What Happened to Us?

by Faith Hogan

  He stood for a few minutes, deliberating. He knew, on some level, that he would be further out of his depth in there than he had been earlier. This was where the beautiful people were hanging out. This was the glamorous Dublin where everyone was successful, beautiful and rich. In Kevin’s experience, there had always been a great divide. He’d never been one of the cool crowd. He’d never been a party animal, and even with his success, he was not part of the in-crowd like some of the other big restaurateurs around the city.

  That was part of the reason he and Carrie worked so well. Carrie would trundle through that room oblivious to who was cool and who was not. Carrie never measured people like this, so these events never fazed her. She just took people as she found them and, miraculously, they seemed to do the same with her. Carrie could navigate this room fearlessly. With Carrie by his side, he would have been fine. He could have stood beside her, laughed at whatever jokes were told and they’d make a steady beeline from one end of the party to the other. She’d insist on meeting everyone, and then they’d go home to their boring but safe existence far from anyone who intimidated Kevin.

  ‘Come on, darling, they won’t bite,’ a blonde girl he’d seen earlier arriving with the lead singer of a boy band pushed past him. She opened the door so he had no choice but to enter in the middle of a group of people half his age and twice as confident. The kitchen was suddenly very bright and Kevin took a second to adjust to the group before him. No sign of Valentina, that was all that registered at first. He stood uncomfortably on the outer reaches of a number of conversations for what seemed like forever, but he had nothing to say to these people. Then, after what felt like forever, Valentina emerged from what he assumed was the pantry. It was the first time he’d ever seen her look dishevelled and something gnawed at him that he’d missed a step, somehow, in coming here.

  ‘Ah, Keveen, meet my new friends,’ she was almost singing. Her voice had reached such a high pitch, he thought she might top soprano notes. Then he realised, there was something different about her. He looked at the ruggedly handsome young man with her and he wondered if he’d ever know half of what went on in that pantry. One thing he knew for sure, they’d taken something and if it wasn’t cocaine, then Kevin was even more naïve than he felt.

  *

  Luke found an ancient set of chimney brushes in a small lean-to in the back yard of The Marchant Inn. Teddy scampered happily about his legs, delighted to spend time with Luke while Carrie went to work in The Sea Pear. Luke had never actually cleaned a chimney before, but he figured that the principle was simple, so long as he made sure that he contained the mess that was surely likely to follow once he started. What he hadn’t expected was how tired his arms would become. The Marchant Inn, like all of the other buildings along here, was three storeys tall, luckily, there seemed to be an endless number of attachments to the brushes, but that just meant more work.

  Eventually, with much clearing and more groaning, he managed to see light at the end of the flue. To be sure, he walked outside the pub, to the far side of the road, and there, sure enough, the end of the brushes popped into the grey Dublin air at the top of the chimney. After all the hard work, Luke filled with a giddy sense of elation – he shook his head as he walked back into the pub. It seemed silly, that such a menial task could make him so happy. Then again, he had a feeling that it wasn’t the actual cleaning of the chimney that counted; it was the idea that it would make some kind of real difference to Jane Marchant when she returned here. A fire in the grate, what could be more welcoming than that?

  He set about clearing up the mess of soot and ancient birds nest that gathered in a pile in the grate. A low, warning growl from Teddy broke into his thoughts and Luke turned to see two unsavoury-looking characters watching him from the doorway.

  ‘You are closed?’ the stockier of the pair said through thin lips, surveying the bar with narrowed eyes.

  ‘Yes, I’m afraid we’re closed for another few days, we’re doing a bit of an overhaul.’ Luke stood up and moved away from the grate. ‘Can I help you?’ he enquired, although, he couldn’t see them standing at the bar shooting the breeze with Jane.

  ‘No, we thought we might have a proposition for the owner, she is not about, is she?’

  ‘Emm, no, she’s away on holidays actually, can I help?’ Luke moved towards them, they were each built like Sherman tanks, angular and hard, and their eyes darted about the pub, as though they were on a reconnaissance job and filing every corner to memory.

  ‘Ah, and you? You are here also?’ the greasier of the two poked his head forward as though it might soften his words.

