‘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?