Mr Right for the Night (19 page)

‘Fair play to you, Anna.’

‘Thanks. I’m well rid of that eejit. Besides I’ve still
two more options for the party,’ she said wickedly.

‘In the form of Rich and Steve?’

‘Yeah . . . thing is, I don’t think either of them is
particularly suitable for Victoria’s party.’

‘So we’re back to square one,’ Claire said dryly.

‘I’m afraid so.’

Something occurred to Claire as soon as she put
the phone down. Did Simon know about Jake’s other
woman? And if he did, why hadn’t he said anything?
Did he think it was better for Anna not to know? Or
did he think ‘Good on ya, Jake, it’s well for some’?
She’d have to ask him when he got home. If he
did
come home of course.

She rang his mobile and cursed the voice that said,
‘Your call has been diverted. Please hold.’ What was
the point in having a mobile if you didn’t keep it
switched on? His office line was worth a try.

It rang out.

Well, feck him anyway.

He could starve tonight.

Sleep didn’t come easily. Andrew started to cry
and Claire rushed to the baby room to soothe him
back to sleep. She was wide awake after that. Her
throat was dry She tiptoed downstairs to the kitchen,
opened the fridge door and removed a two-litre
bottle of 7-Up. A half litre of vodka sat in the
middle of the fridge. It seemed to be pleading
drink me please
. Nah, Claire banged the door shut. Only
alcos drank alone. She thought of Simon getting
pissed somewhere with Jake. Who else was with
them? Perhaps Jake’s floozie had a friend? God, it
didn’t bear thinking about. She opened the fridge
door again and snatched the vodka. Sure, one drink
never killed anyone.

She poured a tiny bit. Added six cubes of ice, then
drowned the vodka with 7-Up. She brought the glass
to her lips. No, no good. She couldn’t even smell
the alcohol. She poured another bit. This measure
was more generous. She gulped some down and
winced as the fluid burned her throat. Heaven. She
ambled round the kitchen, drank some more vodka
and tried Simon’s mobile once again.
Your call has been . . .
‘Fuck off,’ she yelled, then rebuked herself
f
or shouting while her son slept upstairs.

She switched on the radio and danced angrily to
JJ72. When JJ72 switched to Steps she pulled out
the radio plug in disgust. As if she could dance
to something as cheesy as Steps. She found an old
ABBA tape lurking at the bottom of the CD holder.
That would do.

Her drink was finished, she noticed glumly. She’d
promised herself just the one. Oh well, promises were
meant to be broken. What would Anna think? Anna
always said Claire was as solid as a rock. But rocks
eroded over the years. She’d learned that in Geography.
She pictured her old Geography teacher’s
beady eyes, poodle perm and pursed lips, and gave
an involuntary shudder.

The phone rang, making her jump. She picked it
up slowly. ‘Hello?’

‘Claire?’

‘Simon?’

‘Claire, listen I tried to call you earlier but the
phone was engaged. I’m out with clients.’

‘Lucky them,’ Claire said dully.

‘It’s gone on longer than I expected, so it’s better
that I stay at Jake’s.’

‘I thought Jake already had company.’

‘Sorry? Are you still there, Claire? The line’s pretty
bad. Catch you later, okay honey?’

Claire hung up. He was drunk. He only ever called
her ‘honey’ when he was drunk. Why was he still
out drinking? He hadn’t always carried on like this.
Somebody must be influencing him. There was no
other reason. But who?

Claire poured herself another measure. Her head
was feeling deliciously dizzy now. What would her
mother make of all of this? ‘Be careful of men who’ve
never lived,’ she’d once said. ‘Because one day they’ll
snap and wonder what they’ve missed out on.’