  ‘Yes. I’m always about the place,’ Luke lied. Up close, he was taller than the two of them, but they had a street meanness to them and he had no doubt, that in the wrong place or at the wrong time, even he’d be intimidated by them. ‘Your proposition… you’re…’

  ‘Oh, we are security consultants, we are visiting all of the businesses in the area, we are…’ he showed his teeth in what was meant to be smile.

  ‘You’re not Irish?’ Luke moved a little closer to them, but they wouldn’t meet his eyes.

  ‘We are Colombian,’ the stockier one drew out the word lazily. ‘But we are here so long, it feels like we are more Irish than the Irish,’ he laughed, an empty barrelling sound that was more cruel than jovial. ‘We are all legal, if that is what you’re wondering, our business is legit.’ There was an undercurrent of menace and it reeked not just from his words, but from his pores.

  ‘Well, if you want to leave a card…’ Luke walked to the door, opened it for them pointedly, ‘but, as I say, we’re not open at the moment, and since I’m always about, I think we’re pretty much good.’ He knew there would be no card, there would be no names for these men, but he would remember their faces and the street tattoo that ran along the second man’s neck and down towards his chest, and he’d be keeping an eye out for them. When they left, he closed the door and pulled the bolt, yes, he could see why Jane might be nervous here on her own all right.

  Eight

  ‘You seem very happy with yourself,’ Anna said. They were drinking mojitos in a small Mexican bar before going for dinner.

  ‘Do I?’ Carrie wasn’t aware if she was happy or sad. But now that she thought of it, she wasn’t exactly pining for Kevin these last few days. ‘Maybe it’s this red-hot Latin lover I’ve got on the side?’

  ‘Stop it,’ Anna snorted. ‘You’re going to have to come clean, you know that?’

  ‘Do I though? Really?’ Carrie laughed. ‘I’m so enjoying Kevin walking around me like he’s on eggshells. I’ll tell you, it’s really taken the condescending look off his face.’

  ‘Yeah, from that point of view, it’s no harm, but how are you going to magic some hunk for the wedding in July?’

  ‘That’s the tricky bit, all right,’ Carrie wagged her finger. She hadn’t the slightest hope she could get some good-looking man to pretend to be her boyfriend for a whole weekend. ‘To be honest,’ she said, the reality hitting home, ‘it feels a bit sad. Like something kids do, but I have to say, I’ve enjoyed pulling back a bit of my self-esteem in front of Romeo and Juliet in the restaurant.’

  ‘I’d be all for keeping it going, but you never know, there might be some decent and real human being out there just dying to go to the wedding with you.’

  ‘Oh, there is.’ Carrie shook her head. ‘My mother!’ It was true, Pamela had offered to accompany her to the wedding, but they both knew it would be a strain for her not to tell Kevin exactly what she thought of him. Neither of them mentioned the dint in her self-respect if she turned up with her mother as her plus-one.

  ‘So why the smile?’ Anna sipped her drink.

  ‘I don’t know, I suppose that I’m not unhappy, I feel…’ What was this feeling that she had? ‘I don’t know, I feel like there’s something better waiting for me, does that sound a bit mad?’

  ‘No, it sounds like you’re returning to your normal enthusiastic se
lf.’ Anna had always been a strange mix of pragmatism and joyfulness. It did not take a lot to make her smile, on the other hand, she never expected things to turn out well. ‘So, do you see a tall dark stranger in your crystal ball?’

  ‘No. Definitely not. I’m not sure I want to get into another relationship. I’m quite enjoying having the house to myself. I’m enjoying not having to be organising someone and making all my plans around them.’ It was true. She was in no rush to jump back into a relationship for the sake of it. Now that she was over the shock, and apart from the sense of betrayal, there had been a number of times when she’d actually thought to herself, Isn’t this nice! as she sat curled up on the couch with Teddy and a box set of her own choosing. She had no doubt that she’d feel exactly the same emotion on Sunday mornings for a long time to come when she remembered that she no longer had to take Maureen Mulvey to mass. ‘Anyway, as it turns out, I do have a couple of tall dark men in my life!’

