‘Well, sitting in the background of the pub pretending to talk, you know. Will I tell him you’re interested?’
‘There’s not much point,’ Anna sighed, ‘if I’m going to England.’
‘Maybe he could get you put on Coronation Street or EastEnders?’
Anna laughed. ‘Do you not think if Rich was that well connected, he’d get himself a job on one of those soaps?’
‘I s’pose,’ Grainne agreed.
‘Grainne?’
‘Mmm?’
‘Do you know Mark across the road?’
‘The good-looking fella?’
‘That’s the one.’
‘Well, not personally no.’
‘But you know who I’m talking about?’
‘Sure.’
‘Have you seen him recently with a girlfriend?’
Grainne frowned. ‘No,’ she shook her head, ‘no, I don’t think so. Why, does he have one? It’s very hard to tell. He’s always with someone, isn’t he? I wouldn’t mind him myself. He’s feckin gorgeous.’
‘I wonder has he anyone now, though . . . anyone special like?’
‘Why don’t you go over and ask him?’
‘No way. What do you think I am?’
‘Well, it would put an end to the speculation,’ Grainne was pragmatic.
The dull feeling inside Anna was growing all the time. Grainne was right. If she went across the road and rang his bell, then she’d know for sure if he was single at the moment. If he wasn’t, then what? Oh God, she couldn’t do this without any preparation.
‘Go,’ Grainne urged. ‘It won’t be as bad as you think.’
‘Right.’ Anna got to her feet. Anything to get Grainne off her case. ‘But if I’m not back in five minutes you’re to come and rescue me.’
‘Sure,’ Grainne promised. ‘By the way, not being nosy or anything, but have ya the hots for him? I mean, are you going to ask him out or what?’
Anna took a deep breath. ‘Something like that. Wish me luck, okay?’ she said, fidgeting with her fingers.
She skipped outside into the darkness, determined not to be overwhelmed by all this. Even Grainne didn’t seem to think it was much of a deal.
She walked boldly up Mark Landon’s path, her heart pounding at a furious pace. She wasn’t a bit worried. Of course she wasn’t. At the end of the day Mark would probably be over the moon. But as she pressed a trembling finger on the modern doorbell, her stomach a flurry of butterflies, she asked herself, ‘Anna Allstone, what the hell do you think you’re doing?’ She stood uneasily in the doorway, riddled with nerves, and waited for approaching footsteps.
Nobody came to answer the door.
Maybe he didn’t hear the bell. After all, the TV was on. It would probably drown out the sound of the doorbell. She went to ring again but something intervened. Waves of panic swept over her, making her turn on her heel and walk swiftly back down the path.
‘Chicken,’ Grainne accused back in the flat.
‘It wasn’t a good time,’ Anna argued.
‘Well, if you can live without knowing, that’s fine.’ Grainne grimaced. ‘Personally it wouldn’t be me.’
‘Could you not ask him for me?’ Anna asked in a small voice.
‘Me? Sure he’d think I was a nutter. Can you imagine me stomping across there demanding to know his romantic situation? Don’t be silly, Anna.’ Grainne’s words hounded her as she tossed and turned in her old bed later that evening. She was silly, wasn’t she? The management at Lolta’s didn’t think so but she knew she was. She hid it well at work. She flounced around with her sales charts and her power suits. But deep down, Anna Allstone wasn’t as brave as everyone thought. She still feared Victoria’s cutting tongue and dreaded an entire evening in her showcase home. She still chose to drive home to the safety of her parents’ house rather than pour her feelings out to Mark.
She sat up in bed suddenly craving a cigarette. Her parents still didn’t know she smoked. She dragged herself to the window, opened it wide and lit herself one. She stared out into the night. This was where she used to sit and wonder about all those guys in college that she loved. Guys that didn’t love her back. If someone had told her then, that in ten years’ time, she’d be sitting in this exact same position, worrying about more or less the same kind of thing, she probably would have topped herself !
Tonight had been her chance. Sometimes you got one shot at something. Then the moment passed. And you never got it back.
