Mr Right for the Night (31 page)

‘So how  have people  reacted  here?’

‘To be honest,  I haven’t  told  that  many  people. It’s  not  the  kind  of thing  you  want  to shout  from the roof tops.’

‘I understand.’

‘Do you?’

‘No,’ Claire said truthfully. ‘No not really. In fact I can’t even begin to understand what  you’re going through.’

Jesus,  meeting  people  like  Alice  really  put  her own  life in perspective.  Suddenly  Claire  felt like a monster.  She demanded so  much  out  of  life.  But Simon hadn’t  left her or anything.  And she hadn’t any  proof   that  anything   was  going  on  between himself and  Shelley.  Except  for that  kiss. The kiss. How  could  anybody  explain  that  away?

God, she didn’t know what to think.  She couldn’t just  pack  up  and  leave. Tonight  she was  going  to sit down and talk properly  with Simon. That’s what was  wrong  with  their  marriage. Neither   of  them communicated any more.

Men weren’t great talkers.  Everybody  knew that. It was a well-known fact.  You couldn’t  go around holding it against  them.

Claire  sipped  a  little  of  her  wine  and  began  to cheer  up.  Everything   would   sort  itself  out.   Yes, everything  would  work  out  in the end.

‘Are you going to Victoria’s party?’ Claire poured

Alice a second  glass of wine.

‘That blasted  party,’ Alice frowned,  ‘I’ve thought of nothing  else for the past few weeks. I’m dreading  it.’

‘Why bother  turning  up so?’

‘I wouldn’t  give her
the satisfaction of not  turn
ing up.’

‘So she wasn’t  your  favourite  person  either?’

‘She was horrible,’  Alice fumed.

‘How  did she get away  with  it?’

‘Oh, because  her parents  poured  money  into  the school.’

‘Terrible,  wasn’t  it?’

‘She used to call me Malice,’  said Alice.

‘Don’t worry,  she had  a name  for everybody.’

‘Do you remember  when  I left school  at the end of  fifth  year  to  go  to  Spain  for  a  year?  She told everybody  that  I was pregnant.’

‘No way.’

‘It’s hard to believe, isn’t it?’ Alice sipped her wine thoughtfully. ‘I mean I shouldn’t  be bothered by any of this at my age. After all, we’re all grown-ups  now. She probably isn’t so bad  these days.’

‘Indeed  she  is,’  Claire  said  crossly.  ‘I  met  her recently  and  she’s still the same old cow.’

‘We should  all boycott  her silly party,’  Alice said suddenly.  ‘I mean  it’s  not  like  anyone  else  really wants  to go.’

‘I’ve already  thought of  that,’  Claire  chuckled.

‘But in a way I wouldn’t  mind  going along  to have a look  at the house.  I believe it’s out  of this world. I  shouldn’t  really  be admitting that.  It’s like those social  diaries  at  the  back  of Irish  magazines.  You ridicule  them  and  pretend  you  don’t  give a damn about  who wore  what  to the opening  of those  silly things but somehow  when you’re standing  alone in the shop and you think nobody’s  looking,  you can’t help sneaking  a quick  look.’

‘And you  usually  recognize  somebody  you  can’t stand,’  Alice laughed.

‘Yeah and you’re thinking  “Why  did they bother taking  a picture  of
her
?” ’

There  was a pause.

‘We’ll go along and have a laugh anyway,’ Claire said.  ‘I’ve already  put  a  deposit  on  a  ridiculously expensive dress so I’m kind  of committed.’

‘Shame on you.’

‘I’ve lots  of other  lovely dresses  that  you  might want  to  try  on,’  Claire  offered  delicately,  aware that  Alice’s  financial   situation  might   not   be  the best following  her speedy return  from  the States.

‘Thanks, Claire, I just might take you up on that.’

‘Please come back and see me again soon,’ Claire stood   up.  ‘When  Andrew’s  awake.   My  husband might even put  in a surprise  appe
arance,’ she gri
maced.

‘I’m sure  I’ll see  him  at  the  party,’  Alice  said brightly. ‘Just remember,’  she warned,  ‘a good man is hard to find.’

‘So they say.’ Claire got Alice’s coat for her. ‘And
I believe them.’