  ‘You can’t count the electrician or the door-to-door salesmen as being in your life, Carrie.’ Anna smiled.

  ‘Actually I’m not. Last week I was out to dinner with one of them…’ Carrie made a face, so there.

  ‘You can’t count gay friends either.’

  ‘That’s not fair. Just because there’s no sex…’ They both laughed. ‘Andrew is great company, seriously, it’s like being out with you or Mum and he looks quite good on the arm too, I think.’ This was the moment, Carrie knew, when she should have mentioned Luke Gibson and perhaps she would have, but there wasn’t a lot to mention. What could she say? That she’d met a man who seemed to be kind and sweet, intelligent, and if you thought about how much he was spending in the bed and breakfast – obviously solvent. On the other hand, even though they’d spent quite a bit of time together, she knew very little about him other than the fact that he’d been a rolling stone for most of his life and if he had gathered any moss he wasn’t telling. Nor, she suspected, did he want to gather any at this point. It was funny though, because for all that, he made her feel connected? Luke seemed to be everything Kevin wasn’t, except she had a feeling that if she fell for him her heart could be in a much worse condition when he surely rejected her. Still, Carrie thought about him more than she should, probably, but perhaps that was just because now she didn’t have to think about Kevin anymore and maybe, that wasn’t such a bad thing.

  The restaurant was fabulous, sitting on the bank of the tiny river Dodder; low windows allowed a view of just the river, and high waters obscured the mossy walls that probably reeked a bit in warm weather. Otter’s Lodge was just the right mix of casual chic, so new and old blended as though they were puzzle pieces cut from the same picture and tastefully reassembled. As they tucked into starters, Carrie could hear the words forming in her mind that she would use to describe the Crab Benedict.

  ‘So, it’s taking off?’ Anna asked between delicious mouthfuls.

  ‘I don’t know. I mean, the first review got a lot of positive comments, but then everyone’s talking about Clair’s at the moment, aren’t they?’ It was true. The day after her review appeared a young British royal stopped by for lunch. ‘I was just lucky to have hopped on the back of the zeitgeist.’

  ‘There’s nothing lucky about it. It was a great review. Take the praise when it comes your way, Carrie. That’s always been your problem, you know. Even with The Sea Pear – you let Kevin believe that he’s the star of the show, when it would have just been like every other place that went down the plughole during the recession if it wasn’t for you.’ Anna was getting cross.

  ‘Oh, come on, don’t be like that. The Sea Pear is a partnership. But this, the blog, if it takes off, okay, I’ll take full credit. Never mind the visiting Princess, okay?’

  ‘Deal.’ Anna smiled, she’d always been a bit protective, but it was a good thing, Carrie knew that.

  ‘Does he know?’

  ‘Who?’ Carrie sipped some water; the food here really was delicious.

  ‘Kevin, does he know that you’re doing reviews now?’

  ‘I’m not doing reviews now. I’m just…’ What was she just? Would she be doing reviews all over the city? Could she? She had a feeling she’d absolutely love it, but she couldn’t keep dragging Andrew and Anna out every second week. They had lives too, after all. ‘Why? What has it got to do with Kevin?’

  ‘Well have you?’

  ‘No. He never looked at the blog, he was never interested, so why would he be bothered now?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ She opened her eyes wide, ‘Perhaps he’d see it as a conflict of interest?’ She smiled, no doubt enjoying what Kevin’s reaction might be.

  ‘Probably. If he knew, he’d want me to give them all nil points! Like in the Eurovision. He used to say it in the French accent. For days afterwards he’d drive me mad with his “deux points and dix points.” God, there are a good many things I will not miss.’ That was so true.

  ‘Wait until it takes off,’ Anna said, playing the possible scenarios to their last glorious conclusion in her overactive imagination. ‘When you’re flying all over the world. Reviewing, like some of those big gastro boys, one week New York, the next it’s Kuala Lumpur, tea at the Savoy, dinner at the Ritz…’ Anna’s eyes glazed.

  ‘I think you’re mixing me up with someone who actually knows what they’re doing,’ Carrie said drily. ‘Although, I’d love to do more of them. I’d love to be putting up one a week, but I’ve made a promise to myself – I’m not giving bad reviews. That’d be devastating for people.’

