‘That’s sorted then, I’ll phone and organize it tomorrow,’ said Grace. ‘We’ll combine and give it to her between us. We can each put in a bit. What about booking Roly’s for her birthday lunch? She always loves it there and it means Evie can come along too.’
‘OK, time for dessert.’ Anna smiled nervously as she collected the empty plates and disappeared to the galley kitchen to take the sticky toffee pudding she’d made out of the oven. She’d never made it before and wasn’t sure how it would turn out, but it looked great. She sighed with relief, grabbed the vanilla ice-cream from the freezer and brought them to the table.
Her sisters greeted the pudding with raptures, leaving Anna totally bowled over by the satisfaction of creating a perfect meal as she watched her sisters lick their bowls in utter silence.
For their part Sarah and Grace were surprised by Anna’s sudden conversion to the delights of cookery, which she had resisted for so long.
‘Well done!’ they congratulated her, both now definitely convinced that Rob O’Neill was working some kind of transformation on Anna.
Chapter Forty-seven
Sarah had been basking in happiness ever since she came back from London. She was feeling better about herself than she had in a long, long time; instead of feeling a failure she had begun to realize that writing and illustrating books for children was something she was good at and if she was prepared to work hard at it it could possibly become her career.
She had called at the mews all excited to tell Angus her good news about the book and the drama about Evie’s arm, and was disappointed to find he wasn’t there. She had left a message on his phone and sent him a text, only to be disappointed by a simple congratulations reply. He was in Scotland for a few weeks, he told her, and wasn’t quite sure when he’d be back. She was hurt. She liked Angus and she thought that he liked her too. Well, if he wanted to play it cool after the night he babysat and act like nothing had happened between them, then that was fine with her! Let him have his life in Edinburgh with Megan, their perfect couple life. She was used to guys thinking she was fair game because she was a single parent, used to constantly being on her own! She didn’t need a boyfriend or a man in her life to make her feel good. She had Evie and at long last things were looking up for her.
Mrs Boland, the school principal, and the rest of the school staff were delighted for her and she sensed a new respect from them since her trip to the UK.
Evie was due to start her school holidays soon and Sarah was looking forward to her annual trip to the cottage in Connemara with her mum and Evie. She loved the summer and maybe if some of her publishing money came through she could afford to take Evie away to Eurodisney for a weekend, give her a real treat.
She had stayed up late watching a weepy love story, and was just wondering why she put herself through emotional turmoil when she already had enough of it in her own life, when she heard a commotion out in the back yard. Maybe it was a cat or a fox – or a prowler! She jumped up anxiously from the couch, checking the back door to make sure that it was locked.
She switched on the outside light and peeped out of the window, prepared to catch the burglar or intruder in the act, only to see Angus Hamilton blinking at her instead, looking much the worse for wear. He had stumbled over a pair of pink roller skates that Evie had abandoned on the path and was slumped on the ground near the washing line.
‘Oh Angus, I’m sorry,’ she apologized, unbolting the door and rushing out to him. ‘I told Evie to put her skates away. Are you hurt?’
‘Don’t think so,’ he said slowly, patting his thighs and side. ‘Nothing broken anyway,’ he added, trying to stand up.
She could smell beer on his breath as she went to help him and he looked shattered. He’d dropped his bag and laptop case on the grass. He must have just got back from Scotland and gone drinking somewhere en route home. He looked stressed as well as tired, and his jet-black hair fell over his face as he got up and tried to brush himself off.
‘Everything OK?’ she asked.
‘I’ve had better weeks.’ He grimaced. ‘A fortnight in head office is a bit of a head-wrecker and I had something important to sort out with Megan.’
‘Come on, let’s get you home,’ she said, lifting his bag and computer case and getting him to follow her along the path to the mews. She watched as he turned the key, opened the door and dealt with the alarm, noticing how long his fingers were.
‘God, I’m beat,’ he said, flopping down on the leather chair.
‘Maybe you should just go to bed, Angus?’
