So Steffie allowed herself to feel a smidgen of sympathy for Jenny and her pregnancies, but that was as far as it went because there was no doubt in her mind that her mother should have told her about her biological father years ago. She was also upset that Pascal hadn’t insisted on it. It had been a wonderful gesture on his part to raise her as his own daughter, but the truth was that she wasn’t. She was someone else’s. And she should have been told.
She also finally understood Alivia’s need to meet her own father, despite Lucinda having been so set against it. It was all about knowing who you were, thought Steffie. Where you’d come from. She’d been secure about it before. Now she felt lost.
‘You OK?’ Liam turned to her as her breath escaped in a low sigh. She nodded and told him what she’d been thinking.
‘I can imagine it’s difficult to deal with the fact that everything you thought you knew has changed,’ agreed Liam. ‘But you haven’t changed, Steffie. You’re still the same person.’
‘Am I?’ She furrowed her brow. ‘I want to think so, and yet part of me feels different already.’
‘You suddenly know all about sheep farming?’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘Or nude modelling?’
She gave a faint smile. ‘Well, no, obviously. Thing is, Liam, I’ve always felt a little different from Roisin and Davey. I thought it was because of the age gap between us. Now I can’t help thinking it’s because we really are different.’
‘Don’t overanalyse things,’ said Liam. ‘Of course nature and nurture explain some differences. Like why you’re so devastatingly gorgeous whereas Roisin is … well, not as pretty.’
‘Liam! That’s an awful thing to say.’
‘I’m pointing out a fact, that’s all,’ he said. ‘You’re a really attractive girl, Steffie. And your biological father had to have been good-looking too, given the modelling thing.’
Steffie said nothing.
‘But outside of that,’ Liam said, ‘you’re still the person you always were. Nevertheless, if you want to look for your biological dad, there’s bound to be help you can get from various agencies.’
‘I hadn’t even thought of it,’ she said. She told him about Alivia’s search for her own father and how that had impacted on her relationship with Lucinda.
‘It’s funny how proprietorial we get over people,’ said Liam. ‘We want them to react in the way we want. But that doesn’t always happen. We hurt them and we don’t mean to. They hurt us and they don’t mean to. Yet we end up feeling bad all the same.’
‘Have you had any hurtful experiences?’ asked Steffie.
‘I’m thirty-three years old,’ said Liam. ‘It’d be weird if I hadn’t. But the way I look at it, I’ve just had to get on with my life.’
‘And you’ve made a real success of it.’
‘I’m doing what I want to do,’ he said. ‘Which I reckon is the most important thing of all.’
‘And do you share that with someone special?’ she asked.
‘Not right now,’ he said. ‘There has been from time to time, but when you’re working all the hours God sends, it’s difficult to juggle the relationship thing. You’ll understand that, working for yourself too.’
Steffie nodded, although she’d never really got to the stage where she was working all the hours God sent.
‘Of course in the restaurant you see all sorts of relationships going on,’ he added with a grin. ‘Which can cloud your view sometimes.’
‘Given that Cody’s is sort of upmarket, I guess they come for their big night out.’
‘And we do our best to make sure they have the best possible time,’ he told her.
‘Have you ever had people propose in the restaurant?’
‘A few times,’ he replied. ‘You get the guy who wants us to do a special dessert and include the ring in it. We say no. We did it once and the girl said she didn’t want dessert. He insisted and she said he wanted her to get fat again. They ended up having a row.’
‘No!’
‘And then there are the ones who organise the champagne for directly after the big moment but she turns him down.’
‘Oops. Does that happen often? That the girls say no?’
‘Not often. But they’re usually embarrassed. We sometimes wonder if they say yes just to get it over with then break it off immediately afterwards. I remember one guy whose girlfriend refused him. He stayed and drank the bottle of champagne and she went home alone.’
‘I suppose there wasn’t much left for him to do,’ said Steffie. ‘Anyhow, you’ve managed to destroy all my ideas of romantic proposals over dinner.’
‘Sorry.’
