Spin the Bottle

by Monica McInerney

  ‘It’s called lies, Lainey. You should know better than that.’

  ‘Well, it seems we’ll just have to agree to disagree,’ she said, laughing inside at her prim remark.

  ‘It seems that way.’ They sat there silent for a moment, before he spoke. ‘So, another drink, then?’

  She thought he sounded reluctant about it. ‘Great, thanks.’ She passed him her not-quite-empty glass with a friendly smile. Not exactly off to a flying start with the match made in heaven, Lainey thought, recalling Eva’s words again. As she watched him move up to the now crowded bar, her imagination picked up from where it had left off earlier…

  ‘Here you are, Lainey. Another martini.’

  He sat down beside her, a little closer than he had been before. ‘So tell me, are you finding it difficult being home?’ His eyes searched hers, as though he really wanted to know.

  ‘It’s fine. Grand, really.’

  ‘Tell me the truth, Lainey.’

  She turned until she was facing him full on. ‘I’m a little lonely.’

  ‘So, Lainey, are you finding it difficult to be home?’

  She jumped as he appeared back with her new drink. ‘No, I’m not lonely at all,’ she said, far too quickly.

  He gave her a puzzled look. ‘Oh, good. And your family, how are they all going back in Australia?’

  Did he know about her father’s accident? May hadn’t known, so he wouldn’t have either, she realised. She didn’t want to talk about it tonight. She wanted to sort out something else first. ‘They’re all fine, thank you.’ She took a breath. ‘Speaking of my family, I understand you were the witness to my aunt’s will, which is why you knew about me coming over.’

  He didn’t react as she expected – guilty or defensive. He nodded calmly. ‘I didn’t know it was going to be you, just that it would be one of your family. And I didn’t expect it to happen so soon. I really thought she’d go on for years. It was a big shock when she died.’

  He looked genuinely sad, she thought. ‘And what did you think of her idea about one of us coming back here?’

  ‘I thought it was great.’

  ‘And was it you who put this idea in her head?’

  ‘I wish I had.’ His smile disarmed her.

  ‘You wish you had. What does that mean?’

  ‘I’m all for it, bringing emigrants back to get to know their country again. There are probably other ways of doing it, though, not as extreme as your aunt’s approach.’

  Her hackles were half-lying, half-standing, awaiting further instructions from her brain. ‘So you didn’t talk her into it?’

  ‘Talk May into something?’ He laughed. ‘Lainey, there’s nobody in this country who could have talked May Byrne into doing something she didn’t want to do. I wasn’t even sure it should have been me who witnessed the will. I’d got to know her a bit over the few months I’d been collecting the oral histories, but witnessing a will seemed too formal for such a short friendship. But she insisted.’

  ‘You liked her, didn’t you?’

  ‘I did. She was bad-tempered, of course, but sparky with it.’

  The hackles retreated back under her skin. Lainey realised she’d have to confess to him that she wasn’t planning on opening the Hill of Tara theme B&B. She’d just opened her mouth to tell him when they were interrupted.

  ‘Rohan, hello there. Mind if I join you?’

  They both turned around. It was a middle-aged, ginger-haired man with a moustache. Rohan smiled up at him. ‘Bill, good to see you. Sure, have a seat. Lainey, you don’t mind, do you? Bill, this is Lainey Byrne from the B&B near Tara. Lainey, this is Bill O’Hara from Oldcastle. I was out talking to his grandfather last month for the oral history project I’m doing.’ Rohan turned back to Bill. ‘So how’s your grandfather going?’

  ‘I don’t know what you said to him, but the old fellow hasn’t stopped drawing maps of rocks and vaults and standing stones since. Now he’s got some idea of digging up the back field, convinced he might find old gold or ancient artefacts.’

  Rohan grinned. ‘And so he might. Think of the money, Bill. He’d get a finder’s fee, remember.’

  After a little while, Lainey started feeling in the way. Rohan was doing his best to include her, but she had the feeling the pair of them were just dying to get into a discussion about the football match. She was tired, in any case. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be off I think. I’ve a busy day tomorrow.’ Wishful thinking, if ever she’d heard it.

  ‘You sure you won’t stay for another?’ Rohan asked.

  ‘No, really. Thanks all the same.’