Now  that  Alice was gone the house  seemed very quiet indeed.  Claire  was  alone  with  her  thoughts once more.  Negative  thoughts too.  Why hadn’t  her husband phoned  back? Perhaps  Shelley had had the audacity  not to inform  him of her call.

Claire  badly  needed  to  talk  to  him.  She wanted  him  to  hold  her  and  assure  her  that   everything would  work  out  fine.  She  had  to  tell  him  about  the baby.

‘Where  are  you  Si
mon?’  she  cried  with   exas
peration.

Claire awoke to the sound of the front door opening. The electric red digits on the alarm clock read 11:15.  She slipped out  of bed and into her comfy slippers. Pulling  her old velour  dressing  gown  on she made her way downstairs.

She still couldn’t believe what she was about to tell Simon. To think that in seven months’ time Andrew would have a little brother or sister!

The  lamp  in  the  kitchen  was  switched  on.  The television  sound  was  low.  Simon was lying on  the sofa, his eyes half closed.  He looked  wrecked.

Claire wondered what was up. Simon hadn’t even bothered taking  off h
is scarf. Maybe  the stock mar
ket had slumped and Simon was taking it personally. Claire  didn’t  know  much  about  stock  markets  but knew  there were good  and  bad  days.

Today  must  have been one of the bad  ones.

‘Hi.’ She stood  at the door.

‘Hi, Claire.’  He managed  just a faint  smile.

‘Are you hungry?  There’s lasagne in the fridge. It would only take  a few moments  to heat  up.’

‘No  thanks,’   Simon  shook   his  head,   ‘I’m  not hungry.’

He looked  worryingly  strained. Claire  sat  down beside  him  in the  sofa  and  took  his hand.  It was freezing and  she rubbed  it between  her two  palms.

‘The  electric  blanket’s   on  if  you  feel  like  going upstairs. Or  I could  run  a  bath.  Would  you  like that?’

‘Maybe  I’ll have a bath  so.’

‘I’ll run  it for you.’

‘I need to tell you something, Claire,’ he said and the flat tone  of his voice disturbed her.

Why was he looking  at her so oddly?

‘I’ve something to tell you too,’ her voice wavered. Simon  put  his head  in his hands,  ‘Jesus, Claire,
I’m at a loose end and  I don’t  know  what  to do.’

‘What is it?’ Claire
asked, her mind suddenly para
lysed with  fear.  ‘What’s bothering you,  Simon?’

‘It’s Shelley,’ he said finally. ‘She’s pregnant.’

‘Darren,  what  are you doing here?’

‘Ssh,’ he interrupted her with a kiss. ‘Can I come in?’

‘Er . . . yes . . . I . . . God, this is such an unexpected surprise.’

Anna led him into the sitting room, thanking God that out  of boredom she’d cleaned  it during  the ad breaks  of
The Late Late Show
.  He sat down  on the bright yellow  sofa  which  clashed  slightly  with  his orange  shirt.

He stretched  out his long legs in front  of him.

‘So this is your  pad,  eh?’ Darren  looked  around the room  with interest.

‘Yep.’ Anna struggl
ed to think of something inter
esting to say but her mind remained  blank.

‘I couldn’t  wait  till  next  weekend  to  see  you,’ Darren  smiled, reminding  her of a film star.

Next  weekend?   Han
g   on,  that   was  the  week
end  of  the  party.   Should  she  bring   it  up  now? No,  better  wait  until  later.  No  point  scaring  him off.

‘Well, I’m flattered,’ she said instead, sitting down beside him. ‘I’m glad to see you too.’

‘Are you?’

‘Yes,’ she said shyly, ‘I’ve been thinking about you. Have . . . have you been thinking  about  me too?’

‘God, if only you knew, Anna Allstone,’ he pulled her towards him, ‘I’ve never met anybody  like you. I think you’re incredible.’

Anna  snuggled  into  his  broad   chest,  her  cheek resting  against  it, listening  to the steady  rhythm  of his heart.  If there was ever such a thing as a perfect moment this was it. Afraid  to look  at him for fear of doing something  daft like bursting  into tears, she simply murmured, ‘That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.’

She didn’t  care  about  Victoria’s  silly party  any more.  She’d go along  with  Darren  and  not  give a hoot about  the chandeliers  and champagne. As long as Darren was by her side, everything else would pale in comparison.

‘Are you tired?’ Darren  gently stroked  the back of her neck.

