Mr Right for the Night (34 page)

‘Not  at  all,’  the  guy  assured  her.  ‘Sure,  I  was bringing  my friend Jack home anyway.’

The ‘lift’ was a navy van so Anna and Alice had to climb in the back and sit among a pile of boxes. Jack was intrigued with the ‘birds’ in the back. He’d been trying  unsuccessfully  to score all night  while Nigel had effortlessly picked up two!

Jack reluctantly  got out  of the  car in O’Connell
Street. Alice was dropped off a little further  on.

‘Where are
you
going?’ Nigel asked Anna.

‘I’m fine here,’ Anna said.

‘But where do you live?’

‘Er . . . Stillorgan.’

‘Get into the front so, I’ll drive you,’ Nigel insisted. Anna took  a good  look  at  him.  He  didn’t  look like the  type  of guy who  would  strangle  you  and then discard your body in one of those wheelie bins. And it wasn’t like he had even approached the girls in the first place. And it was pretty cold outside too.

She didn’t much want  to stand  at a taxi rank.
Ah she was probably safe enough!

‘Did you have a good  night  anyway?’  Nigel was very chatty.

‘Great, I never left the dance floor.’

‘So I noticed,’ he said as Anna froze.

So he
had
  been  watching  her.  Oh  God.  Maybe he’d  been  simply  biding  his time.  Just  waiting  for his chance to pounce.  She took  another look at him so she’d be able to describe him later to the Gardai.  Curly  red  hair.  Round   face.  Pert  nose.  Friendly smile. God,  he didn’t  exactly 
look
like a criminal,  did he?

Nevertheless,  Anna breathed a short  sigh of relief when   they  finally  reached   Stillorgan.   Thankfully she’d  remembered   her  keys.  She  went  to  get  out of the van.

‘I never got your name,’ said Nigel.

‘Anna,’ she said quietly.  ‘It’s Anna.’

‘That’s a nice name.’

‘Thanks.  And  er,  thanks  very much  for  the  lift, it  was  so good  of you  to  go . . . er so far  out  of your way.’

‘Not a bother, Listen, Anna, do you think I could have your  number?  I’d really like to meet up with you again.’

‘Well it’s just  . . .’
Jesus, how  was  she going  to get  out  of  this?
  ‘. . .  it’s  just  I  have  a  boyfriend  actually.’

‘Just a quick drink,’ Nigel insisted.
A quick drink? I don’t think  so
.

‘Sure,’ Anna relented.  ‘Give me your number.  I’ll ring you.’

She watched guiltily as Nigel scribbled his number  on the inside of an empty cigarette carton, knowing full well she’d never ring him.

‘Thanks again,’ she said putting  the carton  in her bag. ‘Goodnight.’

It was always the way, wasn’t it, Anna thought as she sat in the kitchen  drinking  a glass of anything-to-try- to-keep-the-hangover-to-a-minimum water.  The guys you were not interested  in were interested  in you. And the guys you adored treated you like shit. Why was life like that? Why was it all so bloody unfair?

Poor  Nigel  would  be  waiting  for  her  call  over the  coming  days  until  it  became  obvious  she  was never  going  to  ring.  In  the  meantime   she  would wait  patiently  for  Darren’s  call. Her  phone  would sit in dead silence like a big black monster.  And she would  pick it up at least five times an hour  just to make sure it was working.

And it would  be. It always was.

‘Did anyone ring for me, Aoife?’ Anna burst through the door  of the apartment.

‘No,’  Aoife  said  gently,  but  the  dreaded   word alone seemed  to  cut  through the 
room  like a poi
soned spear.

‘Oh right.’ Anna was subdued. ‘And you were here all the time, were you?’

‘Well, I went to the shops just the once. Er . . . he might have been trying to get through then.’

‘Yeah, maybe  you’re right,’ Anna  said, her voice dropped, catching emotion as it did so. She had never felt so let down  in her life. The party  was only days away and it now looked  like her escort  would  be a definite no-show.  Why, she wondered. What had she done wrong? If she knew, it would all be a lot easier to understand.

‘There’s probably a good  reason  why  he hasn’t phoned,’  Aoife said encouragingly. ‘But that  isn’t to say he won’t,  you know.’

But no amount of kind words or positive thinking could disguise the fact that  Darren  hadn’t  bothered his ass dialling her number.

