Mr Right for the Night (17 page)

‘We could go to Lillies?’

‘Great,’ she said before excusing herself to go to
the Ladies.

When she came back the bill had been paid.
Naturellement
.

Lillies was jammed and Jake ushered her into the
VIP area. It was a bit quieter in there. Jake found
a seat and disappeared off to get the drinks. Anna
looked around with interest. The place was dotted
with glamorous blondes and men who looked like
they
might
be vaguely famous. Some well-known
sports celebrities were having a drinking competition
in one of the booths, in another Anna recognized the
‘stars’ of a naff Irish soap. One of them seemed to
be waving at Anna. She squinted to see who it was.
Then, horror of horrors, recognition set in. Rich. She
smiled weakly. He stood up and edged his way out
of his circle of friends.

‘Hi,’ he said, standing next to her, hands deep in
his pockets. He seemed genuinely pleased to see her.
‘What are you doing here?’

‘I’m here with a . . . friend.’ Anna shifted uneasily
in her seat. She glanced at the bar where Jake was
paying for the drinks. ‘And yourself?’

‘I’m here with . . .’ he rattled off a list of marginally
famous actors.

‘Wow,’ Anna said.

‘You weren’t at Grainne and Sandra’s party. I was
disappointed.’

Jake was back.

Anna introduced the two men.

They shook hands. An awkward silence followed.
Suddenly Jake spoke. ‘Your face is very familiar. Did
you study commerce at UCD?’

‘No.’

‘Are you in stockbroking?’

Rich shook his head.

‘That’s funny,’ Jake looked puzzled, ‘I know I
know your face.’

Rich said something about needing to get back to
his friends. He added a comment about being pleased
to see her again.

He was gone.

‘Who was that?’ Jake took a sip of sparkling
water. He’d decided not to drink any more for fear
of being stopped on the way home.

‘Oh, he’s a pal of the nurses upstairs.’ Well, it was
partly
true.

‘Is he?’ Jake didn’t sound too convinced. ‘He
seemed pretty taken with you.’

‘Ah no,’ Anna tried to hide her delight, ‘he’s just
a friend.’

Jake appeared to accept that and spent the rest
of the night cracking jokes and making small talk.
Anna laughed her head off. Not because the jokes
were funny but because she knew Rich was staring
at them. At the end of the night, when Jake
went to collect their jackets, he sidled over, his
eyes slightly bloodshot, his tie undone around his
neck.

‘Can I give you a ring sometime?’

‘Sure. A diamond would be nice.’

‘Seriously though. Can I call you?’

‘If you want,’ Anna shrugged. What did she have
to lose? It wasn’t as if she was married to Jake
or anything. She belonged to no one and nobody
belonged to her.

It was a quick walk to Jake’s BMW. It was very
nice to be getting into a warm comfortable car with
soft leather seats, rather than having to scour town
for a taxi along with a million other people.

Jake turned on the radio. David Gray’s voice was
smooth and seductive. Anna was glad she was going
home though. She was feeling incredibly sleepy.

They were home.

Jake jammed on the brakes and turned off the
engine. ‘Well goodnight.’ Impulsively Anna leaned
over and kissed Jake’s lips. Unfortunately he took
this as an invitation to come in. He unfastened his
seatbelt as she unfastened hers.

‘Jake?’ Anna hesitated. She didn’t want to hurt his
feelings.

‘Yes?’

‘Listen, Jake, I’ve had a truly wonderful evening,
but I’m afraid I’m going to have to call it a night
now.’

Jake cleared his throat uncomfortably. ‘Er . . .
that’s perfectly fine, Anna, I don’t want to pressurize
you into anything, you know. You’re amazing
company and it was an absolute pleasure to take
you out.’

God, this is all very formal, Anna thought. She
almost felt guilty for scarpering off. Mind you, he’d
paid for her company and nothing else. She shouldn’t
feel the slightest bit of guilt. She leaned towards him,
wrapped her arms around his neck and indulged
in an impossibly long snog, the car gears sticking
uncomfortably in her side. He wasn’t a bad kisser
after all. Anna wondered what else he was good at.

‘Goodnight,’ she said eventually, disentangling
from him before she was tempted to change her
mind.

‘Goodnight,’ he said dolefully, and reluctantly
refastened his seatbelt.

Anna gave him a slight wave from her doorstep.
Why did he look like a wounded puppy? Why did
she feel like she’d done him a terrible injustice? She
wasn’t for sale. He couldn’t buy her affections.
They’d had a wonderful evening. End of story.

She pushed the heavy front door open. The hall
was dark and gloomy. She turned back to wave one
more time, half tempted to run out, tell him she’d
changed her mind and invite him in after all.

But she didn’t.

She just wasn’t that type of girl!

She’d barely one foot on the stairs when the door
of the downstairs flat opened. Light flooded the
hallway. Steve stood in the doorway, naked except
for a towel covering his modesty. His skin was sallow
against the contrasting white. His hair was damp as
if he’d just emerged from the shower. Tiny drops
of water glistened on his neck and shoulders. She
could see he was smiling. She stared back in silence.
Her head urged her to keep mounting the stairs. Her
heart begged her not to.