  ‘Well, good to catch up, Lainey. See you again soon.’

  They both gave her a friendly wave and went back to their pints.

  An hour later, she was in her pyjamas and about to climb into bed when the phone rang. It was Eva.

  ‘I’ve been thinking about you all night. I just had to ring. How did it go? Did you find him attractive? Sexy?’

  ‘Eva!’

  ‘Did you?’

  ‘Yes, he is good-looking,’ she admitted. ‘In a kind of old-fashioned, wild-haired way.’

  ‘And was there plenty of conversation?’

  ‘Well, yes. But we went to school together, Evie. It’s not like it was a blind date.’

  ‘But no awkward silences? Lots to talk about? Excellent.’ Eva made it sound as though she was ticking off boxes in a questionnaire. ‘So what happened exactly, from the moment you arrived?’

  ‘It was just a simple drink, really. We had a pint, a bit of a disagreement about history versus tourism, he told me he liked May and that the condition about us running the B&B wasn’t his idea and then I left.’

  ‘You had a disagreement and then you left? Just like that? You stormed out, you mean? That’s supposed to be good, isn’t it? Getting off to a dramatic start?’

  ‘I didn’t storm out. I left when a friend of his turned up and I felt in the way.’

  ‘But you had a disagreement? That could mean there’s a fiery kind of attraction between you.’

  ‘Or it could just mean we disagree about something. Eva, please stop it, you’re reading things where nothing exists. And you also seem to be forgetting the fact he has a girlfriend-stroke-partner in Munich.’

  ‘But what’s she doing in Germany if they’re supposed to be a couple? Lainey, please, be positive. Maybe he is attracted to you, and that’s why he gave up a night to meet you. There was even some big football match on, wasn’t there? I know I couldn’t get any sense out of Joe until it was over.’

  Lainey didn’t mention Rohan’s earplugs and mini transistor. ‘Tell me, Madame Eva, are those your runes I can hear you shaking?’

  Eva laughed. ‘No, I’m cooking actually. And I’d better finish it and let you go to bed and dream sweet dreams about Rohan. Keep me up to date with what happens, Lainey, won’t you? I really have got a feeling about all this.’

  And I’ve got a feeling my friend’s turned into Wanda the Witch, Lainey thought as she hung up.

  She woke up in the middle of the night, still enveloped in the dream she’d had. It had been sexy, sensuous, passionate, fast. Sudden attraction, hot kisses, naked bodies. Lying there remembering it, slowly stretching, still feeling the pleasant after-effects, she frowned. It wasn’t the dream itself that worried her. She’d thoroughly enjoyed it, in fact.

  The weird thing was it had starred Rohan, not Adam.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  ‘NO GUESTS? THAT’S APPALLING, Lainey. You’d better get a move on or we won’t get any money for it when we try and sell.’

  ‘I’m in the middle of a major overhaul, Declan, thank you very much. Excellence takes time to achieve.’

  ‘A major overhaul? Sounds like too much hard work to me. Why don’t you just take the year off and pretend that all the rooms have been full? It’s not as if any potential buyers are going to know whether you had one guest or a hundred.’

  ‘Of course I can’t lie about it, Dec. I
operate under this ancient code of conduct called telling the truth.’

  ‘Even when there is all that money at stake? Your father’s health? Your own stalled career?’

  ‘It’s really uplifting talking to you, do you know that?’

  He laughed. ‘All right, Miss Goody Two Shoes, tell your truth. But don’t come running to me for sympathy when the day of reckoning comes next February and the place sells for a pittance.’

  ‘Declan, you are evil. Tell me some news from there, would you?’

  ‘They’re all as mad as usual. Hughie has had that video camera permanently attached to his eye. He says he’s making a compelling family drama. Starring us, as usual. Ma is up the walls. Says if he points that thing at her one more time she’s going to call the police.’

  ‘Brendan and Rosie? The twins?’

  ‘Well, Rosie sends you lots of love, of course. Brendan is his usual cheerful self. Working too hard, the only one of us with any responsibilities, you know the story. The twins, well, what can I say? Still not talking in complete sentences, hardly able to walk, clearly backward.’

  ‘Declan, they’re not even two years old yet. What about Ma and Dad?’

