Jeez. Was there to be no end to the complications?
One hour later, I sank down on my bed. I had some time before I had to collect Jamie and a spent Amber was back napping in her buggy. I had a million things that I knew I should be doing, trying to figure out what delightful oven-baked ready-meal I could give them for the tea being possibly the most urgent.
But I just wanted one little look first . . .
I flipped open the laptop and waited for the Facebook page to load.
What a horrendous morning.
What a horrendous life.
What a – wait! My hands started to shake as they hovered over the keyboard, afraid to move in case the words I was reading vanished.
Oliver Conlon: Anyone for pints tomorrow night?
Chapter 16
“Nooooooo!”
“Yes.”
“Nooooooo!”
“Yes.”
Amber stopped howling and looked at me, incredulous at the fact that I was smiling. The poor child didn’t know what way to take me today. Even her reaction that morning to the fact that I was a completely different colour, the San Tropez having had its desired effect, had been hilarious.
Oh yes, I was going all out in the preparations and was actually on my way for a blow-dry in Kutz n Kurls, the purple preening palace. Thank God my roots didn’t need doing as there was no way anyone in that salon was getting near my honey-blonde highlights.
“No,” she said quietly one last time, looking at me semi-defiantly from under ridiculously long eyelashes.
“Yes.” I smiled again and proffered the sleeve of her coat one last time.
She started to laugh at me and I knew I’d won.
Thank God. The last thing I needed was to have to explain a black eye to Oliver later on . . .
Oliver, Oliver, Oliver . . .
My stomach did a flip at the mere thought of his name. Nothing was going to get me down today. I got dizzy every time I thought about that evening.
Out.
In the city.
In a public bar.
With alcohol.
Correction – with a lot of alcohol.
To see Oliver.
I’d kept an eye on his Facebook page, and had ascertained with glee that it was a solo run (i.e. Catherine the Great was in London) and that the guys he was meeting were not GS staff, which just made things so much easier. I was also blessed that not only had Harry volunteered to come along on the mission but he had agreed to collect me at six thirty. The plan was to be already in the pub – which I now knew to be McGuire’s on the quays, before Oliver arrived.
Oliver. Oliver. Oliver!
Oh, the excitement!
And the nerves too, of course. A little part of me had to keep reminding myself that this was it. If this didn’t work, I was screwed.
It would be back to the drawing board.
It would be back to New York alone.
Enough.
This was going to work.
“So you all set then?” Harry enquired as I opened the door to him later that day.
All set? Was he being sarcastic? I’d been “all set” since brushing the last of the super-hold hairspray from my fringe at midday.
There was just one problem.
“Bloody Mark is still out on an ‘emergency’!”
Harry laughed at my furious face as I hooked both fingers on the word ‘emergency’.
“Stop panicking. There’s no way that bloke you’re hoping to bump into will be there before eight. We’ve loads of time. Stick on the kettle.”
“Oh for the love of God, not you too. What is it with the Irish and your need for hot liquids in times of crisis?” I flung a teabag into a mug for him.
“Nothing like it!” Harry winked, before delving into his coat pocket. “But this, my dear, is just for you – I think you might need it!”
In his hand was a small bottle of vodka.
“Harry! It’s only six o’clock!”
“Shush, for the love of God – down it quick before himself gets here . . . I never met such a dryshite when it comes to drink. Go on, it’ll take the edge off yeh.”
“Eh, hello? I’m technically still on duty here!”
“Sure isn’t Uncle Harry here now!” He scooped a whooping Amber up into his arms and spun her around.
“Not so sure that’s seen as a good thing around here,” I said dryly.
“Oh come on, there has to be someone fun in their lives!” He looked around. “Where’s the young fella?”
“Upstairs. I’m a bit worried about him actually, he’s –”
“Drink!” He pushed a can of Diet Coke from my stash in the fridge across the worktop.
I didn’t put up any further argument. He was right. I needed something to calm my thumping heart. I quickly sloshed the vodka into a glass, added a splash of Diet Coke and downed the lot.
Just as the front door opened.
“Soyou’re here then?” Mark grunted as he stooped to remove his boots – a new rule.
“I said I would be!” Harry answered cheerily.
“And that would guarantee what exactly?”
Harry rolled his eyes but I hadn’t time for a brotherly war so I grabbed him by the arm and said, “Car. Now.”
Mark looked at me for the first time since entering the house.
“You look different.”
My cheeks flushed scarlet, thinking the vodka had started taking effect, but remembered my hair and tan just in time.
“Thanks!” I answered chirpily, deciding to assume that different meant better. “Harry – car!”
“So you two heading out then?”
“Yes,” Harry smirked. “On a date. She mightn’t be back till lunchtime. Sunday.”
“No, we’re not!” I thumped him. “Harry’s just giving me a lift. I’m going to meet some friends. I won’t be late.”
“Be as late as you like,” Mark said bluntly. “I’m here in the morning anyway.”
“Oh yes, about that.” I took a step back in from the door. “I was talking to a girl called Ellen the other day – Ellen Higgins? Anyhow, she mentioned that Jamie used to go to Little Kickers, and well, I was wondering . . .” I hesitated, trying to gauge if I was overstepping the mark, “if you’d like to take him.”
