How to Fall in Love (21 page)

‘If I’d known putting egg whites on my chin would fix you, I’d have done it days ago,’ I smiled.

‘You,’ he looked at me, his face alive, his eyes bright. ‘You’re a tonic. They should prescribe you for depression instead of pills.’

I was truly flattered by the compliment. It was the nicest thing he’d said to me and the closest I’d come to feeling I wasn’t in the way of his life. Instead of saying something nice, I switched into therapist mode. ‘Have you ever been on anti-depressants?’

He took a moment to think about it, reverting back to the client, the questioned one. ‘Once. I went to a GP, told him how I was feeling, and he prescribed them. But it didn’t quite help me in the way I wanted. I stopped taking them after a month or two.’

‘Because they didn’t deal with the root of the problem,’ I said.

He looked at me and I could tell he was annoyed by my comment. He knew I was going to urge him to see a therapist again and so I held back.

‘And cake-making is the perfect way to get to the root.’ I smiled.

‘Of course, because you know exactly what you’re doing,’ he said gently.

‘Of course.’

We were silent for a while and I wondered whether this was the moment to admit that I felt way out of my depth, or whether him hinting at it was acknowledgement enough. As if sensing what was coming, he snapped out of his trance and broke the silence.

‘Right, let’s get icing.’

Before decorating our cakes, we first had to take them out of the oven. Ours was the only cake in the whole class to collapse in the middle. Almost magically, before our very eyes as soon as it hit the air, the centre collapsed in a little
poof
.

In turn, we collapsed into such hysterics that I almost wet myself and we were politely but swiftly asked to leave.

15

How to Reap What You Sow

En route to Maria’s birthday celebration dinner in Dublin’s city centre we stopped at a Spar
to decorate her cake. We were still giddy, almost in a drunken state, laughing at every minor amusing thing that happened, both of us having been starved of such emotions for too long. Adam carried the heart-shaped sponge cake with the collapsed uncooked mushy centre and a burned ring on the outside.

‘This is the ugliest cake I’ve ever seen,’ Adam said, laughing.

‘It needs a little face-lift, that’s all,’ I said, prowling the aisles. ‘A-ha!’ I picked up a can of spray cream and shook it.

‘Hey!’ the shopkeeper called out angrily. Adam immediately whipped out a wad of notes, and the shopkeeper silenced his protestations.

Adam held the cake while I sprayed. The first application was a disaster; I hadn’t shaken the can enough and the cream exploded in a disappointing puff of air, spattering the cake and Adam’s face and hair.

‘I’d say that’s twenty per cent on the cake, eighty per cent in my face.’

This sent me into stitches and it took a good few minutes before I could steady my hand enough to have another go. I was more successful with the second attempt and covered the top in spray cream. When I’d finished, Adam looked at it thoughtfully. Then he brought the cake over to the pick-a-mix and scooped up some milky teeth, then with a not-so-steady hand, he sprinkled them across the surface.

‘What do you think?’ He showed it to the shopkeeper.

The long-haired hippy was unimpressed. ‘It’s missing something,’ he said.

I laughed. It was missing a lot of somethings.

‘I’d add some crisps,’ he said eventually.

‘Crisps!’ Adam held a finger in the air. ‘That is a great idea.’

He directed me to open a packet of Hula Hoops, which I sprinkled over the top, and then I stepped back to survey my work.

‘Perfect,’ he said, studying it from all angles.

‘It’s the worst cake I’ve ever seen in my life,’ I said.

‘Exactly. It’s perfect. She’ll know I made it.’

Before we left, Adam stuck a football-shaped candle in the middle, with a happy, ‘She hates football,’ and we returned to the chauffeur-driven car.

We stood outside Ely Brasserie and watched Maria and her friends through the window as discreetly as we could without being seen by them or being asked to leave by staff. It was freezing outside, small flakes of snow were beginning to fall. My feet were numb, my lips would barely move, my nose had long ago fallen off my face, or at least it felt like it had.

‘Today I’m feeling
… fucking freezing,’ I said, and it earned a smile from Adam, our earlier hysteria having retreated for warmth. ‘Do you know those girls?’ I asked, barely able to move my lips to form the shape of my words.

Adam nodded. ‘They’re her closest friends.’

