The Heartbreak Cafe (2 page)

And once
again Nina wondered what on earth she had let herself in
for.

‘
Hello Nina,’ Patrick said somewhat distractedly when she
reached the house a little after six. He stood back as she came
through the doorway.

‘
Hi Dad, how are you?’ She didn’t attempt to hug or embrace
him; theirs was not a hugging sort of relationship, but she did
feel slightly put out by her father’s almost casual indifference to
her appearance after so long. There was no great welcome, or no
sense of enthusiasm or interest in her visit.

OK,
perhaps it had been her own choice not to visit for so long, but it
still bothered her to think that her father had never once of his
own accord tried to spend time with her either. She’d also hoped he
might notice an improvement in her since the last time he’d seen
her – she’d lost over a stone in weight and her previously short
dark hair now reached well below her shoulders. But if Patrick
noticed any changes in her, he didn’t mention it.

‘
I’m fine, thanks. I was just having dinner. I made some for
you, but it might be a bit cold now,’ he told her and Nina
immediately identified the root of his agitation. She’d told
Patrick that she’d be here around six and it was now quarter past.
She was late.

‘
The bus just dropped me off down town, I thought I’d be
earlier….’ Then her voice trailed off as she wondered why she felt
the need to explain herself like this. It wasn’t as though she was
ten years old anymore. And she was ten minutes late, so what was
the big deal? ‘I hope you went ahead and had yours; there was no
need to wait for me and if it’s cold, I can always stick it in the
microwave.’

But she
knew there was no question of her father waiting for her arrival
before he ate his evening meal; as usual, he would eat without fail
in front of the six o’clock news and a visit from the daughter he
hadn’t seen in years would hardly change that.

‘
I was just watching the news,’ he said, confirming her
suspicions, and Nina inwardly rolled her eyes.

She
followed him into the living room, which hadn’t changed a bit since
the last time she was here, and dropped her bag on the sofa. Almost
immediately, Patrick shot the backpack an agitated look.

‘
I made up your old room,’ he said, which to Nina suggested
that she should stow it away upstairs rather than mess up his nice
tidy, living room.

‘
Thanks, I’ll unpack after I’ve had dinner if that’s OK – I’m a
bit tired after the bus journey.’ Again Nina hated the way she
always felt so awkward and ill at ease around him.

‘
That’s fine,’ he said non-committally as if she’d just told
him she didn’t want sugar in her tea. No offers to help her with
her things or questions about the journey, just Patrick’s typical
disinterested response, before he sat down in his armchair to watch
the TV.

Going
into the kitchen (which also hadn’t changed) Nina recalled exactly
why she’d stopped visiting her father all that time ago. His
constant lack of interest and almost downright indifference to her
was frustrating, and actually quite hurtful. She was in a fix, her
heart had been broken into a million pieces and like always, her
father just didn’t want to know.

Couldn’t
he at least pretend to be curious as to why she’d turned up at his
doorstep after all this time? Or was he so uninterested in her that
he couldn’t care less either way? He really was the complete
opposite of her loving, kind-hearted mother, who Nina knew was
beside herself with remorse for being so far away at such a
difficult time.

OK, so
she hadn’t particularly expected Patrick to welcome her home with
open arms and a box of Kleenex, but surely a simple enquiry about
her well-being wasn’t too much to ask?

Nina put
the plate of food he’d prepared for her into the microwave, and
while she waited for it to heat up, she looked around and marvelled
at her father’s fastidiousness. Despite having prepared dinner, the
kitchen was meticulous and there was no sign of food preparation
anywhere. Pots, pans and cooking utensils were already rinsed out
and neatly stacked in a pile ready to be washed, and there wasn’t a
drop of liquid or trace debris on any surface.

She
recalled how her father had always cleaned and tidied as he went,
instead of leaving piles of food packaging and vegetable peels on
every surface like her mother did. At dinnertime, her mother’s
kitchen always looked like a bomb had hit it, the complete opposite
of this calm, pristine space over which Patrick
presided.

The
microwave pinged and Nina reluctantly took her plate into the
living room to join her father in front of the TV.

‘
This is lovely,’ she commented, as she ate the boringly
old-fashioned dish he was so fond of, although the bacon was quite
nice.

But her
father just gave a distracted nod in response. OK, so he was
watching the news and probably didn’t want to get involved in inane
small talk until it was over, but couldn’t the world’s depressing
problems wait for one day?

‘
Did you get the kitchen units changed since I was here last?’
she piped up again, more out of politeness than anything else, as
she knew well Patrick hadn’t done a thing to the house in
years.

‘
I’m not sure,’ he replied, thinking seriously about it. ‘When
were you here last?’

‘
Eight years,’ she said, intentionally ramming the point home
that as she hadn’t been here in so long, the least he could have
done was got the welcome wagons out.

But
Patrick seemed oblivious. ‘No,’ he answered definitively, ‘they
haven’t been changed since then.’ With that, he picked up the
remote control and rudely turned up the TV volume. End of
conversation.

Right. So
much for her opening gambits, Nina thought. Still, she was
determined to make the effort even if he wasn’t. ‘The garden looks
well at this time of year with all the roses in full bloom, doesn’t
it?’

‘
Yes it does.’

‘
I noticed on the bus that there are lots of new houses on the
way in. I suppose the town is full of blow-ins now,’ she added
jokingly, but her father obviously didn’t get the joke or just
wasn’t interested, as again he just nodded impassively and
continued watching TV.

Deflated
and no longer hungry, Nina pushed the remainder of the food around
on her plate. ‘Um Dad … thanks for dinner, but I’m feeling a bit
tired now. I think I might just go upstairs.’