‘Would you like to see my new dress?’ Anna tried to  change  subjects. 
The  one  I’m  going  to  turn  up in. Alone
.

The following day dragged for Anna. Nothing made sense any more. What was God playing at up there? Some people  asked  for miracles  and  got them.  All she’d wanted  was a suitable man for the night. That was all. That and her health, of course. And her own business maybe  one day.  And happiness  for all her friends  and family. And to have no more  homeless teenagers  on the  streets.  Of course  all those  things were far more important than  getting some idiot of a man  to  bring  along  to  the  party.  Yes really,  she should  stop feeling sorry for herself.

‘Miss Browne wants to see you in her office,’ said
Lorraine,  one of the shop girls.

Anna  made  her  way  upstairs. What  wonderful treasures  would  Miss Browne have in store for her? And who cared anyway?  How  was she supposed  to be interested  in sales and budgets at a time like this?

‘Sit down,  Anna,’  Miss Browne  motioned to the empty seat opposite  her desk.

Anna obeyed.  What  was all this leading to?

‘Firstly I’d like to
congratulate you on your  per
formance since your arrival. Your standards are very high and you’ve certainly proved your capabilities  in my absence.’

‘Thank  you,’ Anna  said  stiffly. There  was a but in here somewhere.  There  had  to be. Miss Browne wasn’t in the habit  of waffling on for nothing.

‘Anyway to cut straight  to the point,’ the manager continued, ‘unfortunately we’re  going  to  lose  you now. They always seem to take the good ones away, I’m afraid.’

‘What do you mean?’ Anna was becoming extremely hot under the collar.
Could somebody please open a window?

‘Head  office would  like to  try  you  in your  own store.  As you  know,  we’re branching into  the  UK market  at the moment.’

‘That’s  right.’  Anna  felt  faint.  Her  own  store. GOD!

‘The store  is just outside  London,’  Miss Browne continued. ‘It’s brand-new with completely new staff and we really believe you have it in you to manage it.’

‘Er, gosh . . . I don’t know  what  to say.’

‘You don’t  have to give us your  answer  just yet. You have until Monday to think about  it. That gives you the whole weekend.’

The weekend! The party . . . oh God . . . manager  of a new store . . . OH  GOD!

‘No phone  calls?’

‘No.’ Aoife  looked  guilty  as  if it  was
her
  fault Darren  hadn’t  rung.  ‘But sure  you  know  yourself men have absolutely  no conception of time.’

‘Yeah yeah.’  Anna  flopped  onto  the  small  sofa. Tonight  she should 
have been celebrating  her pro
motion.  So why was she so pissed off ? After all why had she thought Darren  would  turn  out  any better than  the others?

It was typical.  Sh
e’d always  given men the unde
served benefit of the doubt. They were all the same though. Only  the  names  changed.  She wished  she hadn’t slept with him. The thought of it was making her feel about  as cheap  as a used car. But worst  of all was that Anna knew deep down, that if the phone rang now with Darren’s  voice at the end of it, she’d forgive him.

But as the next couple of days wore on, there was no pretending  that  Darren  was going to ring. He’d made his escape through the Emergency Exit. That was the end of him. Bye bye. She’d been a weekend fling. That’s all there was to it. A toy that  he’d tired of. Bastard.

Anna went  through the motions  at work,  trying to  make  herself  as  busy  as  possible.  She’d  go  to England.  She’d swim  over  if she had  to.  Anything to get out of this country  for a while. She’d make a new start in England. Nobody would know her over there. Anna Allstone. The babe! A girl who took no shit from men. Yeah right!

Maybe  she  should   give  the 
Guinness   Book   of Records
  a call. Did they have a category  for
Most Dumped Woman
? It was worth  a try. Hey, it might even make her famous. She might start getting invited to chat shows to share her story with all her ‘sisters’ out there.

Ah sure,  what  was  the  point  in  moping?  Who wanted  to be part  of a boring  old couple  anyway? The  only  reason  Darren  had  seemed  exciting  was because she hadn’t  really known  him. All men were pretty interesting  at first. Then  you found  out  they were the same selfish git as the last fella. He still went out  on  a  Friday  with  the  lads,  coming  in bollixed afterwards, looking  for a shag. And in the morning  he’d wake up with a chronic  hangover  and ransack your flat for food. After that  he’d sit on your  sofa, and smoke your cigarettes while watching one rugby match  after another on your TV.