She took a long hard drag, taking care to lean out of the window to prevent the smoke sneaking back into her bedroom. She’d kept this secret for fifteen years, no point in letting the folks find out now.
She remembered feeling a bit like this in summer camp centuries ago. She’d fancied a lad called Martin O’Kelly with blond hair. He looked like the twins from BROS. All the girls used to make a beeline for him at the ladies’ choice at the ceilithe.
Anna remembered walking ever so slowly across the hall floor, her hands sweating, her face the colour of her red sleeveless jumper. But just before she reached him, she lost her nerve and asked his rather ugly friend to dance instead.
The friend had thrown back his big curly mousy head and roared with laughter.
Anna had stood facing him, rooted to the spot and realized that whatever happened to her during the rest of her life, nothing, but nothing, would ever be as humiliating as this.
‘Well, will you dance with my friend so?’ Anna had said in a desperate bid to conceal her mortification.
‘Which one is she?’ the ugly guy had sneered. Anna turned and, to her horror, realized that every other girl in the room was dancing. Everybody except her.
‘Is your friend better looking than you?’
‘Forget it,’ Anna had told him and walked away as the hoots of laughter grew louder behind her back.
So the following morning, when she jumped into the shallow end of the swimming pool and broke her foot, she didn’t feel any pain. No pain at all. In fact she was elated that she wouldn’t have to ask anybody else to dance.
She’d sat through the rest of the ceilithe with her crutches on her lap, thrilled that everybody felt sorry for her, delighted that she didn’t have to do anything but sit there and gratefully accept the sympathy.
That’s why on the very last night, when she eventually got talking to the hard-to-get Martin, she was surprised to find him very down to earth. He told her he thought she was pretty. He said he was sorry he hadn’t had the chance to talk to her before. He told her it was a pity her foot was sore so she couldn’t dance with him. And that night back in the dormitory, she’d bawled and bawled. Her friends had circled around her and asked what was wrong. And she told them it was because it was the last night and she was so sad that she wouldn’t be seeing them again. But the truth was, she was devastated that Martin had fancied her all along and nobody had told her. She was heartbroken because she knew that the following day his parents would drive up from Cork to collect him and she’d never, ever see him again. If only she’d asked him to dance that first night instead of that other fecking eejit. If only she’d followed her heart that first night.
If only . . .
But that was a long time ago. She was a child then. She hadn’t known any better. This was different. She was thirty now.
Chapter FORTY-THREE
‘It’s great to see you again, Anna. I’m so glad you rang. I’ve missed you, believe it or not.’
They were sitting in the BT2 coffee shop looking down on the throngs of shoppers hurrying through Grafton Street and colliding with bewildered tourists trying to take photos.
‘I’ve missed you too, Mark.’ Anna smiled at him. She had missed him. At least she could admit it now without feeling like it was something to be ashamed of. ‘Galway’s great but it’s not the same without you around to spy on me all the time.’
‘Ah, that’s so sweet.’ Mark gave a big cheesy grin.
The coffee shop was crowded. Anna hoped that
nobody would overhear what she was about to say to Mark. Suddenly she didn’t feel that this was the right time or place to be discussing anything serious. Wasn’t it so much easier to discuss feelings and things with a load of alcohol in you?
Anna had a three o’clock appointment with the hairdresser. She had to get this over with fast. All of a sudden she had a much better idea. It would be so much simpler just to ask him to the party now and then snog him afterwards at the party or whatever. Then it wouldn’t be so intense. She said nothing for a few minutes. Then she took a deep breath.
‘Mark?’
‘Uh huh?’
‘It’s my school reunion tonight.’
‘Ah.’ He leaned forward and stared deep into her eyes. She wanted to kiss him there and then. God, how had she resisted him all these years? ‘So it all makes sense now.’
‘What do you mean?’ Anna was confused.
‘I thought for a moment there that you had come all the way home just to meet me for coffee. I should have known there was something else going on,’ he said with a glint in his eye.
‘Well, I wanted to see you too.’
‘Ah thanks.’
‘The thing is, Mark . . .’
‘Jesus, isn’t that Johnny down there?’