He ignored her and picked up the remote. He flicked on the TV, punching through the channels aimlessly.
She retreated into the small neat kitchen and switched on the kettle. She’d make him a quick coffee and then get back to Evie. She opened his fridge only to find a disgusting half-finished litre of milk which had gone sour. She binned it and made him a black coffee instead. Into it she ladled two heaped spoons of sugar.
‘Take this,’ she said, sitting down near him. ‘You’ve had a fall and a shock.’ She watched as he sipped it wordlessly.
‘Now come on, Angus, go to bed,’ she ordered, as if he were a little kid.
‘I’m fine here,’ he protested, stretching out, kicking his shoes off and yawning.
‘No, you’re not. You are going to bed,’ she insisted.
Disgruntled, he followed her as she led him up the narrow wooden stairs to the bedroom. It was tidy and clean, the bed orderly with a white quiltcover and pillows and a tartan throw on top, the shelves filled with his stacks of CDs.
‘Bathroom, then bed,’ she said.
‘Yes, Mam.’
She sat on the edge of the bed waiting till he reappeared, watching as he flung his black leather jacket on the chair and dived for the bed in his shirt and trousers.
‘Angus, take them off!’ she prompted.
He made a half-hearted attempt and failed. Leaning over, she helped him. He’d got a grass stain on his trousers and the makings of a big bruise on his side.
‘Get in beside me,’ he said drunkenly. ‘Come on!’
‘Not tonight, Josephine,’ she laughed, fixing the quilt over him and hanging up his jacket and trousers. Almost at once his breathing got heavier and his snores filled the room.
A good night’s sleep would work wonders. She left the lights on the landing on and one downstairs in the mews before heading back down the path to her own door. Angus would have a hell of a hangover tomorrow, that was for sure, she thought, locking up and going to her own bed.
He’d phoned while she was at work, leaving a message, and surprised her a few hours later by calling at the door when she was putting Evie to bed.
‘How’s the head?’
He squirmed. ‘Bad.’
‘You tripped over Evie’s skates, do you remember that?’
‘I’ll live. Anyway, I just called to say thanks.’
‘I was just being neighbourly,’ she said softly.
Taking in his forlorn features and hangdog expression, she momentarily considered inviting him in but her better judgement decided against it.
‘I’m just putting Evie to bed,’ she explained.
‘Look, I won’t hold you up then, but I just wanted to know if you would like to have dinner this weekend.’
‘Dinner?’ she said, surprised.
‘You know, two people sitting across the table, with good food on plates, a bottle of wine, some music and maybe a candle?’ he said coaxingly. ‘I thought it might be a fitting tribute to the newly contracted author illustrator.’
She smiled. ‘That sounds nice.’
‘I’ll cook us dinner in my place or we can go out, whatever you want. What about Friday?’
Dinner alone with him in the confines of the mews might not be the best idea given he had a girlfriend, she reminded herself. A restaurant would be a lot safer.
‘Out would be nice,’ she found herself saying.
Sarah had taken a bit of care
with her appearance, opting for the floaty pink and turquoise Avoca patterned skirt that her sisters had bought for her birthday last year and a little white string top with the new pink wrap cardigan and a gorgeous pair of rose-coloured high heels she’d treated herself to in London. Evie was already fast asleep, her mother ensconced with the remote control watching the television. She had jumped at the chance of babysitting.
‘I’m glad to see that Angus has finally had the good sense to ask you out for a celebration meal,’ she said with a twinkle in her eye.
‘Mum, for heaven’s sake, will you stop matchmaking? Angus and I are just friends, you know that. It’s lonely for him stuck here in Dublin with his girlfriend back in Scotland. We just keep each other company sometimes.’
‘Is that what they call it?’
‘Mum, honestly, your generation are obsessed with love and romance. Nowadays men and women can just be friends.’
Maggie Ryan held her tongue, for once not stating the obvious.
Angus took her to Chapter One, the award-winning restaurant situated beside the Writers Museum on Parnell Square.