At least Anna  didn’t  have to put  up with  any of that.  She was looking  forward to  getting  herself  a snazzy  one-bedroomed apartment in  London. She could  paint   it  a  crazy-looking  pink   and  fill  her bathroom with  make-up  and  all kinds  of perfumes and  face  masks.   She  could  leave  the  lid  off  the toothpaste  and  the  toilet  paper  on  the  floor.  God, it was going to be mad fun altogether!

Now she was beginning to cheer up. Who needed men anyway? Anna only had to look around Lolta’s to see that all the top female managers  were single. Yeah,  that  was  a fact.  They  didn’t  waste  precious hours  alone with the radio,  guzzling back wine and reminiscing  on  long-lost  love. No  way.  They  were too busy working and climbing the corporate ladder along with their male colleagues.

Instead  of  watching   the  phone  they  eyed  sales reports, promotion poss
ibilities  and  their  competi
tors. And even though  they didn’t have somebody to hug them in the evening, they could hug themselves in the  knowledge  that  they’d a hefty bank  balance and nobody to wreck their head over unironed shirts and uncooked meals.

Single women  could watch 
Pretty  Woman
,
Dirty Dancing
  and 
Pretty  in Pink
over and  over again  if they wanted  to. They could dance around the room to Destiny’s Child or eat an entire box of Milk Tray just because they felt like it and didn’t need some eejit of a man going to the ends of the earth to deliver the damn  box.

Best of all, single women  didn’t  have  to  put  up with men hinting that although they’d a great figure, they’d have an even
better
figure if they just went to the gym.

She was  better  off, Anna  decided.  She was  now free  to  live life the  way  she wanted  to.  When  her holidays  came  up  she could  head  off to  wherever she pleased and chat up who ever she wanted instead of having to go to some boring resort and rub cream on some man’s hairy back.

Oh yes, being single was pretty  fantastic.

Anna  drove  from  Galway  to  Dublin  with  a heavy heart. It  was  difficult  to  concentrate on  the  road. Okay, she  was  single  now  and  had  accepted  that but  it was  still  hard  to  completely  banish  Darren from  her  thoughts. She’d left several  messages  on his mobile.  But  no  return  calls followed.  Nothing. He’d simply disappeared off the face of the earth.

She was glad to b
e leaving Galway  for the week
end. Aoife was becoming  distraught, persecuted  by Anna’s  persistent  questions. 
Has  he not  rung  yet? Were you here all day? Do you think  he could have been trying  when  you  were  on  the  phone  to  your mother?
Because  even  though  Anna  had  come  to terms  with  being  single  again,   some  doubts   still niggled. Like maybe Darren had mislaid her number? Maybe his mobile  phone  had  been  stolen?  Maybe he’d been  sent to America  on  urgent  business?  Or been  involved  in a terrible  accident  and  was  lying on a life-support machine somewhere. There were a lot of maybes.  But nothing  could alter the fact that tomorrow was the big reunion  and  she’d be  going alone.  She’d had  three  months  to  get  herself  just one  miserable  man  for  this  event  and  had  failed. Unbelievable!

She  could  always  ask  Mark,   she  supposed,   as she  drew  up to  McDonald’s  to  break  the  journey. Mark  would  definitely  come  along  and  look  the part.  In fact he’d probably be honoured. And if she was completely honest  with  herself,
although  she’d rather die than admit it to anyone
,  deep down  she secretly believed  Mark  had  always  kind  of fancied her. He’d just proba
bly never plucked  up the cour
age to tell her how he really felt. He was probably afraid of rejection.  Just  like she was.  She stopped  the car. She was tired  of driving.  She was tired  full stop.  Tired  of all the pretence. Tired  of the games. Tired  of  ten  years  of  denying  how  she  really  felt about  Mark.  It was time to  stop  messing about.  It all  made  sense  really  when  she  thought about  it. Of course  Mark  fancied  her.  That  was the  reason why his relationships never worked  out. Those girls were never enough for a guy like Mark Landon.  He needed  a vivacious  woman.  He  needed  her.  Anna was the  woman   for  him.  So  why  had  it  taken  a harsh  rejection  from a player like Darren  for her to see the light?