‘Where?’
‘There, see over there. He’s put on about two stone. Must have given up the rugby. It often happens.’
‘Right.’ Anna was getting impatient.
‘Go on anyway, you were saying something.’
‘I want you to come with me.’
‘Where?’
‘To the reunion.’
‘You’re joking.’
‘I’m not. Partners have been invited.’
‘That’s stupid. It’s not really a reunion then, is it? I mean, a reunion is supposed to be about catching up and that.’
‘Well, it’s really more of a party. That’s why partners are being invited.’
‘And you want me to be your partner for the night?’ Mark asked, a look of complete puzzlement on his face. ‘Sure, nobody would believe that.’ He broke into spontaneous laughter, ‘You and me? That’s ridiculous, Anna. I just wouldn’t be able to pull it off. I mean, what would you want me to do? Hold your hand?’ He laughed again.
Anna felt a surge of intense irritation. She looked at her watch. It was a quarter to three. She didn’t have time for games now. ‘Yes or no?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘Sorry, Anna.’
If he’d slapped her face, she couldn’t have been more shocked. Her heart sank below sea level. She felt herself become warm and then hotter and even hotter as the humiliation became almost too unbearable to endure.
‘Why not?’ She tried to sound casual but failed miserably.
‘If I’d got a bit more notice maybe . . .’
Oh the bastard! ‘What are you doing tonight then?’ Christ, she sounded like her mother.
‘Oh, one of the girls in work got tickets for something in the Gaiety . . . some comedy, don’t ask me the name of it.’
‘Can’t you say no?’
‘No.’
‘Well, she must be really special.’ Anna knew she sounded spiteful although she didn’t mean it. She was heartbroken. And in shock. Mark had just turned her down. This was real pain. She’d never get over this. Never. Until the day she died she’d never ever recover from this.
‘She’s a nice girl. Nice looking too. Anyway I said I’d go, so that’s it.’
‘And she’s a friend, is she? Like me?’
‘She is at the moment . . . but after tonight, who knows? You know me, Anna. I’d find it way too hard to remain friends with an attractive woman.’ Anna stared, too shocked to say anything. Had he any idea what he was saying to her? She’d been his friend for ten fecking years! He must think she was a horrendous old boot!
‘Are you rushing off or what?’ he asked as she stood up.
‘I’m afraid I have to get going.’ Keep your cool, she told herself as she carefully buttoned her coat. You’ll get over this rejection somehow, like you got over Darren, Steve, Emmet, Rich and all the others. You’ll get over it. God knows how, but you will.
‘Oh, that’s a pity. We didn’t get to have much of a chat.’ He stood up too. ‘Listen, you enjoy yourself tonight, do you hear?’
‘Yes,’ Anna said, distraught. This was a nightmare. It really was.
‘And remember to keep in touch, Anna, you really are a really really good friend.’
‘And you, Mark,’ she picked up her handbag and looked him straight in the eye, ‘are a fucking prick.’
‘I just cannot believe you said that,’ Claire gasped.
‘Well, I did,’ Anna said tonelessly into the payphone at the door of the hairdressers. ‘I just lost it.’
‘I just can’t believe you said that.’
‘Would you stop saying you can’t believe what I said? What about what he said?’
‘What did he say exactly?’
‘More or less that he wouldn’t touch me if I was the last woman on earth.’
‘Are you sure you didn’t take him up wrong? Are you sure he wasn’t just getting back at you for all the times you said you were too busy for him?’
‘This is different, Claire, this is so different. I’ll talk to you later, they’re calling me over to the basin.’
‘So you’re definitely coming to the reunion anyway?’
‘Of course I am. You know me – made of steel, I am.’ Anna replaced the receiver as a lone hot tear slid down her cheek.
She wasn’t going to do anything drastic. No hair chopping or anything. Women always did that when they were suddenly dumped. But not Anna. She was going to be strong and go for a few subtle highlights, and a blow-dry. After all, it was bad enough, turning up alone without looking like she’d double-crossed a lawnmower.
