Pieces of My Heart (10 page)

‘And next time you come here, keep your hands to yourself,’ Paul added.

‘Ah, he’s only normal. Have you forgotten what it feels like to be sixteen?’ Charlie remonstrated.

‘I remember it only too well, which is why I want him to know I’ll be keeping a very close eye on him.’

‘Relax, Dad,’ said Sarah. ‘It’s not like we were having sex.’

‘I’ll have less cheek from you,’ said Paul, then turned to Bobby. ‘OK, son, sling your hook.’

Bobby stared at him blankly.

‘Dad’s a bogger. He’s from Galway. Half the time I don’t understand him either,’ said Sarah. ‘He means you have to leave.’

‘Oh, right. Cool. I thought he wanted to go fishing or something.’

‘No, he’s kicking you out. I was going to ask you to stay for dinner, but I wouldn’t inflict this hostile environment on you,’ said Sarah.

‘It’s OK, babe. I just need to get my bag.’

‘Where is it?’ I inquired.

‘In my bedroom,’ Sarah said.

‘Go and get it. Your boyfriend can wait here,’ said Paul.

While Sarah fetched the bag, Bobby shuffled uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

‘So, are you still playing rugby?’ Charlie asked him.

‘Totally. I spend all of my spare time training, doing weights and generally trying to make my body a temple. I need to be in the best shape possible so I can become a professional.’

‘Is that your career aspiration? To be a professional rugby player?’ Paul wanted to know.

‘Totally.’

‘What about your studies? What about college?’

‘Hello! Can you not give my boyfriend the third degree?’ Sarah walked back into the room with Bobby’s bag slung over her shoulder.

‘You’d want to mind the roaming hands, Bobby. My son-in-law keeps a gun in the house. He might shoot you next time,’ Charlie said, chuckling to himself.

‘Charlie!’ I said, furious that he’d mentioned the gun.

‘Seriously, guys, I’ve known about the gun for ever,’ Sarah said.

Bobby looked terrified. ‘I just want you to know, Mr Mullen, that I, like, totally respect your daughter and would never do anything out of order. Sarah is in safe hands.’

‘Well, you just make sure to keep those safe hands in your pockets or on a rugby ball,’ said Paul.

Sarah walked Bobby to the door, then came back in and rounded on us. ‘Why did you have to be so rude? He’s, like, the coolest boyfriend ever and now he’ll probably dump me because you threatened to, like, assassinate him if he looked at me sideways.’

‘I’ve had enough of your cheek,’ Paul told her. ‘Go to your room, you’re grounded.’

‘What? You can’t do this to me,’ she screeched.

‘Go now before I send you to a convent boarding school that’ll put manners on you.’

‘Muuuuum, do something,’ my younger daughter pleaded.

‘You were very rude to your father. I agree with his decision.’

‘Grounded for how long?’

Paul thought about it. ‘Until Christmas.’

Sarah gasped. ‘That’s a couple of months away. Charlie, help me!’

‘Sorry, pet, they’ve grounded me too,’ he said, going into the kitchen.

Sarah stomped up the stairs, muttering under her breath.

Paul sank down into the couch. ‘Interesting day.’

‘Never a dull moment in this house.’ I sat down beside him.

‘I don’t like that fella.’

‘I think he’s OK, actually. He was mortified when he was caught and you scared the life out of him.’

‘Good, because sixteen-year-old boys think of nothing but sex and how to get it.’

‘All the time?’

‘Every minute of every day.’

‘Well, I know she’s not having sex with him.’

‘How?’

‘Because I read her emails and she told her latest best friend Alex that she was going to make him wait at least six months.’

‘Why?’

‘So she could be sure he really loved and respected her.’

‘Good for her.’

‘She has incredible self-confidence. I wish Ali had more of it.’

‘She seems a bit happier, these days.’

‘A little, but she’s still pretty down. Mind you, having to see the guy you’re mad about all over someone else every day must be awful.’

‘The year will fly and she’ll be in college soon, surrounded by new fellas.’

‘It’s mad to think I met you in my first term in college.’

‘Who’d have thought we’d still be here twenty-four years later?’

‘No one.’ I laughed. ‘They all thought it was a fling.’

‘We haven’t done too badly.’ Paul put his arm around me. ‘Two lovely girls, a nice house, jobs we enjoy … I think we’ve done well.’

‘Me too.’ I smiled and as I turned to kiss him, he leant down and pulled out his laptop. ‘That reminds me, I need to check how that new barman’s working out on his first night.’