‘Mmmm.’

‘Do you want  to lie down  for a while?’

‘Oh I don’t know  about  that.’

‘Nothing   will  happen   that   you  don’t   want   to happen.’

Now  where had she heard  that  before?

He stood  up and  stretched  provocatively. ‘Come on,’ he winked  at her.

‘Okay,’ she said in a little voice and took the arm that was extended  to her.

Their  lovemaking   wasn’t  earth   shattering.  The room didn’t  vibrate  w
ith  explosive  passion.  Fire
works didn’t  suddenly  light up Galway  Bay. But as far as Anna was concerned it was perfect. Everything seemed just so right.

He  took  care  to  find  out  what  she  liked,  what turned her on. There was no rush, he insisted. They’d all the time in the world to get to know each other’s bodies.

He knew all the right things to say, Anna thought fondly.  Even though 
she
knew  they didn’t  have all the time in the world.  Tomorrow, Saturday, would be a very busy day in the store.

In the morning  Anna’s alarm  clock blasted  them out of it.

‘I’ve  a  friend  in  Galway  who  I’m  going  to  visit today,’ Darren called from the shower. ‘So how about I hang around  after  that  and we can do something?  How would you like to have dinner in Moran’s?’

Anna  thought she’d like it very much.  Moran’s  was  a  delightful  traditional pub  on  the  weir  with a  thatched  roof.  She couldn’t  have  chosen  a more romantic spot herself.

‘And  I’ll book   a  room   in  a  five-star  hotel  for afterwards. A room  with a view.’

‘You’re unbelievable,’  Anna  shook  her  head  in wonder  at him. ‘What did I do to deserve you?’

Claire  sat opposite  her husband and  stared  at him as if in a trance.  Right  now  her head  was spinning and  she desperately  needed  to find the right  switch to turn  it off. Why was her husband’s  face as white as a sheet?  How  was  Shelley pregnant? As far  as Claire  could  recall there wasn’t  any particular man in Shelley’s life except . . .

‘Simon?’

‘Yes, Claire,’ he sighed.

‘Who’s the father  of Shelley’s baby?’

‘Oh Claire,  does it really matter?’

She cleared her throat angrily.  ‘Yes it does.’

‘She doesn’t want me to tell anybody,’ he said with a  firmness  in his voice. ‘She’s not  coming  back  to work, that’s all I know.’

‘Why not?’ Claire could feel her temperature rising rapidly.  What  the hell was going on?

Simon’s eyes eventually met hers. He stretched out his hand  and placed it on hers.

‘Claire,’ he said, ‘if you were pregnant with your boss’s child would  you come back to the office?’

Claire disengaged her hand from Simon’s and with the other  hand  slapped  his face hard.

‘What the hell . . . ?’ he spluttered.

‘How  dare  you?’  she  screamed.  ‘What  are  you trying to tell me here? Stop playing these mind games with me. Do you hear? STOP IT!’

‘Jesus, Claire,’ Simon looked  alarmed,  ‘the baby isn’t  mine.  It’s John’s,  remember  John  who  called over here one night with Richard  and Jake?’

‘I remember,’  Claire  said, her head  still spinning. She didn’t  know  whether  to feel angry,  shocked  or relieved. She sat down on the sofa again, trying to put the pieces of  this bloody  confusing  jigsaw together  in her head. ‘So,’ she said eventually, ‘ex
cuse me for being so nai
ve here but what  has all this got to do with you?’

‘It’s just that Shelley’s leaving has thrown me. You know Shelley, she practically  ran my life. How am I going to cope?’

‘I’m sure you’ll find someone  else to go drinking with,’ Claire replied acidly.

‘It’s  not  that.  Jesus,’  Simon sounded  exasperated,
‘Shelley knew me inside out.’

‘I don’t want  to hear it.’

‘I mean 
professionally
. Of 
course
I mean  profes
sionally. Okay  we flirted occasionally  but  that  was just a bit of fun. I’d never actually do anything about  it.  And  by  the  way,  Claire,  that  kiss was  a cover up.  She wanted people  in work  to think  there  was something  going  on  between  us  so  they  wouldn’t suspect anything  was going on between  herself and John. I just got caught  up in the middle  of it all. I couldn’t  believe that  you actually  saw her kiss me. Now  you might  believe me about  what  was really going on.’