwardly, having had this argument with different people many times before. She tried to explain to the customer that it was actually the Social Welfare Department, and not the bank, that insisted on identification.

  The woman wasn’t having any of it. Snatching the cheque back across the counter, she turned, and marched upstairs towards Barry’s office. Jenny knew that, if the woman made a complaint about her, the manager would explain that she had been correct in refusing payment without valid ID. Nevertheless she hated a scene.

  It was to be the first of many that day, as customer after customer seemed to have some problem or another with her. It was as if they all knew that she was anxious to get away early that evening.

  Another woman had chastised her for not smiling, while Jenny counted out her foreign cash to her. “I know it must be hard exchanging money for those of us going off on holiday while you’re stuck here,” she had said, “but the very least you could do be is cheerful about it.”

  The customer was probably right – Jenny was being unnecessarily grumpy – but her mind was elsewhere, namely her appointment with the doctor after work.

  Eventually at four o’clock, the front doors closed, and the branch finally grew quiet. For the next half-hour or so, the only sound to be heard in the room was the whirr of adding machines as each cashier balanced the day’s totals. Jenny had hers balanced and totalled within fifteen minutes, and she watched the other cashiers anxiously, hoping that they too would finish soon, so that she would be in good time for her doctor’s appointment.

  Then she heard someone wail loudly from behind her.

  “I don’t believe it,” exclaimed Joyce Ryan, the cashier working alongside her on the Irish cash counter. She was frantically punching the keys on her machine. “I seem to be short about eight hundred euro.”

  Jenny made a face. That meant they’d all have to stay late until Joyce managed to balance. Well, if she had her way, it would be sooner rather than later.

  “Show me your dockets – I’ll give you a hand,” she said, making her way over to the other girl who was anxiously double-checking her figures.

  “The dockets are fine, thank you,” Joyce glared defensively at her.

  “Relax, Joyce,” said Brendan, “she’s only trying to help you so that we can all get out of here at some stage today – you might have made a mistake that you don’t know about.”

  Jenny rifled through the pile of lodgement and withdrawal dockets, and compared them with the computer report. “Here it is,” she said, spotting the mistake almost immediately. “You put four hundred euro through this account as a lodgement, instead of a withdrawal. You gave the customer four hundred, a
nd yet you also lodged four hundred into his account. That’s your eight hundred shortage. If you reverse the transaction, and afterwards make the withdrawal correctly, your totals should balance.”

  “Show me that,” Joyce said, roughly grabbing the docket and scrutinising the relevant account on her computer.

  “She’s right,” Brendan looked over her shoulder at the screen. “We can all go home now – good for you, Jenny.”

  Minutes later, Jenny said a quick goodbye to the others before going upstairs to collect her coat. She looked at her watch as she walked nervously up the street. It was nearly five-fifteen, and her appointment had been for five o’clock.

  As she sat in the waiting-room of the doctor’s surgery, she tried to concentrate on the magazine she was supposed to be reading. She wished that she could just go on in to his office, and find out whatever she needed to find out.

  “Jenny Hamilton?” the receptionist said pleasantly. “Dr Reilly will see you now. His office is down the hallway: the last room on your left.”

  Jenny’s legs shook as she walked towards the office.

  Dr Reilly looked up as she entered the room. “Hi Jenny. Thanks for coming in today.”

  She clasped her hands tightly together as she stood in the doorway “What’s wrong with me, doctor?”

  He waved her inside. “Jenny, please come in and sit down. Don’t worry, there’s nothing seriously wrong with you,” he reassured. “I just need to ask you a couple of questions, in order to find out what we’re dealing with.”

  Jenny’s mind raced as she did his bidding. Nothing seriously wrong? That meant that there was something wrong then, didn’t it? But what?

  Less than half an hour later, Jenny walked numbly out of the plush surgery. Dr Reilly had been lovely, though admittedly a little detached as he explained the situation to her. She felt the tears begin prick at her eyes as she walked along the street. She tried to bite them back, hoping not to cry – not here in front of everyone.