11

I was clearing up after dinner when my phone rang. It was Sally. ‘I’ve just been on the date from hell. Can you meet me for a drink? I’m desperate.’

‘You poor thing. I’ll see you in the pub in twenty minutes.’

‘Thanks, Ava.’

‘What’s up?’ Sarah was painting her nails at the kitchen table.

‘Sally’s had a really bad date.’

‘God, I’m so glad I’m out of the dating scene.’ Sarah rolled her eyes. ‘It’s a jungle out there.’

I suppressed the urge to laugh. ‘So it’s still going well with Bobby, in spite of your father threatening him?’

‘I have to be honest, Mum, we’re the coolest couple in school.’

‘How exactly do you know this?’

‘Duh, because everyone keeps saying how amazing we are together and how we’re made for each other.’

‘You haven’t been seeing each other very long. Take it slowly. Don’t jump in head first – look at poor Ali.’

‘You cannot compare us. David was never in love with Ali. She was totally obsessed with him and he really liked her, but she was always way more into him. Bobby thinks I rock. Seriously, Mum, you don’t need to worry about me.’

‘I’m glad you’re happy. I wish Ali could meet someone nice.’

‘Me too! She’s no fun any more. All she does is work.’

‘It takes time to get over a broken heart. We need to be patient and kind to her.’

‘I am. I just wish she’d liven up a bit. She’s got really quiet.’

‘Hopefully she’ll perk up soon. Maybe some other boy will catch her eye.’

‘Not if she continues to walk around like a zombie.’

‘Come on now, she’s had a very public break-up. It’s not easy for her.’

‘She didn’t even try my ten-step plan. She should listen to me – I know guys.’

‘You do seem to have it all worked out. Maybe I should give your ten-step plan to Sally. I’d better go, pet. I’ll see you later.’

‘Say hi to Sally – poor her, he must have been horrendous.’

‘Who’s horrendous?’ Charlie walked into the kitchen.

‘Sally’s just run away from a bad date. I’m going to meet her for a drink.’

‘Enjoy yourself. I’ll hold the fort – and be sure to tell her I’m always available.’

When I arrived at the Drift Inn – Paul and I had thought up the name one drunken night and loved it – Sally was sitting at the bar talking to Paul.

He looked up and smiled at me. Sometimes I forgot how handsome he was. The surfing had given him a rugged tan and kept him very fit. He had that strong jaw, which on a man was very sexy, and dark brown eyes, and although his black hair was thinning a little at the back, he still had most of it.

‘Sally’s having a double vodka. Apparently it was very bad.’

‘I’ll have a –’

‘Mojito?’

‘I was going to say white wine but, yeah, a mojito would be great.’

‘Coming right up.’ He winked at me. I watched him walk away, admiring his bum. It was nice – I hadn’t felt so attracted to him in ages. Maybe I should hang around the bar more often.

I sat up beside Sally. ‘If it’s any consolation you look gorgeous,’ I said. She was wearing a midnight-blue wrap dress, which showed off her tiny, gym-toned waist, with killer heels. I felt a bit frumpy in my jeans and flat boots.

‘It’s a waste of a good dress and makeup,’ she said. ‘Honestly, Ava, I’m too old for shitty blind dates.’

‘I thought you were being a bit shifty today in work. Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘Because I didn’t want you getting your hopes up and I didn’t want me getting my hopes up and I knew deep down it would be a bloody disaster,’ she said.

I could see she was fighting back tears. I took her hand in mine. ‘I’m sorry it was bad. You poor thing. It’s such bad luck.’

‘Well, that’s it. I’ll never go on a date again. I’m hanging up my boots and dusting off my place on the shelf. If my sisters ever mention another blind date, I’ll slap them.’

‘I know this sounds like a silly platitude but I really believe you’ll meet someone. You’re such a brilliant person, funny, feisty, beautiful, clever –’

Sally put her hand up. ‘Stop! Thanks for the ego boost but I’m swearing off men.’

‘So what exactly happened?’

‘My brother-in-law Martin set me up on a blind date with a new client of his called Jake. He’s recently moved back to Dublin after twenty years in New York and wanted to meet someone.’

‘Very promising,’ I said.

‘I thought so too. When Martin rang I asked him the usual questions – is he married? Recently divorced? Gay? Scarred by a fire that left him with only half a face? Ugly? Bad breath? Et cetera.’

‘So, you covered your angles.’