  ‘At each other’s throats. Honestly, Lainey, don’t come back. You’re much better off over there.’

  ‘What do you mean at each other’s throats?’

  ‘Dad says he’d get up if there was someone other than a whining old harridan to get up for. Ma says he’s not depressed, he’s just lazy and won’t do anything about it. The usual carry-on.’

  ‘She’s not going to leave, is she?’

  ‘What do you care? You’re miles away. It’ll be me who has to be the dutiful son, bring over the meals on wheels to them both.’

  ‘About time you did something around the place, you lazy brat. But don’t joke about this, Dec. She’s not leaving, is she?’

  ‘Wouldn’t blame her if she did. Probably do them good to have a break from each other.’

  Lainey changed the subject. Declan was wrong, in any case. It wouldn’t do her parents any good at all to have a break from each other.

  The first opening of one of the squares on Hugh’s reward-calendar took place on a clear, crisp day. She’d woken to a blue sky, the first in days, a different, softer blue to the one she was used to in Melbourne. She knelt up on her bed and looked out the window. The trees were still bare, the rose bushes without flowers. One blue sky did not a spring make. But the fresh light lifted her spirits. Even though it was cold outside, she went around the house, opening all the windows, letting in the fresh air, her ‘Songs to Play When in a Mellow Mood’ tape sending tracks by Moby and Massive Attack drifting through the rooms.

  She put off opening the cardboard square until after breakfast, making the pleasure last. The actual moment of discovering the little Swiss chocolate was anticlimactic, in fact, even if the chocolate itself was delicious. What had she expected? Sirens to sound and streamers to come flying out from behind the cardboard square? But it was a good day. One month down, eleven to go.

  She had just hung the calendar back on the wall when the doorbell rang. She went out in time to see the postman driving off after leaving a small parcel on the doorstep. It had been sent express mail. She read the label – it was Hugh’s handwriting. She shook it. It felt like a videotape.

  She fought her curiosity until she had made a coffee, then came into the living room, put the video in the machine and pressed play. There was a crackle, a few seconds of black and white fuzzy light, and then there on the screen was a close-up of her cat Rex, a handwritten sign above him reading A Hugh Byrne Production. Rex meowed in slow motion and the scene became a pastiche of the MGM lion. Lainey laughed, leaning forward, hugging her knees, as another handwritten sign came up, taking over the whole screen.

  The Byrne Family Update

  Presented by Hugh Byrne

  The next shot showed Hugh standing in an office, wearing an appalling ginger wig and glasses, with a whiteboard behind him. He started speaking in a slow, deep voice, staring straight into the camera.

  ‘Welcome to the program. Tonight, I’m asking some important questions. How does an ordinary, Irish–Australian family cope when the lynchpin ups and leaves for Ireland to run a B&B? Who will organise them? Who will keep track of everyone’s movements? Will they be able to manage? In the first of a major seventy-five-part series, we’re going to investigate the cause and effects of The Disappearance of Lainey, the Family Control Freak.’

  Next on the screen was her mother, tugging at her dress, wriggling on one of the living-room chairs, looking a mixture of amused and embarrassed. ‘Well, at least this is better than having you leap out from behind the car. You nearly gave me a heart attack last week. Oh, it’s on, is it? Lainey, love, hello. It’s your mother here.’

  ‘She can see you, Ma.’ Hugh’s voice from behind the camera.

  ‘Oh, of course. Well, how are you, pet? I know we’ve talked on the phone but we just wanted to say hello, say we’re getting on fine. Look, we’ve had the living room painted. What do you think?’ The camera panned away for a moment, showing some fresh cream walls, then came back to Mrs Byrne. She leaned forward and started whispering. ‘Your father’s okay. No change.’

  ‘A little louder please, Ma.’

  Mrs Byrne looked behind her and then said in a loud voice, ‘No change with your father.’ A pause. ‘Unfortunately.’

  Another pause.

  ‘Keep going, Ma.’

  ‘What do I tell her, though? It’s only been a few weeks since she was here and saw us all for herself.’

  ‘You could tell her how your job at the supermarket is going.’