‘Hi there,’ he said eventually.

Her head and heart were at war with each other.
Her head was winning the first round but her heart
threw the final punch and the referee counted to five.
The bell sounded. The crowd cheered.

‘Hi,’ she smiled and walked towards him.

‘It’s the mad one for you,’ Simon handed the phone
to his wife.

‘Anna?’ Claire answered the call.

‘Yeah, oh God, Claire I’ve done something terrible.
I . . . Claire are you there?’

‘Uh huh.’

‘I snogged Steve.’

‘Steve?’ It took Claire a few seconds to register.

‘Oh, Steve as in the student?’

‘Yes, and I swear to God it was just so amazing –
he’s divine – but you see, the thing is, right, I snogged
Jake earlier on and remember Rich?’

‘Rich? . . . Er, I think so.’

‘Well he phoned this morning to invite me to a
premiere he’s got tickets to. He’s got a small part in
it apparently.’

‘So what’s the problem?’

‘It’s just I feel like such a bitch. I mean, I like all
three of them but I feel bad for leading them all on.’

‘Men do it all the time,’ Claire retorted crisply and
noticed that Simon flinched at his computer.

‘Yeah and we hate them for it,’ Anna argued.

‘How long have you been single, Anna?’

‘Practically all my life.’

‘Well, what are you complaining about? Men are
like buses. They arrive in threes. If you miss them
you’ve to wait a decade for another one. Enjoy.’

‘I suppose you’re right.’

‘You’ve got three options for Valentine’s – that’s
a bonus if anything,’ Claire said loudly enough for
her husband to take note.

‘Yeah, but Steve’s cooking and he’s the best kisser
so I’m sticking with him.’

‘Remember last time he dropped you like a hot
cinder?’

‘Yeah.’Anna didn’t particularly care to be reminded.
‘Anyway my plan is that if Jake rings you I’ve the flu
or something. I’m recovering at my aunt’s and you
don’t know the address, right?’

‘Right.’ Claire didn’t sound too convinced.

‘How’s Andrew?’

‘Great,’ Claire brightened. ‘I took him for a lovely
long . . .’

‘Claire, I’ve just remembered I’ve a tart in the
oven, see you soon.’

She cut off.

‘What was Anna saying?’ Simon asked casually as
he swung his rotating chair around to face his wife.

‘This and that. You know Anna, everything’s
always a crisis.’ Claire was wary about saying too
much to Simon. He didn’t appreciate his friends
being slagged off. It was all right for him to do
it, of course. But that was different. Simon would
be livid if he thought Anna was giving Jake the
run-around.

‘Is she still seeing Jake?’ he wanted to know.

‘Kind of,’ Claire admitted. How much did her
husband know? Had Jake confided in him? Why
was Simon so secretive? Why did men never communicate?

‘Has Jake said anything?’ Claire tried not to appear
too interested.

‘He thinks she’s attractive.’ Simon turned to his
computer. Claire gave his back a look of dismay.
Her husband thought speculating on other people’s
relationships was a complete waste of time.

‘Did he say anything else?’ She was careful to tread
carefully.

‘Of course not,’ Simon scoffed. ‘He’s a bloke. He
wouldn’t have the time or the patience to analyse
things that trivial.’

Andrew started to wail in his playpen.

Simon showed no signs of budging.

As usual it was his mother who picked him up.

‘For you.’ Elaine handed her the phone at the customer
service desk.

‘Who is it?’ Anna was barely able to speak. Jesus,
that bottle of wine she and Steve had drunk the
night before must have been one of those 99p
bottles. Never again. No really. It just wasn’t
worth it.

‘Hello?’

‘Anna?’

‘Yes?’

‘Mr Walton here, head office.’

‘Yes?’ Anna felt the walls closing in on her.

‘I’m pleased to inform you that your first interview
was a success and we’d like to invite you for a second
and final one next week. If you would like to arrange
with Personnel for a time that suits . . .’

Anna barely heard the rest. She couldn’t believe
it! A second interview? What was going on? She’d
done a crap interview.

‘Thank you, Mr Walton . . . Yes, delighted . . .
Yes, thank you very much.’

‘What did he say?’ Elaine was beside her with a
face that was devoid of any colour whatsoever.

‘He . . . Oh God, Elaine . . .’ Anna’s stomach gave
a violent rumble and she fled the shop floor.

Clinging onto the toilet bowl, tears running down
her cheeks, Anna cursed the day she ever hooked up
with Steve. It was all right for him to get pissed out
of his mind any day of the week. But she was too
old for this kind of carry on. Far too old.

She heard a pair of high heels click clicketing along
the corridor. Oh God, she really didn’t want one of
the shop girls to hear her retching.

Eventually she came out of the cubicle. June was at
the mirror spraying cheap perfume onto her giraffe-like
neck. The powerful stink made Anna want to
vomit again.

‘Well, I must say you’ve surprised us all by your
interview skills,’ the older woman almost spat.

Interview skills? Sure, it was the quick blow job I gave Walton when Fidelma wasn’t looking that did the trick
.