Mr Right for the Night (12 page)

‘I’m Rich,’ Rich said.

‘I wish I was,’ Sandra giggled and shook his hand
flirtatiously. ‘Jesus! I know you.’ She gave a sudden
scream.

Everybody jumped. Grainne kicked over her beer.

Anna rolled her eyes to the ceiling. What now?

‘You’re the fella from the cough medicine ad,’
Sandra squealed.

‘Oh yes!’ Grainne’s eyes widened as she rubbed
the spilled beer into the carpet with the sole of her
shoe. ‘I knew you had a famous face.’

Anna screwed up her face to suppress a smirk.
Famous? Whatever next? Soon he’d be signing autographs
for them. He probably felt like the fifth
Beatle sitting in her flat. A slow satisfied smile
was spreading across his face. The video rolled on
unwatched.

‘So,’ Sandra settled herself well into the sofa, ‘what
else have you done?’

‘This and that.’

‘Tell us. Go on,’ Grainne urged.

Rich didn’t need that much encouragement. ‘I was
in
The Bill
,’ he said.

‘Which one?’ Sandra asked. ‘I’ve seen nearly all
of them.’

‘The one with the big train crash.’

‘Really? What part did you play?’

‘I was a paramedic. I said, “Pass me the oxygen.”’

‘Cool,’ Sandra and Grainne answered in unison.

‘I was also in
When Brendan Met Trudy
. Just a
“blink and you’ll miss me” part.’

‘Still,’ Sandra said encouragingly, ‘it’s a start.’

‘Don’t forget us when you’re rich and famous,’
Grainne said.

‘He’s already Rich,’ Anna said dryly.

The other three collapsed into convulsions of
laughter. For a moment Anna had a sudden urge
to be somewhere else. A thought crossed her mind.
She could run across the road and invite Mark over.
Then they’d only be one guy short. She eyed Rich
and his two new-found friends disdainfully. Three
girls and one guy was a bit unfair. Then again, it was
Monday. Mark would be working late. Or getting
ready for bed. He’d think she was insane inviting
him over to meet this lot. And besides . . . she was
on a
date
! How could she have possibly forgotten?

‘Have you met any stars?’ Grainne snapped open
a second beer and tucked her feet in under her.

Rich took a cigarette from Sandra’s outstretched
hand and contemplated the many celebrities he’d
rubbed shoulders with over the years.

‘I met Guy Ritchie once.’ Rich blew a jagged line
of smoke towards the ceiling. ‘Madonna wasn’t with
him at the time though.’

‘Did you?’ Anna was genuinely impressed. But
regretted showing it as she watched Rich’s chest
practically explode with pride.

‘What did he say?’ Grainne sat up straight.

‘Oh nothing to me,’ Rich swallowed, ‘but he asked
my friend the time. We were all so busy filming we
didn’t have time for chit-chat.’

‘I see,’ Anna cracked open a beer for herself while
there was still some left. No one seemed to be going
anywhere. In fact she was the only one who had to
be up in the morning.

‘I’ve met the whole cast of
Fair City
of course,’
Rich added.

‘Of course,’ Sandra giggled.

Grainne shot her a warning look. ‘So tell us about
the ad? Was that fun? What was the girl like? She’s
very pretty, isn’t she?’

Rich made a face. ‘She’s very big-headed really.
Not at all friendly. Like she wouldn’t go out with
you unless you drove a big car and threw money at
her . . .’

‘. . . which you didn’t,’ Sandra finished the sentence
for him.

‘Er . . . no.’

They turned back to the film in silence.

‘So can I see you again?’ Rich seemed reluctant
to disappear without arranging a return visit. The
girls had rapidly retired during the film credits.
Anna was gobsmacked. She hadn’t exchanged five
sentences with him all evening. And now he was
looking for more! Perhaps he was lonely. Yeah,
that must be it. Maybe all his friends had emigrated
to Australia at the same time. Possibly he had a
thing for nurses. What else? Because surely,
surely
he hadn’t considered the ‘date’ a success.

‘Give me a ring,’ Anna bid adieu soberly.

‘Sure.’ He looked for a split second like he was
going to lean over and kiss her. But he didn’t.
‘Goodnight.’ He gave her a curious wink and disappeared
into the darkness.

‘So what age is he?’ Elaine stubbed out one cigarette
and lit another.

‘I don’t know,’ Anna sighed and rubbed her eye
with the back of her hand. ‘Same age as me, I
suppose.’

‘And you didn’t go out at all?’ Elaine frowned.

‘No, Dublin’s crap on Monday nights.’

‘I see,’ Elaine looked as if she didn’t see at all.

‘Anyway, it’s nice to sit in now and again,’ Anna
said defensively.

‘Now and again, but not on a first date.’

‘Mmm.’ Anna didn’t have much interest in pursuing
the conversation.

‘So did you hand in your application?’

‘No, I’ll do it tonight.’

Their fifteen-minute break was soon up. Time
to go back to work. Another two hours till lunch.
Perhaps she’d go to McDonald’s. Mmm . . . a nice
creamy chocolate milkshake . . . mmm . . . and
fries . . .

The rest of the day dragged on unmercifully. Anna
typed out her letter of application and formally
handed it to Evans, the store manager.

‘Good luck,’ he said kindly.

‘Thanks,’ she answered automatically.