‘I thought it might be an apt place for a literary celebration,’ he teased as they were led to their table.
The menu was fantastic and Sarah was in a dither about what to order, opting for the seafood pancake followed by monkfish in a champagne sauce as Angus ordered a bottle of Pouilly Fumé.
‘Here’s to Mitten – that wonderful Kitten!’ he toasted. ‘I promise I shall be first in line in my local bookshop to buy it.’
‘Don’t be silly, you don’t have kids.’
‘I have a godson, Jack,’ he protested. ‘At his last birthday he was three. And I have a niece and a nephew. Anyway, I can keep it for when I have children.’
‘I’m sure you’ll have loads.’ She smiled. ‘I mean you and Megan.’
He didn’t answer and she presumed he wanted her to mind her own business in terms of his relationship plans with Megan. Point taken. She speedily attempted to divert the conversation.
She regaled him with the tale of her trip to the publishers and Jilly’s book offer and how good Evie had been in her absence, until she realized how quiet he was being.
‘Is your meal OK?’ she asked, concerned.
‘It’s about Megan,’ he said, putting down his knife and fork and looking directly at her.
‘Listen, Angus,’ she apologized, ‘I’m sorry. I’ve overstepped the mark totally, making comments about the size of your family. Your and Megan’s plans have absolutely nothing to do with me. Maybe she doesn’t want kids, or wants just one, or you’ll have a football team. I don’t know . . . I know from what you’ve told me that she’s a lovely girl.’ She was prattling on in embarrassment.
His fingers caught her wrist, forcing her to stop talking. ‘Megan and I have broken up,’ he said slowly, his expression serious. ‘It’s over.’
‘What! I don’t believe you.’
‘She’s a great girl; she’s done nothing wrong. It’s just that I’ve discovered the life that I had planned out is now heading in a totally different direction and that Megan is not the person I want to share it with.’
‘Angus, I’m so sorry,’ Sarah said, stunned, taking his hand. ‘I know how much you loved her. You two were made for each other.’
‘That’s just it, I’m not sure that we were,’ he explained, his face serious. ‘I had to go to Scotland because James and I are signing off on a big media project. Megan and I got a chance to talk, spend time together.’
Sarah suddenly felt sorry for the Scottish girl; Angus had probably broken her heart.
‘Normally when I go home at weekends it’s always the same thing; Megan and I go out to parties and dinners and clubs and see friends. We never seem to have enough time to be on our own or just to sit down and talk. Megan knew it too. We had both got so caught up with things, stupid commitments to family, work; there was always some sort of excuse.’
Sarah sighed. If she loved someone all she’d just want to be around them, talk to them, go for walks, hold their hand, lie on the couch watching TV and telling each other stories and jokes.
‘Funny thing is Megan was feeling the same, the very same,’ he said, his gaze unwavering. ‘That’s why she wouldn’t move over here to Dublin with me. It’s weird, we’ve known each other since we were thirteen and yet maybe we didn’t know each other at all. We started going out when I was seventeen; our families have known each other for years, my dad plays golf with her dad. Then we went to Edinburgh University together. We just became a couple without really thinking about it. Everyone assumed we were going to get married and live happily ever after!’
Sarah didn’t know what to say.
‘That was part of the reason I came here to Dublin, I guess, just to do something different. The physical distance between us made us both realize that the relationship wasn’t as strong as we had imagined. I didn’t miss her the way I first did,’ he admitted slowly. ‘I didn’t feel the need to go to Edinburgh to see her every weekend, and the three weekends she came over here to me we were in a crowd, for the rugby, St Patrick’s, apart from those few days we went to Galway. Then I began to think of someone else . . .’ he added, ‘and I wanted to be with her all the time instead of being with Megan.’
Sarah could feel her breath catch in her throat.
‘Sarah, I couldn’t get you out of my head. I wanted to be here in Dublin with you all the time. I didn’t want to leave you.’
What was that crazy Scotsman saying? That he fancied her, wanted her? She couldn’t believe it.