I could see his huge shoulders visibly stiffen.
“Who says he wants to go?” he said defensively.
“Well, I don’t know – has anyone ever thought of asking him?” Now it was my turn to square up.
“Right, folks, you can continue this in the morning,” Harry interrupted. “Holly, you’re going to be late for your ‘friends’, and that would be a disaaaaaster!”
He manhandled me out the door and into the car.
“That man drives me crazy!” I spat.
“Now you know how I feel!”
“Easy now – you’re no walk in the park either – it was you that got me into this mess, remember?”
“Pardon me?” Harry stopped reversing the car for a moment and put a finger to his lips in mockastonishment. “From what I remember, I was getting you out of a mess.”
“Okay, okay, just drive!” I giggled.
Harry was such easy company. Nothing ever seemed to get him down.
“Damn, it feels good to be out!” I sighed, nestling back into the leather bucket seat.
“Domestic life not all it’s cracked up to be?”
“On the contrary, it’s every bit as bad as I could have imagined. Emma must have been a saint.” My hand shot to my mouth in horror, “I mean . . .”
But Harry was laughing.
“I know what you mean, but while she may well be a saint now, she certainly wasn’t back when I met her first. Before my brother turned her head, that is.”
“You knew her before Mark?”
“I introduced them, my dear! For all the thanks I ever got,” he added with a trace of bitterness.
“You weren’t tempted yourself then?”
&
nbsp; “Wouldn’t have mattered, she wasn’t for tempting. Once she set eyes on my charming brother that was the end of that.”
“Charming? I just don’t get it.” I was still flummoxed at the general consensus that Mark was a “catch”.
“Oh come on, don’t try to tell me you don’t fancy him just a little bit!” He laughed at the look of horror on my face. “Obviously, I mean personality aside.”
I thought for a minute. I wouldn’t say looks didn’t matter to me at all, but it was hard to judge someone on them alone. Especially when their personality was as lacking as Mark Fielding’s was. Yes, he was good-looking in a tall, broad, caveman-like way, and his eyes, when not glaring at me, were a nice, steely blue, and that day I’d caught him smiling at Amberhis smile was kind of cute if only on a what’s-seldom-is-wonderful basis . . . But no! I gave an involuntary shudder. Just no!
“Aha! I have you thinking now!” Harry goaded.
I thumped him.
“Hey, stop!I’m kidding. So tell me all about your mission tonight.”
Phew. Familiar territory.
“Well . . . I suppose it’s less a plan than a play-it-by-ear scenario. To be honest, I don’t know if I’ll be playing hard-to-get or falling into his arms.”
“Why are you so interested in this pathetic guy anyway? Oh, that’s right – I forgot you have a pre-existing habit of falling for people you work for.”
I was about to thump him again, but then I remembered Cain and my fist unclenched and fell to my side.
“I’m joking.” Harry had spotted my discomfort.
“I know. But yes, I suppose I do have a habit of repeating my mistakes. No! I don’t mean your brother,” I added hastily as his eyes widened. “Trust me, he’s safe.”
“To be honest, I can’t see him ever being interested in anyone again, not that anyone would put up with him for that matter.”
“I hear they were a lovely couple.”
He thought for a minute.
“They were an odd couple. Emma was so full of life – she was really good fun, always up for a laugh – and well, you know what he’s like.”
“Even then? I presumed this was all as result of, well, you know, everything . . .”
“Huh. You’d like to think. Mark has been Mark for many a long year. We always clashed. As I told you before, when Dad died I was only twelve, which made Mark fifteen and, well, it was like the weight of the world descended on his shoulders. He was such a martyr – and no one asked him, you know, he took it all on himself. And couldn’t understand why I wasn’t the same.”
“What did your mum think?”
“To be fair to Mam, she was tired of telling him to relax. He just wouldn’t listen. He was unbearable.”
“So what happened?”
“I fucked off travelling any chance I got.”
I laughed. “I knew you looked like a surferdude!”
“Snowboarder dude, my dear!” he corrected me. “God, it drove Mark mad. ‘You’re never around for Mam – you’re such a waster’,” he mimicked his older brother.
“Where’s your mum now?”
“She’s living it up in Kilkenny, would you believe? Took a transfer down there about seven years ago. She’s very independent. Still works away in the Civil Service and lives in a lovely apartment five minutes from her job. If Mark had his way, we’d still all be living together in some farmhouse in Laois, holding hands around a pot-belly stove. But seriously,” he sighed, “this topic wears me out. Tell me about your family – I bet they’re great.”
I snorted. “Let me see, where do I start?”
Chapter 17
By the time we arrived, the bar had conveniently slipped into that Friday night lull stage where the after-work-drinkers had gone home and the night-time-revellers hadn’t yet arrived. Therefore we had no problem finding a seat at a perfectly placed table midway between the door and the bar.
“So what’s the deal?” Harry asked as we took our seats, me sitting facing the door. “Am I your brother, your cousin, your lover, your husband or . . .” he winked, “your new boss?”