‘You have to, believe me. I’ve met enough freaks. It turned out that Jake had never been married, is not gay and has normal-smelling breath. So I decided to throw caution to the wind and go for it.’

‘I’m not surprised. He sounded good on paper.’

‘Exactly!’ Sally thumped her fist on the bar. ‘So then I Googled him and he’s also really good-looking, so I started to get my hopes up, which is a really bad idea. He’s handsome and he’s lived away for years so he was new and interesting.’

‘Seemed perfect.’

‘That’s what I thought. So I emailed him, keeping it light and breezy, and he emailed straight back, and he was funny and flirty. We had some banter back and forth. At this stage I’m thinking, He’s too good to be true – which, of course, he was.’

‘But how could you know? It was all looking so positive.’

‘I know, and I spent a bloody fortune getting my legs and bikini-line waxed – there’s the definition of hope – my hair blow-dried, a manicure and a pedicure. I put on my sexiest underwear and this dress, which you always say brings out my eyes.’

‘It does. You look drop-dead gorgeous.’

‘Waste of bloody money …’

Sally explained that when she went to meet Jake in Brooks, a wine bar, she’d had butterflies in her stomach for the first time in ages.

‘There she is!’ an American voice boomed.

Jake was swaying on a bar stool. He had clearly been there a while. Maybe he was just nervous. She walked over and shook his hand.

‘Come on, babe, you can do better than that,’ he said, kissing her on the lips. The alcohol fumes nearly knocked her out.

‘Relax there, Jake. It’s only seven o’clock,’ she said, pulling back.

‘What’ll you have? Gin? Wine? Whiskey?’

‘A glass of white wine would be great.’ Sally sat up beside him and crossed her legs.

‘Nice pins.’ Jake grinned. ‘You’re in good shape for an older woman.’

‘I’m forty-three, not sixty,’ Sally retorted.

‘My last girlfriend was twenty-two.’

‘Bully for you.’ Sally took a large sip of wine.

‘Did Martin tell you I lived in New York for twenty years?’

‘Yes, but I think I would have guessed from your strong American accent.’

‘It’s the best goddamn city in the world.’

‘So how are you finding being back?’

‘The weather’s shit, the women are dogs – present company excluded – and the service is crap.’

‘You’re settling in well, then.’

Oblivious to her comment, Jake summoned the barman. ‘Hey, buddy, I’m waiting on a Jack Daniel’s and Coke. Are you fucking brewing the stuff out back or what?’

Sally was mortified. Everyone was looking at them and she could see people shaking their heads and whispering, ‘Ignorant American.’

‘Why don’t you tone it down a bit? The whole angry-New-York thing is a bit over to the top.’

Jake thumped the bar with his fist. ‘That’s the problem with Irish people. You’re all so fucking meek and mild. Bad service is not accepted in the US. If you order a drink, it comes right up. Here, you could be waiting all day while the barman chats to his friend or disappears for a fucking cigarette. If you don’t complain, you’ll never change it.’

‘I think you’re wrong. Irish people – of which you are one, in case you forgot – aren’t meek and mild. We’re just not aggressive and belligerent. To us, meeting someone for a drink is more about the conversation you’re having than the speed at which the drink is served.’

‘Why can’t you have both – good service and good conversation?’

‘You can. The service here is fine. You ordered the drink two minutes ago and it’s on its way. How thirsty can you be?’

‘It’s Friday night, baby, so I’m very thirsty. Did Martin tell you what I do?’

‘Something with hedge funds?’

‘I was head-hunted to come and run one here for Cooks Brokers. These guys haven’t a fucking clue how to run a fund. They’re trading Mickey Mouse sums. If you want big returns, you’ve got to take risks, invest big and short sell.’

‘Isn’t it hard to find investors in the downturn?’

‘Honey, no one says no to Jake Doran. I’m a fucking legend in this business. My reputation precedes me. I’ve made millions for all my clients and myself. They used to call me the Terminator because I had nerves of fucking steel.’

‘I see. How does working here compare with New York? I remember when I first came back from London –’

‘There is no comparison,’ Jake cut across her. ‘People here have no idea what real pressure is. They think working until eight is late. I pulled all-nighters two, three times a week. I was on Tokyo, New York and London time. People here think they work hard – they have no fucking idea.’

‘That’s very unfair –’ Sally tried to get her point across, but was shot down again. The Terminator was on a roll.

‘It’s like the healthcare system here. Everyone pisses and moans about it, but no one does anything.’