  ‘Oh, yes.’ Mrs Byrne beamed at the camera. ‘My job at the supermarket is going just great, Lainey. There are some marvellous new products out, which I know you’ll love. They’re called Vegie-Voomers, and they’re just terrific, freeze-dried, ready-chopped vegetables. All you have to do is add water and one beef stock cube and you’ve an instant, nutritious meal –’

  ‘That tastes like baby sick,’ Hugh interrupted.

  ‘It does not taste like baby sick,’ Mrs Byrne said indignantly.

  ‘Worse than baby sick. Dog sick. Pig sick.’

  ‘Don’t mind him, Lainey. Your father’s had it for dinner the past three nights and he hasn’t complained at all.’

  There was a flash of static and then Brendan and Rosie and the twins appeared, sitting on their own sofa at home. Brendan was clearly unhappy about being dragged away from his recycling for something as frivolous as a video message and Rosie just looked uncomfortable. They looked like a before ad for marriage counselling, Lainey thought, trying not to laugh. On their laps, Chalk was grizzling, Cheese smiling obligingly.

  ‘You can’t just sit there,’ Hugh’s voice floated in. ‘Can you send Lainey a message, say something?’

  Brendan looked crossly in Hugh’s direction. ‘Well, you haven’t said Action or whatever the hell it is you’re supposed to say, have you?’ Rosie glanced at Brendan, then in the vague direction of the camera. ‘Hi, Lainey, hope it’s going well.’

  ‘Yeah, hi, Lain.’ Brendan half-heartedly made Cheese wave, while Rosie tried to soothe Chalk, who was now wailing like a banshee.

  Another flash of static, then Declan appeared on screen, filmed outside his school, coming out of the gate with an attractive young woman – another teacher, Lainey guessed. He spotted Hugh and came over towards the camera. ‘Hugh? What are you doing here?’ There was a mumbled conversation, Lainey heard Hugh mention her name and then the camera went into a close-up of Declan’s face.

  ‘Send her a message? Oh, my pleasure.’ He dropped his voice to a low and mournful tone. ‘Lainey, oh, Laineyovich, things just aren’t the same without you here. Wide shot please, Hugh.’ The picture went wide. ‘See these empty plains around me. These empty schoolyards? That’s how my heart feels without you close by me. It’s an aching nothingness. A gaping wasteland.’

  Hugh’s
voice spoke off camera. ‘A sandy desert.’

  ‘A sandy desert. Yes, I like that too. Hurry home, sister dear, and bring that money, won’t you?’ He twirled an invisible moustache – ‘And now back to where I was before I was so rudely interrupted.’ With that he walked back to the female teacher and put his arm around her, turning to wink salaciously at the camera.

  There was an unsteady edit, then her father came into view, lying in bed, the light dim around him.

  ‘Dad, any message?’

  ‘Feck off, Hugh, and leave me alone.’

  ‘You really want to tell Lainey that?’

  There was a silence, then her father’s voice. ‘I can see that red light. Are you using that bloody camera thing again?’

  ‘Any message for Lainey?’

  ‘To hurry home so we can send you off in her place.’

  Then it was back to Hugh in front of the whiteboard, beaming at her. ‘That’s it for now. Don’t forget about the reward-calendar and we’ll see you next month.’

  There was a crackle, then a sudden storm of white fuzz and then a weather map appeared, fronted by a perky young man in a suit. Lainey thought it was Hugh again before she realised he’d taped over a TV program. She kept watching as there was another crackle, a flash of pictures and then the tape went black again. Lainey leant back into the sofa, feeling better than she had for the whole month. She wasn’t on her own doing this. She was part of a family, doing all this for them. She picked up the phone to ring and thank Hugh right there and then. He was still her little darling after all.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  THERE DEFINITELY WAS A mouse. It had kept her awake the night before, scampering about. She’d eventually given up on sleep, deciding instead to hunt it down. In her half-awake state, tiptoeing around the rooms hunting the animal, she was Sheena of the Jungle, tracking down lions. But her quarry had given up for the night, heading back to its lair or mousehole or wherever the hell it lived. It had left behind a charming calling card, though, she discovered – several neat little lines of poo. She decided to leave them there till morning and went back to bed, before realising a half-awake state was the best time to deal with it. With a sigh she climbed out of bed again, swept them up and threw them outside.