She wondered briefly when Rich would call again.
As far as she knew he wasn’t working. He was
between jobs as they called it in the acting world.
He was attractive all right though, Anna thought
as she straightened a clothes rail absent-mindedly.
But he wasn’t exactly Mr Perfect for the Party. God,
Victoria would have a field day with someone like
that. It didn’t bear thinking about. Cough medicine
ad indeed!

The bus sat in a steady stream of traffic the entire
journey home. Mobile phones were going off at a
great rate, people answering calls at the top of their
voices with ‘Hi, yeah I’m on the bus now. D’ya want
me to pick you up a sandwich or anything on my way
home? . . . No it’s no trouble at all . . . Ham? No? . . .
Oh right, cheese . . . Oh yeah there was a lot of trouble
about that. Yeah . . . major shit, like, you know . . .
anyway I’ll tell you about it when I get home . . .
yeah . . . about fifteen minutes . . . yeah . . . crawling
along . . . okay . . . yeah, just cheese . . . okay . . . yeah
bye . . . yeah . . . right . . . bye . . . oh hang on . . .
hello? . . . hello? . . . hell . . . ah . . . ffffffff . . .’

A grey-haired drunk was yelling at people who
s
uddenly found themselves engrossed in their evening
papers.

‘That’s right,’ he yelled. ‘Don’t answer me back.
It’s the age of technology and all that crap but one
day you’ll be dead and all the computers in the world
won’t be able to save you. Good luck.’

Anna stared out of the window terrified that he
might catch her eye. Thankfully she was sitting too
far behind for him to harass her. Instead he directed
his heated statements towards a scarlet-faced, acne-covered
youth. Poor man, Anna thought soberly.
Imagine if he was your dad or your brother. He
was
someone
’s relative. It was sad when you came
across someone like that. It kind of put your own
life into perspective.

The old man got off the bus just before it turned
into Ranelagh village. She looked back out of the
window and saw him continue his argument with
the bus stop. Life was cruel, she thought shaking
her head sadly. He was definitely someone the Celtic
Tiger seemed to have forgotten about.

She found the house in complete darkness. Briefly
she wondered where Steve was. Did he ever think
about her? Or did he just see her as the desperate old
tart upstairs? Hopefully not. It wouldn’t be nice for
anyone to think about her in that way. Maybe she’d
bump into him again and they could be friends. She
hadn’t seen him since Friday. Tonight was Tuesday
night, wasn’t it? She wondered if he’d be having
another mad party. Or would he be writing
chansons d’amour
to Claudine?

The phone was ringing as she pushed open the
front door. She threw her bag down and lunged for
it.

‘Hello?’

‘Anna?’

A male voice. Hurrah! But who was it? One male
voice sounded much the same as another.

‘Hi,’ she pretended to know who it was, ‘how
are you?’

‘It’s me.’

‘I know,’ she said.
Who the hell was it?

‘How do you know?’

She was confused. The voice was undeterred by
her brusqueness. This wasn’t Mark. And it wasn’t
Rich unless he was acting. But she wasn’t going to
back down now.

‘Because your voice is always the same,’ she played
along.

‘It’s Jake,’ the voice said.

Silence followed. Who the hell was Jake? Stunned
silence followed that. Oh sh . . . sugar! Jake was
the fella she’d met at Claire’s. The plant and all
that. Yikes, he’d think she was mad. What was
he ringing her for? Janey Mack, she’d two fellas
ringing her now. Well two was better than none,
she supposed. It was a rare occurrence and deserved
to be celebrated.

‘Who did you think it was?’ Jake asked testily.

‘My dad,’ Anna answered dryly.

The laughter that followed nearly burst her eardrum.
It continued for five minutes. Well maybe not
that long, but it certainly felt like it. ‘Anna, ha ah
hanna ha ha ha, you’re . . . ha ha . . . hilarious.’

Jesus, he must be on drugs, Anna eyed the phone
suspiciously as she held it a safe distance from her
ear. What on earth did he want? Had Claire put him
up to this? She’d kill her, she really would. She tried
to remember what Jake looked like. As far as she
recalled he wasn’t bad. Respectable looking. Not as
nice looking as Mark, of course, but as nice or nicer
than Rich.

‘Are you there?’ Jake sounded miles away.

‘Er . . . yes.’ With a bang Anna landed back to
earth. ‘What can I do for you?’
God, she sounded like a sulky sales person
.

‘Well . . . as a matter of fact ha ha . . . I was
wondering if perhaps you might be interested in
er . . . possibly meeting up sometime?’

‘Oh,’ Anna said because she couldn’t think of
anything else to say.

‘I could pick you up later?’

Crikey, he was keen, wasn’t he? This was good.
Two dates with two different men in two nights?
You couldn’t beat that, could you? And Jake had a
nice car as far as she could remember. Enough! Stop
it! People who thought about money were the lowest
of the low. ‘I’d love to,’ she said suddenly. There!
She’d agreed. There was no going back now.

‘I’ll see you at eight, Jake. Don’t be late,’ she said.
‘Oh and by the way, could you hoot your horn to
let me know you’re outside?’

A
nother five minutes of laughter. God, he certainly
wasn’t the full shilling, Anna decided. What
was so funny about hooting one’s horn? She’d better
get off the phone before she changed her mind about
the date. At least she had got in the bit about the
horn, though. Hopefully Steve would look out of
the window, if he was in, and see what a good catch
she’d made. Miaow.