‘And my parents have destroyed my ideas of romance generally.’
‘How?’ he asked.
‘I always thought of their Roman wedding as being impossibly romantic,’ she confessed.
‘Maybe we all have impossible ideals when it comes to romance,’ he said.
‘Do you have ideals?’ she asked. ‘Do you already know what you want from your perfect girlfriend?’
‘Perfection is impossible,’ he said.
‘True. But do you have a list of requirements?’
He laughed. ‘I’ve never sat down and thought about it like that. But I have to say that Scarlett Johansson pushes a lot of my buttons.’
‘I wonder if she’s any good in the kitchen?’
‘I don’t want women fussing around my kitchen,’ he said firmly. ‘Scarlett would be perfectly welcome to disport herself gracefully in the bedroom while I go about my business with the meat cleaver and seasonings.’
‘Now you sound like the lead in a horror movie.’
‘A sort of Jack Nicholson hacking down the door to bring you fillet steak.’
‘I shouldn’t have brought up the subject of horror movies while I’m sitting above a restaurant with a selection of chef’s knives,’ said Steffie. ‘Now I’m picturing someone breaking into the kitchen and butchering us while we sleep.’
‘Good God, woman.’ Liam looked at her in amusement. ‘You have a fertile imagination.’
‘I don’t really,’ she said. ‘Roisin is always telling me I’ve none whatsoever. Horror movies scare me, that’s all.’
‘You’re creative, that probably has something to do with it.’
‘It’s a different sort of creativity,’ said Steffie. ‘And what I have, I’ve channelled into a work environment rather than an artistic one.’
‘Graphic design, you said?’
She nodded, and when he asked her to tell him more about it, she gave him a summary of how she’d got to where she was and then told him about her anxiety over the branding project.
‘A pretty chequered employment history,’ she finished.
‘Varied,’ amended Liam. ‘Don’t be despondent because you haven’t heard about the branding project yet either,’ he added. ‘I’m sure they’ll be in touch soon.’
‘I’m trying to be positive,’ Steffie said. ‘They didn’t definitely say it would be this weekend, just that they hoped to decide by this weekend. All the same, I’ve got ants in my pants! Every time my phone rings, I jump a mile. Although,’ she added ruefully, ‘that didn’t stop me dropping it earlier and forgetting it when I left the house.’
‘You were stressed,’ said Liam.
‘I keep wondering if I overreacted,’ confessed Steffie. ‘And I’m beginning to feel awful for walking out in a strop. Yet right now, I know I’m still too annoyed to go back, even if I could.’
‘I’m glad you’re forgiving them.’
‘I’m only thinking about it for some time in the distant future,’ she said. ‘I’m definitely not in the right frame of mind to talk to either of them yet.’
‘It’s a start.’
‘I guess.’ She sighed. ‘I wish I hadn’t forgotten my phone. The company might have emailed about my design proposal.’
‘On a Saturday? And it’s a little late for an email, don’t you think?’ asked Liam. ‘But tell you what, I’ll
get my laptop and you can check.’
‘Thanks.’
She allowed herself to relax into the comfortable sofa as he left the room. Liam was a nice guy, she thought. And so different to the younger person she’d once known, not only physically but also in his manner. When they were kids, he’d been grumpy and dismissive. She remembered muttering that he wasn’t one bit jolly like fat people were supposed to be. Her mother had overheard her and scolded her, saying that Liam Kinsella was a very nice boy but a little shy. He wasn’t now, thought Steffie. He was full of self-confidence, which wasn’t surprising given the success he’d made of his life.
He came back with the laptop and opened it. The home page on his browser was the Cody’s webpage, and Steffie looked at it for a moment before logging in to her webmail account.
‘No news,’ she told him. ‘Although if I give my bank account number to someone in Nigeria, they’ll send me a few million dollars.’
He laughed.
She closed the email and looked at the Cody website page again.
‘You could improve this,’ she said. ‘Not that I want to speak out of turn or anything, but it seems clunky and static.’