That was it
, Claire gave a strangled cackle. Simon
was trying to catch up. He’d spent all his twenties
studying, going on courses and attending interviews.
He’d only had sex with one other girl, his other
long-term girlfriend. He’d rarely got out-of-his-face scuttered
drunk and had never smoked (cigarettes or
otherwise). He’d never jetted off to Tenerife on a bad
lads’ holiday – in fact, it suddenly dawned on Claire,
the only time he’d ever gone anyway mad was when
his exam results had come out. It all made sense now.
Simon hadn’t ever really
lived
. No wonder he was
showing the beginnings of a mid-life crisis.

Anna woke at ten on Th
ursday morning.  She stretched
lazily like a cat in the bed, and then fell back against the mound of pillows.

Having a weekday
off was o
ne of the advantages of  being in the retail business.
It meant  you could browse around town without the Saturday afternoon crowds jostling you out of the way.

Anna wasn’t exactly what you’d cal
l a shopaholic. Two  shopping 
trips  a  year  sufficed  –  one  in  the autumn and  one  in  the  sprin
g.  She couldn’t  bear crammed
dressing  rooms  with  unforgiving   bright mirrors and nauseating  air-conditioning. It was horrible the way cheeky teenage shop assistants  would yell, ‘Are  you  all right  in there?’  as she fought  to fasten the zip on the hipster jeans that hadn’t seemed so tiny on the hanger.  Most of all she hated  it when the  assistants  offered  to  fetch  a
large
or  an 
extra large
just to be sure.

With a slap of foundation and  a few tugs of the oul wig she was ready to face town. She grabbed  her bag, ran down  the stairs and danced  down  the path of the house. An angry black cloud stared at her. She was about  to glare back but decided against it. If she were to pick a fight with the cloud, the cloud would win hands down.  And Anna  didn’t  feel like getting soaked. A passing car threw a beep. The nerve! Anna fumed.  It wasn’t as if she was dressed like a tart  or anything.  In fact in her green wax jacket and sensible cords  she looked more  like a farmer.  ‘Pervert’, she muttered. The car jolted to a halt a few yards down the road. It was one of those new Saabs. A black one. She slowed her pace. Her heart began to beat faster. Suppose the owner  of the car was trying  to abduct her? Should she turn  and  run  now while there  was still time? A male head appeared out of the window.

‘Anna,’ it yelled, ‘would  you  ever hurry  up  and stop making  me look like a bloody  kerb-crawler?’

Relieved, Anna ran towards the car. Mark  leaned over  and  opened  the  passenger  door  for  her.  He looked cute in a cream polo and chinos.

‘Why aren’t you at work? 
Nice
car, by the way.’

‘I’m on  two  weeks’ leave. So you  like her?  Our eyes met across the showroom floor. She begged me to take her home.’

‘And as usual you couldn’t say no,’ Anna checked her reflection  in the side mirror.  ‘Mind  you I can’t understand how anybody who lives in this city could spend money on a fast car. The traffic is hell.’

‘I see you’ve  been  back  to  those  charm  classes again.   Really,  I  think   you  should   take   a  break. You’re in danger  of becoming  too nice.’

‘Sorry,’ Anna smiled, ‘she really is a beauty. I’m just jealous. By the way I thought  you were going away?’

‘I’m visiting a friend in London  next week.’

‘A girlfriend?’

‘A friend who’s a girl, that’s right,’ he said cheekily.

‘And she doesn’t  mind  putting  you up for a few nights,  does she?’

‘She doesn’t have a problem  with that,  no.’

‘Fantastic,’ Anna said airily. ‘I suppose Sally’s too busy to mind.’

‘She doesn’t know.’

‘See? I always knew you were a bastard.’

‘It’s so unfair  to call me that.  It’s actually  all off between  Sally and myself.’

Anna sighed. Men like Mark  were impossible.

‘Why the sigh?’ he pressed on. ‘Don’t you believe that somebody  finally found the strength  to give me the boot? Am I that  irresistible?’

‘Piss off,’ she laughed.

‘Day off ?’

‘Uh huh.’

‘Lunch?’

‘Um . . .’

‘Stop trying to think of a reason why you shouldn’t.’

‘I’ve had my lunch.’

‘A drink  then?’