They were all pretty, fashionable women who turned plenty of heads but didn’t seem to notice as they were locked in on each other, huddled together in the corner of the restaurant as they caught up on life, love and the universe. I couldn’t take my eyes off Maria. Again the trademark red lips and the sleek black bob, and this time she was on trend in a stylish black leather dress. She was perfect. She chatted to each of her friends, seemed amusing, interesting and empathetic to whoever was talking. The only time I moved my eyes away from her was to watch Adam watching her, and it was clear she was having the same effect on him. She was hypnotic, the kind of woman most eyes would be drawn to. And she was nice. That was the killer. I resented her more than ever, but she was the perfect girl for a man like Adam. The two of them made a striking couple, their beauty equal and yet distinct, each of them quirky and unique. Adam couldn’t tear his eyes from her, but he looked sad, as though losing her had taken away his soul, his everything.

I backed away a few steps and looked around, stamping my feet to get warm, anything to shake off this feeling of being an imposter or a gooseberry. What had gone so wrong in my life that I’d resorted to standing outside a restaurant and watching a beautiful woman living a life I was currently envying – and not only for the warmth? It was ridiculous and I felt like an idiot, a loser at the highest level. Suddenly I didn’t want to be there any more.

‘At last!’ Adam said as the table was cleared for dessert.

I had delivered the cake into the restaurant. It hadn’t been a difficult task, explaining to staff while trying to keep out of sight, that it was a surprise for the already seated birthday girl. The waitress had taken one look at the cake and laughed. Now we watched as four waiters began the procession to Maria’s table. Adam crossed the road and approached the window to get a better view. Maria looked up in surprise, then glee as surrounding customers joined in the birthday song. I noticed some of her friends at the table throwing questioning glances at each other, trying to find out who had arranged the surprise. And then the cake was placed before Maria and she looked at it in confusion, the great big mess on the plate with cream, milky teeth and Hula Hoops that had turned soggy from the cream. For a moment she wore a neutral expression, as if politely maintaining a look of appreciation so as not to offend the unknown maker, then she made a wish and blew out the candle. She looked to the girls to see who had arranged such a thing. There were more shrugs and laughs, then she questioned the waiters to make sure they had the right table. Adam watched them, anxiously, and I hoped that Maria would get that it was from him, so I wouldn’t have to hold him back from running into the restaurant to explain it.

‘Look, Maria, look at the teeth and Hula Hoops,’ he urged her, quietly so that only I could hear.

‘They have a significance?’ I asked, surprised. I thought that he had randomly emptied packets on the top, I never sensed there was a reason to what he chose.

His eyes never left the window, but he’d heard me and he was answering in a distracted tone that made me feel I was in the way, that he’d rather not have bothered answering my question. ‘On one of our first days out together she came to watch me play football. She was on the sidelines, the ball hit her face, chipped her front tooth. I bought her milky teeth so she could wear them on the way home, and I sucked her Hula Hoops until they were soft because her tooth was too sore to bite.’

Apparently reliving the story Adam was sharing, Maria looked up from the cake, understanding dawning on her face, and started laughing. She then calmed herself to tell the other girls. Although he couldn’t hear, Adam laughed along with her. I by then had lost my sense of humour. I wanted to go home.

Then Maria stopped laughing and did a remarkable thing. She started crying. Immediately the six girls huddled around her and she was lost in a flurry of hugs and comforting words.

I looked at Adam. His eyes had filled too.

I turned to leave. At that moment I honestly didn’t care if he stayed. I didn’t think he’d even notice.

‘Hey, Little Miss Fix-It,’ he said softly, stopping me in my tracks.

He held up his two gloved hands. I high-fived him and his fingers bent to clasp mine. He looked down at me and I swallowed hard, my heart fluttering at being trapped under his gaze.

‘You’re a genius, do you know that?’ he said softly.

‘Well,’ I looked away, ‘we don’t have her yet.’

Adam looked back into the restaurant. Maria was wiping her eyes with a napkin, she looked back to the cake and shook her head lightly and laughed.

Not yet. But we almost did.

I felt an odd kind of relief but it was tinged with sadness. I didn’t have time to dwell on my feelings because Maria had put on her coat and was leaving the restaurant.