I laughed. “As I said, let’s just play it by ear – he mightn’t even come.”
A wave of panic engulfed me as the worst-case scenario sped through my mind.
“He’ll be here,” said Harry. “Now, what about a drink?”
“Oh no, let me, I think it’s the very least I owe you.” I made to get up but he stopped me.
“Easy now, we can’t have this accountant-guy thinking I’m some sort of tight-ass.”
“Well, at least let me pay.” I shoved a twenty into his fist.
I settled back into my seat as he made his way to the bar. If I hadn’t been so uptight about Oliver, it really could have been quite an enjoyable evening. The easy friendship that had sprung up between myself and Harry was a welcome side-effect of this whole mess. But I really was on edge. This was not a pub I’d been in often, but it still felt that any minute I was going to hear Seán, or someone else from the team, roar in my ear and ruin everything. I willed Harry to come back. The last thing I wanted was to be sitting on my own when Oliver arrived.
“So what about you then?” I asked on his return.
“What about me what?”
“Well, we’ve dissected my relationship history – what about yours?”
“Feck. My history won’t keep you entertained for long.”
“You haven’t got a girlfriend then?”
“No. You offering?” He leaned forward and gave me a big cheeky wink.
“No!” I squealed.
“Good. Cos you’re not my type.”
“Gee, thanks!”
“Ah, don’t be offended. It’s your age.”
“My age! I’m only twenty-nine, for crying out loud!”
“I know. Too young. Waaayyy too young. I like my girls with a bit of mileage on them– if you catch my drift.”
“Harry Fielding! I’m shocked!”
“Ah, you know it makes sense. Sure what do you young wans want only rings and babies, and sure I’m still a baby that needs a bit of minding myself. Now, unless a girl is early twenties and too young for that whole settling-down business, but,” he sighed wearily, “that’s no good anymore either. Cos then I feel old and they just want to stay out all night partying. I’d rather be curled up with some grateful ould wan –”
“Harry Fielding!” I screeched again and swung to thump him yet again.
And at that moment, Oliver walked in.
For a second, my arm froze mid-swing but I recovered in time and managed to pretend I had no knowledge of his arrival. But eagle-eyedHarry guessed correctly from my expression that Oliver had just walked in behind him.
“Are you okay?” He slid closer down the seat towards me.
“Yes.” I hoped my smile wasn’t too wide and glassy-eyed.
“Do you want me to go or stay?”
“Don’t you fuckin’ dare leave me yet!” I hissed through gritted teeth. I took a breath. “Shit. I think I’m going to faint . . . Just keep talking!”
“About what?”
“Anything! Tell me about your latest lady-friend.”
“Well, her name is Bernadette,” he whispered conspiratorially into my ear, “and she’s eighty-four . . .”
This time the laughter was real, and I could breathe. I knew that Oliver was at the bar and I could only presume that he had seen me too. And I had no idea what I was going to do next. In my fantasies he always swept me into his arms on sight. Thank God for Harry who kept me regaled with outlandishly exaggerated tales of his past conquests. Eventually, though, our glasses were empty and it was time for him to go for refills.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay on your own?” he hissed.
“Positive,” I said, in a far from positive voice.
“Well, at least you won’t do what Sylvia did,” he whispered, as he slid out of his seat.
“What was that?”
“Well, she forgot where she wa
s and started looking for the matron. Thought it was games night in the home. She couldn’t understand why no one had a chessboard . . .”
I was still giggling when I felt someone at my shoulder.
“Do you mind me asking what exactly you’re doing here?”
Crap.
It was him.
Double crap.
I took a deep breath and turned.
“Oliver! Oh my God! How are you?”
He looked slightly taken aback at the gay formality in my voice. Considering the last time he’d seen me I was a cross between a gibbering mess and a spitting ball of fury.
“I’m fine. How are you? More to the point, why aren’t you in New York?”
“Because I changed my mind. I, eh, got a job actually, and decided not to go.”
“A job? Where in God’s name did you get a job?”
“Don’t look so shocked. I’m perfectly employable as you well know.” I tried to rein in my offense and the temptation to flirt. Light and airy, light and airy, light and airy, I kept telling myself.
“Fine then, well, thanks for letting me know.”
And with that he was gone.
I felt a wave of panic surge up through my chest but in an instant Harry was back at my side.
“You were fantastic!” Harry hissed.
“I’m shaking!” My glassy smile was returning. “Is he looking over?”
“Absolutely!” Harry smiled, then he reached forward and tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear, saying in the cheesiest attempt at a sexy voice I’ve ever heard, “Let’s get out of here, babe . . .”
“Really? Do you think?” I was starting to panic. What if that was it? What if I’d overdone the disinterest? Maybe I should . . .
“Absolutely,” Harry repeated. “Trust me – grab your coat – you’ve scored!”
I took a deep breath, grabbed my coat and followed him to the door.
And out the door.
Where I paused to slowly fasten my coat.
And down the street.
Where I paused again, willing the green man to turn red. Anything to delay . . .
To the junction, where I –
Between You and Me Page 12