  ‘So you’re going to lie?’ Anna jumped onto the high ground with the speed of one who rarely gets the chance to speak from that lofty position.

  ‘No. I’m not going to lie. But I’m not going to include the bad ones.’

  ‘Will you tell them?’

  ‘I don’t know, I haven’t thought that far ahead yet. I think, when and if it happens, I’ll try and put myself in their shoes and I’ll decide then.’

  ‘Good move,’ Anna said stoically. ‘Although I’d say Kevin would disagree, he’d want you to only put up the bad ones.’

  ‘Oh, and don’t I know it.’ Carrie picked up her glass and toasted Anna. It was hard not to feel there were things to look forward to with Anna at her side.

  *

  Kevin couldn’t figure why, but he had a feeling things were not working out quite as well as he expected they would. He spent most of the morning convincing himself that was just stupid.

  He checked on Valentina at about eleven. She was out of it. Snoring, delicately, it had to be said, but snoring away. She’d been doing that all night. She claimed it was the shellfish. She shouldn’t touch them, had a mild allergy. Kevin had a nasty suspicion that whatever she’d taken at the party had done more than make her laugh like a hyena all evening. She’d been horribly ill when they got back, retched so loudly Kevin felt his insides churn alarmingly. Thankfully, she managed to make it to the bathroom. He hated vomit. He couldn’t look at it. Thank God they had cleaning staff at the restaurant. In the early days, Carrie took care of all that…Carrie. He thought about her for all of five seconds. There was a nagging guilt if he lingered on her for much longer.

  ‘Only natural, mate,’ Jim said that evening as they sat nursing pints in McDaid’s. Jim had clocked off for the day, while Kevin was just about to start his shift in the restaurant. ‘Haven’t been round there yet, see how she’s doing?’

  ‘Emm, well no. I didn’t like to…’ he was going to say intrude, but they both knew he was a coward and that was the only reason.

  ‘The way I hear it, she’s probably relieved to see the back of you.’

  He had a feeling that Jim was trying to annoy him. ‘Well, I’m happy for her.’ His words were automatic, there was no real feeling in them. Kevin still couldn’t imagine Carrie with anyone else. Not Carrie. Now, if it was a French poodle, an Afghan hound or an Abyssinian cat, then maybe, but actually dating someone. No, the more he thought about it, he’d believe it when he saw it. He m
entioned it to Jim.

  ‘You managed to pull a hot Colombian. If you’d asked any of us who was more likely to do the leaving we’d all have said Carrie.’ Jim snorted into his pint.

  ‘Hmm.’ Kevin might have been insulted, but even now, he couldn’t believe Valentina had been interested in him. He wouldn’t tell Jim about the party. Well, he might mention the party, but he wouldn’t say a word about the cocaine, or Valentina, or how he’d felt as if he’d stepped on a different planet. That was the truth of it, he could see it now, sitting here with Jim. This place, McDaid’s, it was the kind of place that suited him. They’d come here for years, twice or three times a week. It was close to The Sea Pear and just around the corner from the catering company Jim had set up a couple of years earlier. It wasn’t just that he’d felt uncomfortable at the party, he never liked that kind of thing. With Carrie, he’d cry out of it when he could, and if he couldn’t, they’d stick together. Carrie was a great woman to talk to everyone, work the room and then get out as fast as they could decently manage. It was obvious that he wouldn’t have that kind of support from Valentina, at least not yet. But it was early days, and, Kevin reasoned, in a few years’ time, it probably wouldn’t be her scene either.

  ‘How’s the restaurant going, by the way?’ Jim’s eyes darted from the TV screen to Kevin, for just an instant. ‘Cosy, is it?’ he smirked.

  ‘I don’t know what you mean?’ Kevin said and focussed on a match that was playing somewhere the sun was shining. But even Kevin was not so obtuse that he didn’t feel the atmosphere in The Sea Pear. It vaulted before him, like a battle line, troops were falling into trenches either side and it seemed that his ground forces consisted of just two – himself and Valentina.