‘I know it’s not very exciting,’ said Liam. ‘It’s good enough for me, though.’
‘Would you say that a meal was “good enough”?’ she asked, and he looked at her abashed. ‘Can people book online?’ she continued.
He shook his head. ‘Too complicated to get it right.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ she said. ‘It’s easily done. And you should …’ She stopped. ‘Sorry. I get carried away sometimes.’
‘Can I see your own site?’
‘Of course.’ She opened the page for him and handed him the laptop.
‘Oh wow,’ he said as he looked at the image of a butterfly on a leaf and then began to click on the links. ‘It’s excellent. I love the font, too. It’s really clear.’
‘I’m having a bit of a love affair with Helvetica Neue at the moment,’ she told him. ‘Which is what that font is. It looks good on lots of different designs.’
‘Would my site look better if I changed the font?’ asked Liam.
‘You could, of course,’ Steffie said, ‘but honestly it wouldn’t be great. Why don’t I do up a few designs for you, see what you think? You don’t have to go with any of them.’
‘What are your rates?’ asked Liam.
‘I wouldn’t dream of charging you,’ she said. ‘Not after everything you’ve done for me tonight.’
‘And I wouldn’t dream of not paying you,’ said Liam.
Steffie shook her head. ‘You’ve been lovely to me. It would be a thank you.’
‘We’re both professional people,’ said Liam. ‘This is your livelihood. If you do this for me, I’d like it to be a business arrangement.’
She didn’t want his business just because she’d given him a sob story about what a precarious state her finances were in. She didn’t want charity.
‘I understand,’ she said. ‘But you took me in and fed me and you’re letting me stay here, so it’s a less formal business arrangement than I have with my other clients. I’d be happy to do this for you.’
He considered it for a moment. ‘How about you do up something and if I like it and want you to develop it a bit more, I pay you then?’
‘Agreed,’ she said and suddenly sneezed.
‘God bless you.’ His words were automatic.
‘Thanks.’ She sneezed again. And again.
‘I hope you haven’t caught a cold from your walk in the rain.’ There was a note of concern in Liam’s voice. ‘How about I make you a hot lemon and honey drink?’
She shook her head. ‘Thanks, but it’s allergies. D’you have a cat?’
‘Not as such,’ said Liam. ‘But Grizzly, Mrs Brannigan’s tortoiseshell, occasionally sneaks in through the back door.’
Steffie sneezed again. ‘I have a spray that’s really good, but I left my bag at Aranbeg,’ she said. ‘However, I also have a Zirtek on my keyring.’
‘On your keyring?’ Liam looked at her in puzzlement.
‘It’s a tiny pill case,’ she explained. ‘Holds one tablet. It was a token from a Christmas cracker and it’s surprisingly useful. Normally I keep a paracetamol in it for emergencies, but I put the Zirtek in this morning in case a day in the garden was too much for me.’
‘That’s fortunate,’ said Liam.
‘Thinking ahead is not normally one of my strong points.’ Steffie rubbed her eyes, which had begun to water. ‘I think I left my keys downstairs.’
‘I’ll go and get them for you,’ said Liam.
‘It’s OK, I’ll go myself.’ Steffie stood up. ‘I can take the tablet down there. I’m a total wuss about swallowing pills without water.’
‘Sure?’
‘Absolutely. Unless you don’t want me wandering around your restaurant on my own?’
Liam grinned. ‘That’s not a problem. The lights are out, though. The switch is on the left as you go down the stairs. Try not to think about axe murderers.’
‘Idiot.’ She sneezed a few more times in quick succession. ‘Sorry about this. It comes out of the blue sometimes.’
She hurried out of the room in her bare feet, rubbing her nose and willing the sneezing to stop. Her eyes were itchy and beginning to water. She wondered if the cat was somewhere in the building.
She found the switch and flooded the restaurant with far more light than when she’d been sitting there with Tom and Bobby. Then the table had been lit by candles and a much fainter glow from overhead. She hurried over to the table and saw her keys sitting on it. She picked them up and opened the tiny case that contained the Zirtek. Really and truly, she thought as she looked at it, I should simply swallow it down. But I need a drink.