Still
Patrick didn’t look away from the TV. ‘OK Nina,’ he said, as his
daughter picked up her backpack and trundled upstairs to her old
room, wondering already if she’d made yet another big
mistake.

Jess
Armstrong was having enormous difficulty trying to decide between
the Fendi and the Prada. The former was pebbled brown leather and
gold hardware; the latter squishy calfskin embellished with tiny
lavender flowers.

If she
were buying the handbag for herself it wouldn’t be an issue, but
trying to pick one that was special enough as a gift while also
being practical to suit Emer’s day-to-day lifestyle was a real
challenge. The elegant Fendi was the obvious choice of course, but
the Prada was so pretty and had way more of a wow factor, didn’t
it?

And Jess
really wanted her best friend to be wowed by her birthday present –
she deserved it.

Ten
months ago Emer had given birth to her first child, little Amy, but
had found the initial transition to motherhood difficult and Jess
had been really worried about her. The two had been friends for
many years, and when Emer in the early days admitted to Jess she
was struggling, she tried her utmost to help in every way she
could; a shoulder to cry on, someone to talk to, but mostly just to
be there as much as possible for her friend during such a difficult
period. Thankfully, Emer had come through the worst though, and
these days, was taking to family life like the proverbial duck to
water.

So this
and the fact that her friend’s thirty-fifth birthday was this
weekend was reason enough for Jess to want to spoil her with
something extra special. They weren’t usually so extravagant in
their gifts to one another and she knew Emer would be blown away by
such a lavish present. Which was exactly the point.

‘
I just can’t decide,’ she said to the Brown Thomas store
assistant, who confused her even further by suggesting a temptingly
beautiful petrol blue patent Alexander McQueen.

Jess
resisted the urge to chew on a strand of honey blonde hair – an
awful childhood habit that she could never quite break – as she
wondered if patent might actually be a good idea for a new mum; it
would be more practical for baby stains, wouldn’t it? Yet, at the
same time she couldn’t see Emer wandering around Lakeview with a
bright blue space-aged style McQueen, she’d definitely get some
weird looks from the locals.

While
less than an hour’s drive from Dublin on the motorway, Lakeview was
very much your quintessential Irish small town, locally owned pubs
and shops and a gorgeous café along one short street, surrounded by
pretty older houses, and lavish, sprawling newer ones further out –
all centred round the large oxbow lake.

Emer and
her husband had moved there on the advice of other mutual friends
Deirdre and Kevin who had already relocated there – the houses in
Lakeview were larger and much cheaper than anything available in
Dublin, and the quieter pace of life perfect for growing families.
Jess loved visiting her friends down there and harboured the odd
hope that she and Brian might one day follow the other couples in
setting up home in the area, but at the same time her hubby was a
Dub through and through, and she knew he’d miss the cut and thrust
of city life. In truth, Jess would probably miss it too. It was
lovely to visit a sleepy place like Lakeview for a couple of hours
and enjoy the laid-back way of things, but after a while the
quieter pace of life might very well be grating.

Eventually deciding on the lavender Prada (to hell with
practicality) Jess left the store and headed out into the late
afternoon sunshine towards St Stephen’s Green shopping centre where
her car was parked. It was a beautifully sunny May day, and for
once she got to make proper use of her Ray Bans instead of just
perching them on the top of her head like she usually did. Grafton
Street was especially buzzy on days like this; the street
performers and late-evening shoppers were out in force, and she
smiled as she sauntered along, jauntily swinging the striped Brown
Thomas carrier bag.

On her
way, she couldn’t resist nipping into a nearby gift store to pick
up a cute teddy bear for little Amy. Well, her niece deserved a
treat too, didn’t she? Not that Amy was really her niece, but she
was the closest thing Jess was going to get to one, as she herself
was an only child.

And Emer
was as good as any sister. They’d known one another for what seemed
like forever but in reality was only about fifteen years when
they’d met on the first day of college at DIT. Having both
graduated with marketing degrees, they’d taken up work at the same
Dublin-based drinks distribution company, and while Emer had in the
meantime given up the job, moved to Lakeview and started a family,
Jess was still working with the same company. Well, in theory at
least, as the small Irish firm had since been taken over and
re-branded under the massive international Piccolo label. The
company was responsible for the majority of Irish premium brand
alcoholic beverages, and Jess’s recently promoted role to marketing
manager for Ireland was to ensure that their key brands remained
fresh and desirable to the drinking public both here and
internationally. And speaking of which…as she passed by a popular
tourist pub, Jess was gratified to see that the majority of
customers sitting outdoors were enjoying the sunshine over longneck
bottles of Piccolo’s current brand leader.

If only
her latest campaign could so easily convince Brian, she thought
fondly. Her hubby just couldn’t be persuaded to switch from his
lifetime favourite, Guinness, to Piccolo’s equivalent, Porters,
much to his wife’s chagrin. She’d tried hundreds of times
throughout their seven-year marriage to persuade him of Porters’
merits, but he just couldn’t be turned. His doggedness (or
contrariness as Jess called it) was something that amused their
friends no end, and something that frustrated her in equal
measures, but as it was just about the only thing he did that
annoyed her she could certainly live with it. Jess shook her head
in silent amazement. Seven years now. It was hard to believe she
and Brian had been married that long, especially when it still felt
almost like only seven months. He was a great friend, confidant and
her absolute soul mate, and she didn’t know what she would do
without him. Although she had no choice but to do without him this
week at least, as he was away with work in Singapore and wouldn’t
be back until Sunday night.

Well,
she’d have plenty to occupy her until then. Having been out every
single night this week at work-related parties and events, tonight
would be a rare night in, and Jess planned to go home and have a
good long soak in the bath, which should help recharge the
batteries. Tomorrow afternoon she’d pop down to Lakeview for a
visit and give Emer and Amy their presents.