‘Are you going anywhere nice?’ asked Mandy, the super skinny hairdresser with the luminous pink hair.
‘Yes,’ Anna muttered, not exactly anxious to explain her business over the noise of the hairdryer.
‘With your fella, is it?’
‘No, just out with the girls actually.’
‘Oh, is it a hen’s? I was at one last night. Me head’s still killing me. It was brilliant though. Debbie had this big L sign stuck to her bra and this stripper turned up . . .’
Anna let her ramble on without commenting, determined she’d never ever have anything so ghastly as a hen night. Mind you, what chance was there of her ever having a hen night anyway? Ha! She couldn’t even get herself a miserable date. Not even with Mark who’d no problem dating half of Dublin but had a major problem being seen with her. She tried to take no notice as Mandy yanked her hair to within an inch of its life and nearly burned the top of her head twice. Beauty meant pain. You had to suffer. Not that she realistically thought she’d ever suffer as much as she was doing now.
‘That’s lovely,’ she said, glancing in the round mirror held to the back of her head.
‘Have a good night,’ Mandy stuck her tip in the back of her skin-tight jeans. ‘Don’t go too mad.’
Don’t worry, I won’t, Anna thought. The only madness about tonight was the fact that she was turning up alone. A fruitless three-month search for Mr Right for the night had come to nothing. She had to admit the couple of hours in the hairdresser had done her the world of good even though she hadn’t actually stopped reeling from her earlier conversation with Mark. Imagine! All this time she’d thought him so charming. And to think that all he’d ever felt for her was sympathy. Good friend, me arse!
Next stop was the sunbed room. She shot through the open door hoping that nobody she knew had spotted her.
‘Hi, Anna,’ the chocolate-coloured, white-haired receptionist beamed. ‘If you’d like to have a seat. One of the beds should be free soon.’
Anna took a seat beside a young guy who looked like he was probably in a boy band. He didn’t seem remotely perturbed about sitting in a sunroom. Imagine being that cocky, Anna
marvelled.
Suddenly a door swung open and a red-faced, red-haired girl came out apologetically. God, she wasn’t brown at all, Anna thought sympathetically. What a waste of money.
The boy-band boy sauntered in, hands in his combat pockets, whistling a tune. Anna stared after him intrigued. She hoped the person in the other sunbed would hurry up. Come on, how long did it take one person to get dressed?
The door swung open again. Anna automatically rose to her feet. About flippin’ time! She almost collided into the sallow-skinned man coming out.
‘Sorry,’ he muttered without looking up.
‘Rich? Is that you?’
‘Anna!’ He looked like a startled rabbit.
‘Rich, how nice to see you.’ She gave him a wide smile. ‘You’ve got a great colour.’
‘Er thanks, Anna. It’s good to, er, see you.’
‘Likewise.’
God, he looked so uncomfortable, it was great.
‘Listen, Anna, I’d love to stay and chat but I’m rushing off to an audition.’
‘They’re looking for someone dark, right?’
‘Er . . . right.’
‘Okay, bye then. And congratulations?’
‘Why?’
‘Oh you know,’ Anna smiled at his discomfort. ‘You and Sandra.’
‘Oh yeah. You’re okay about that, aren’t you?’
‘I’m fine. Well, see you.’ She disappeared into the sunroom and closed the door firmly shut. ‘Are you okay?’ Anna mimicked as she undressed. God, the bloody nerve! Who did men think they were?
She was well rid of him anyway, she thought as she relaxed into the heat. Wasn’t he supposed to be broke? Huh! Obviously not too broke for the old sunbed sessions. Men, they were a complete waste of time.
Just as she was beginning to truly relax, the sunbed snapped itself off. Sugar. She’d enjoyed lying there sniggering at the memory of Rich’s face. At least it had taken her mind off Mark somewhat. She redressed quickly, hoping the sunbed hadn’t completely ruined her hair.
She ambled up Grafton Street drinking in the lively atmosphere. How Dublin had changed over the past few years. Apparently it was now the ‘in’ place in Europe. People of all nationalities came for weekends to party, party, party.
Mr Right for the Night Page 23