She walked through the swing doors to the kitchen. It was a professional kitchen, no doubt about it. The metal surfaces gleamed and there wasn’t a single thing out of place. Pots and pans had been put away, and the multitude of knives were carefully placed in their blocks. She tried very hard not to think of axe murderers. Then she reminded herself that she wasn’t imaginative and that nobody was going to come into the kitchen and stab her to death. She opened a couple of the cupboards. Most of them were filled with flour and spices and salt and pepper. But eventually she found one with some measuring cups and a few glasses. She took one of the glasses and filled it at the sink. She’d turned away from the sink and was just about to take a sip of water when the lights went out.
She shrieked and dropped the glass, which shattered on the floor beneath her.
The lights had gone out at Aranbeg too, although thanks to the lanterns on the veranda, the blackness wasn’t as all-enveloping as in the kitchen at Cody’s.
‘Oh crap,’ said Alivia, who’d taken the mic from a still flustered Colette. ‘Just as I was about to share my vocal talents. Now you’ll never know what you’ve missed.’
Roisin got up and started lighting more candles, while Paul suggested that the power cut was due to the flooding.
‘If that’s the case, we could be without electricity for ages,’ said Jenny. ‘I wonder if it’s local or if it’s all over the town.’
‘God knows,’ said Pascal. ‘Actually I’m surprised it didn’t go earlier. It’s after midnight now, it’s been raining for hours.’
‘We should go to bed,’ suggested Roisin. ‘It’s been a long day.’
‘Let’s give it a few minutes,’ said Alivia.
‘Where did you want us to sleep, Roisin?’ asked Colette.
‘I haven’t entirely worked that out yet.’
‘Anyone want another drink?’ asked Paul.
‘I think we’ve all had enough,’ said Roisin. ‘Even if nobody can get home tonight, they’ll be driving tomorrow.’
‘I guess you’re right,’ he conceded, as he thought of the hangover the unaccustomed cocktails would probably leave him with.
Colette murmured something about getting some wate
r and went into the kitchen. Her hands were shaking as she poured herself a glass and then moved to the veranda. She knew that Davey would be looking for her. For the first time in her life, she wanted to avoid him.
Steffie stood immobile in Cody’s kitchen, afraid to move in case she stepped on one of the shards of glass. The darkness seemed to wrap itself around her like a shawl. No matter how wide she opened her eyes, everything around her was shadowy and insubstantial. Except, she thought, for the knives on the worktop opposite her. Knives that could be wielded by the marauding thieves who’d cut the power lines so that they could gain access to the restaurant unseen.
‘Steffie! Are you OK?’
Liam was coming down the stairs; she could hear the tread of his footsteps as he descended.
‘Yes. More or less.’
A thin beam of white light forced its way through the dark. He had a torch.
‘Come on,’ he said.
‘I can’t.’
‘Why not?’
‘I broke a glass. I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t worry about it,’ he said. ‘This way.’
‘I can’t move because I’m not wearing any shoes,’ she explained. ‘And there’s glass everywhere.’
‘Oh,’ said Liam.
He walked around the worktop to where she was standing and flashed the torch on to the floor. The glass had scattered out around Steffie in small and large pieces.
‘It’s as well you stayed put,’ said Liam. ‘Otherwise it could’ve been a bloodbath that Jack Nicholson would’ve been proud of down here.’
‘My shoes are in the restaurant,’ she said. ‘Well, sandals actually. I put them at the door to dry.’
‘I wouldn’t imagine they’re dry yet.’ Liam, wearing trainers, stepped carefully over the shards. ‘Hold this.’
He handed her the torch. And then he put his arms around her and lifted her.
‘Liam, stop! What are you doing?’
‘Rescuing my damsel in distress.’ His voice bubbled with laughter. ‘From the dangers of my kitchen. Hold tight.’
His arms held her securely as he turned around.
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