‘Shit, did she see you?’ I asked, detangling my fingers from his.

‘She can’t have,’ he replied, mild panic in his voice.

We quickly walked away, moving as far from the restaurant as possible. When we were at a safe distance I turned and saw that Maria was standing outside the restaurant.

‘She’s having a cigarette,’ I said, relieved.

‘She doesn’t smoke.’

We watched her. Her phone illuminated in her hand. Adam’s phone started ringing. He quickly silenced it but looked at the screen hungrily.

‘Don’t answer.’

‘Why not?’

‘Absence makes the heart grow fonder. You need her to really miss you and want you. Besides, you’re still angry, I can sense it. You’ll say the wrong thing and chase her away.’

‘Like Barry?’

I turned from him.

‘Did you want him to try to get you back?’ he asked after a while.

I smiled sadly. We hadn’t spoken much about Barry, not seriously. ‘He didn’t even try. I wouldn’t have gone back, but it would have been nice if he’d tried. He never wanted anything enough. Not even me. I know that sounds ridiculous, seeing as I’m the one who left him.’

‘Maybe he is trying. The voicemails. The phone calls …’

‘This morning he told a mutual friend of ours who we spend New Year’s Eve with that I despise going to her parties because I hate her cooking and listening to her intolerable children singing when they clearly have no talent and I can’t wait to countdown the New Year so I can leave her house. She texted me, still very upset and angry about it. I’m disinvited from her parties for the foreseeable future.’

‘Okay, so he’s not trying to get you back.’

‘No. He’s bitter. Quite twisted at the moment. I don’t think he’s aiming for a reconciliation.’

‘Tell your friend it’s not true.’

I looked at him.

‘Oh. It is true. So you do pee in the shower?’ he teased.

I was thanking the darkness for hiding my scarlet face.

‘Well, maybe not
everything
is true.’

‘It’s true!’ He chuckled to himself.

‘I had a mosquito bite, a really bad one. He walked in on me trying to … well, you know.’

‘You pissed on your mosquito bite?’ He started laughing.

‘Sshh,’ I punched his arm. ‘Anyway, it didn’t work,’ I added and we both laughed.

His phone signalled a voicemail.

‘That was a long one,’ I said. ‘Let me hear.’

‘Adam, it’s me.’ Her voice was soft, gentle, it was clear how she was feeling, I didn’t need to hear any more, but I listened all the same. ‘I got your cake,’ she laughed. ‘It’s the ugliest, most disgustingly thoughtful cake I’ve ever received. I’ll never forget that day. That was the day we first kissed, with those teeth in our mouths,’ she laughed. ‘Thank you. You’re crazy.’ She laughed again. ‘I missed that part of you, but
… I feel like you’re back. I’m so sorry I hurt you. I felt so
… lost, I was worried. I didn’t know what to do. Sean, he was
… there and he cared and
… he really cares about you too, you know. Don’t hate him. Anyway, thank you. I’m calling to say thank you. I need to see you, call me – okay?’

Adam was grinning from ear to ear.

He lifted me up and spun me around in the air and I laughed so loudly in the dark cold empty street that it drifted towards Maria outside the restaurant. But we needn’t have worried; all she would have seen was a couple in the dark, having fun together, hiding in the shadows, quite possibly in love.

16

How to Organise and Simplify Your Life

When we returned to the flat, take-away bags in our hands, we saw the lights still on in Amelia’s bookshop. It was ten p.m.

‘That’s bizarre,’ I said. ‘Here, you go on ahead,’ I handed him the keys to the flat. ‘Stay away from glass and electrics. I’m going to check if she’s okay.’

He rolled his eyes. ‘I’ll come with you.’

Amelia opened the door as soon as we walked towards her, as though she had been standing there waiting for us. Her eyes were wide and urgent. I looked around. A table had been set up with wine, cheese and crackers, there were five empty bottles of wine on the table. The bookcases had been cleared from the centre of the shop and in their place were chairs, four rows of four, with a handful of people sitting before a podium where a woman was reading aloud from a book. Her hair was a beautiful long, flowing vibrant grey, and she was wearing a slinky black dress with a low neckline revealing a toned and rather oiled-up décolletage.

Elaine turned and waved at us excitedly before quickly turning back to face the speaker.