‘I wanted to kill that guy Ronan when he asked you out! I’m not the jealous type – well, I didn’t think I was. I felt a right fool after that night babysitting in your place. I wanted more – you know that. You deserve better. I didn’t want to pretend any more, I knew I had to tell Megan.’
Sarah stared into his eyes; he was telling the truth. She could see it, clear as the wine glass she was holding.
‘Megan said she’d already guessed,’ he explained. ‘She said she could tell. It was bloody awful but we’d both felt it coming. She’s kind of got a thing for one of the guys in her office. He’s older, always asking her out, but she was nervous too, couldn’t let it go any further because of us.’
Utter silence fell between them, taken up with the clatter of the restaurant and the people at the tables around them talking and eating.
‘Are you sure?’ asked Sarah. She had no intention of coming between them if there was something left of the relationship.
‘It’s over with Megan, I promise. I wouldn’t say it otherwise. Megan and I, we’re friends, old friends, and she will always be special to me but there is nothing more to it.’
She stared down at the pattern on the plate, at the vegetables and the baby new potatoes tossed in herbs. Angus didn’t have a girlfriend, she told herself. He didn’t have a girlfriend any more.
‘If you just want to stay friends, the way we were, I’ll understand,’ Angus said slowly, his eyes darting around nervously. ‘But I’m mad about you. From the first day when I came to see the mews and your mother made you show me around the place I fancied you. I watch you going in and out to put the washing on the line in the mornings.’
‘Angus, I’m in my pyjamas!’ she protested.
‘You look cute,’ he said firmly. ‘To me you always look cute.’
She grinned, the smile spreading all over her face. Angus Hamilton really fancied her. He fancied her big time. She could tell by the way he was looking at her and holding her hand.
‘We’re already friends,’ he said, his thin face serious, ‘but I want more.’
Sarah could feel her eyes well with tears. She was such a stupid eejit. Angus was kind and funny and made her laugh and Evie and he got on really well. He wasn’t like any of the other guys she’d met. Evie’s existence had never bothered him, not in the slightest, and when he was around he made her feel safe and relaxed. He was fun and attractive and
now, the best thing of all, he was available.
‘Me too,’ Sarah replied, deliberately, her gaze meeting his.
Chapter Forty-eight
Ever since Leo had died Maggie had found it hard to manage the constant repairs and upkeep an old house like this needed. Painting the woodwork, staining the back fence, coating the railings with rust-proof paint, pruning the conifers and large trees, oiling the locks and bolts about the place. Leo had looked after a hundred million manly things without complaining or saying a word and now she was landed with it all. The bathroom tap had been dripping for weeks and the last few days she could hardly sleep with it. On top of that the fitting for the shower head needed to be replaced and the sink in her utility room was blocked. She had tried to get a plumber only to be told he was booked for the next few months. Enquiring round she was told that getting a plumber to come and do a few small jobs was nigh on impossible.
From her sitting-room window Maggie watched daily the constant flow of workmen – carpenters, plumbers, electricians, plasterers and painters – renovating the O’Connors’ old house. Mark McGuinness himself had been absent for the past few weeks and, seeing his big black Range Rover parked outside in his usual spot again, she decided to take matters into her own hands.
He had looked surprised when she had knocked on his door explaining the problem she was having with regards to a plumber, and amused when she invited him to lunch in her house.
‘I’ll see what I can do about the plumber,’ he said, ‘and I usually take a break about twelve thirty, if that suits you for lunch.’
‘Ideal,’ said Maggie.
Two hours later he had appeared just as he promised and before they sat down to eat Maggie showed him around the house, highlighting her plumbing issues. Mark admired all the work Leo had done: the coving in the hall, the restored staircase, the plasterwork on the ceilings and the hand-painted kitchen that Leo had insisted suited the old house.
She had prepared a simple lunch of salad, slices of oak-smoked salmon and her own homemade brown bread. She told him about speaking to Tom and Detta recently on the phone.
The Matchmaker Page 26