‘At this hour? Do you think I’m an alco or what?’

‘Tell you what,  we’ll go for a walk.’

‘Nah, too cold.’

‘Cinema?’

Anna considered  it. The idea kind of appealed  to her. ‘You’re on’ she agreed.

Mark  sighed with  exaggeration. ‘You’re a tough one to please,’ he chuckled.  ‘No wonder  the student  ran a mile.’

‘He’s back,’ Anna blurted  out defensively.

‘Great,’ he indicated  in a tone that wasn’t so great at  all. ‘I’m pleased  for you,  Anna.  Don’t  forget  to invite me to the wedding.’

‘I’m pleased  for me too,’  she replied  tartly.  ‘But don’t rush out buying me a wedding present. It’s not that serious.  Yet.’

They drove  in s
ilence out  to the Ormonde com
plex.

‘How about 
Bridget Jones’s Diary
?’

‘I’m easy,’ Anna shrugged.

Because it  was  afternoon, the  cinema  was  half empty. They  sat  in  the  middle  halfway  up.  Anna made  herself comfortable. It was  hard  to imagine, Anna  thought as  they  sat  in  the  darkness,   that  it was the middle of the day. During  the film she was very aware of Mark’s bare arm brushing  against her own.  She made no attempt to move away.  And she was  almost  sorry  when  the  credits  rolled,  telling people  it  was  time  to  move  on.  Now  there  were no  more  excuses  for  accidentally  catching  Mark’s fingers as they  both  reached for  the  popcorn. The lights brightened, urging punters  to leave and get on with their own mundane Irish lives. Anna sighed.

‘I don’t  feel  like  going  home  now,’  Mark   said suddenly, echoing her thoughts. ‘How about  a drink in town?’

‘Too noisy,’ Anna  proclaimed. ‘I’m too  tired  to stand in a crowded  pub with a load of suits.’

‘Johnny Fox’s?’

‘Ah why not?’ Anna brightened. She hadn’t  been up to that place in years. The highest pub in Ireland. If you  couldn’t  get away  from  it all up there,  well there was no hope for you.

Mark  started  the engine. They zoomed  off.

In Johnny  Fox’s they settled in a cosy seat beside one of the log fires. A true gentleman, Mark took her jacket and hung  it on the back  of a chair.  ‘What’ll you have?’

‘A Heineken  will do me just fine.’ Anna pulled her chair closer to the warmth of the fire.

He  came  back  with  two  pints,  a Heineken  and a  pint of the  black  stuff  for  himself.  ‘Well, this  is nice.’  He  sat  down.  ‘You’re impossible  to  nab  for a drink.’

‘I just need a good  bit of notice,’ Anna  insisted.

‘I’m a busy woman,  you know.’

‘I’ve learned my lesson you’ll be glad to hear. Next time I’ll give you plenty of notice.’

‘Well, I’ll need it. I’m going to be up to my eyes from now  on . . . and  Steve’s very possessive,’ she added just to annoy  him.

But the  look  on  his  face  didn’t  give her  much satisfaction and  she felt guilty almost  immediately.  Why  be  nasty  to  those  who  were  nicest  to  you?

What  had  Mark  ever done  wrong  except  flirt with her occasionally? It was hardly a crime. Yet for some bizarre reason  she felt she had to keep up this ‘treat ’em mean, keep ’em keen’ attitude whenever he was around. He deserved it, though. He was a man after all. And an extremely good-looking one at that.  She almost hated  him for it.

‘So how is work going?’ He lifted his Guinness to his lips and sampled  it thoughtfully.

‘Great,’ Anna  tried  to say cheerfully  but  Mark’s eyes seemed to question  her.  ‘Actually,’ she took  a climb down,  ‘things are pretty  terrible.’

After  some  further   probing, Anna  gave  in  and admitted the whole nightmare situation with Elaine over the promotion. He listened carefully and gently squeezed her hand  as
she told him about  the break
down in communication between herself and Elaine.