‘Mr Evans, I hardly got a wink of sleep,’ she said
truthfully, ‘I feel wretched.’
‘Is it something you consumed?’
‘Very possibly.’ Anna couldn’t believe how well
she was doing and she didn’t even have to lie.
‘Do you feel well enough to come in?’
‘If I really had to I would, but to be honest . . .’
‘Listen, Anna, if it’s a bug I don’t want it going
around the store. Take today off and we’ll see you
tomorrow if you’re feeling better then.’
‘Yes, Mr Evans, I’m so sorry about all of this. I
promise to rest myself, don’t worry.’
The door of the downstairs flat opened and Steve
appeared in a black T-shirt and boxers. His hair was
all messy and cute. He winked at her. ‘That’s right,
Mr Evans, I think I’ll head back to bed right this
minute. Goodbye, Mr Evans.’ She hung up.
‘Nice one,’ Steve grinned.
‘Did I sound convincing enough?’
‘I almost believed you myself. Anyway why would
he doubt you? It’s Wednesday. People don’t usually
ring in with hangovers on a Wednesday.’
‘That’s true.’
‘And you promised your boss you’d do something
straightaway. Now I’m going to see to it that promises
don’t get broken.’
Herbert Park was quiet apart from the ducks and
a couple of joggers. Anna and Steve strolled hand
in hand across the grass. Anna was wearing his red
woolly hat in case anybody from work recognized
her. They sat on the deserted kiddies’ swings and
talked about life. He’d travelled a lot. As had she.
He loved animals. Anna also loved animals. He loved
art. So did she
now
. Neither of them mentioned the
French girl and Anna had no intention of bringing
her up.
It was late when they got back. The house was
quiet. He made her tea. They listened to music. He
was still too young to go to the party, Anna decided,
but not too young to fall in love with. For a while.
‘Anna, what a surprise!’ Claire held the door open
with one hand, Andrew was supported by the other.
‘Why aren’t you at work?’
Anna leaned forward and planted a kiss on Andrew’s
soft baby cheek. She stepped into the hallway. ‘Sorry
to butt in like this but it’s an emergency.’
‘What’s new?’
‘I would have phoned but I couldn’t. Long story.’
‘You should get yourself a mobile.’
‘No way, I can’t stand the things. I really don’t
understand why people want to make themselves
available twenty-four hours a day. Do you know
what I saw the other day? This couple walking
down Baggot Street hand in hand, both talking on
their mobiles. It was so sad.’
‘Come into the kitchen and relax. It’s nice and
warm in there.’
They sat down. Andrew tugged his mother’s hair
and gurgled. It was as if he knew something was up.
‘Well?’ Claire raised her eyebrows.
‘I met a man,’ Anna announced, pleased as punch.
‘Where?’
‘At home in Ranelagh.’
‘I knew it!’
‘What? You couldn’t possibly . . .’
‘You always sort of had a thing for Mark!’
‘I did not.’
‘Did too. You were always going on about how
good looking he was.’
‘I was not,’ Anna said indignantly. ‘I still think
he’s good looking, but I would certainly not get
involved with him. God, no. Anyway, it’s somebody
else. His name’s Steve. He’s a twenty-three-year-old
engineering student who looks like a God and has
the sensitivity of an angel.’
‘Oh please, I’ve heard it all now.’
‘I’m serious, Claire, this could be the one.’
‘The one? Anna,
I’m
serious, I’m beginning to
think you’re a burger short of a Big Mac. You’re
old enough to be his mother!’
‘Age shouldn’t be an obstacle in the path of true
love,’ Anna spoke solemnly.
‘It’ll never work.’
‘You always say that.’
‘And I’ve been right . . . so far.’
‘Well done.’
‘Listen,’ Claire wiped Andrew’s dribbling mouth
with his bib, ‘I don’t want to be the one to put a
dampener on things, but seven years is too . . .’
‘You’re right, I’ll go straight home and tell him to
stay the hell away from me.’
‘Just be careful, that’s all.’
Steve held the big green door open, a deep-red rose
between his teeth.
‘How did you know it was me? It could have been
the landlord,’ Anna giggled.
‘I was watching you come down the road. Hungry?’
‘Starving.’
‘It’s just as well I’m cooking.’
‘Is there anything you can’t do?’
She followed him into his flat; a rich smell of
curry came from the kitchen. Yummy. The phone
rang outside.
‘Can you get that?’ Steve asked. ‘By the time you
come back in dinner will be served.’
Anna stepped out into the hallway and picked up
the phone.
‘Hello?’
Please let it not be my mother
, she begged.
‘Allo?’ The voice seemed very far away.
‘Hello, yes?’
‘Allo, ees Stephan zere?’
‘Er no . . . he’s not here at the moment. Who’s
this?’
‘Claudine, ’ee told me ee’d be ’ome zees evening.’
‘Did he now?’
‘Can you give message?’
‘All right.’
‘Tell ’im I ’ave bought my plane teecket and I will
be in Irlande zees Friday.’
The silver Mercedes convertible screeched to a halt,
soaking Anna’s silk stockings.
‘Jesus Christ,’ she cried as she spotted the dirty
spatters all across her Pretty Polly legs.
‘Would you like a lift?’ Mark Landon stuck his
head out of the driver’s window.
‘Oh, I might as well,’ Anna muttered ungraciously
and opened the passenger door. ‘And could you stop
off at a shop so I can replace my stockings.’
‘Now you’re pushing it,’ Mark laughed. He looked
well. Mark always took care of himself. Today he
wore a sharp charcoal-grey suit, a crisp white shirt
and a royal-blue tie. His aftershave was strong and
he looked exquisite. He edged his way into the thick
Dublin traffic.
‘You’re looking well,’ Mark said. It was always
the first thing he said to her. It didn’t matter if she
was posting a letter with a face full of spots and a
head full of chip grease or if she’d just spent four
hours in the hairdressers.
‘Thank you,’ Anna replied dryly. ‘So do you.’
‘How’s the love life?’ That was always Mark’s first
question. God, she could read him like a book.
‘Great.’
Mark gave her a puzzled look. This wasn’t the
answer he usually got. And he wasn’t going to be
satisfied with a monosyllabic answer.
‘Who is he?’
‘That’s for me to know and you to find out.’
‘You’re very annoying. I will find out, you know.’
‘Oh I know.’
‘Is he . . . he’s not famous or anything?’
‘No.’
‘Thank God for that.’ A pause. ‘Was he at UCD?’
‘Actually . . . yes, kind of.’
He’s there now
.
‘I’d probably know him then, wouldn’t I?’
‘No.’
‘I give up.’
‘So how’s your love life?’
‘I’m still going out with Sally.’
‘Still?’ Anna knitted her eyebrows. ‘Last time I
spoke to you it was Elourda.’
‘Oh yeah, it didn’t work out between Ellie and
myself.’
‘You mean you dumped her?’
‘You know I’ve no intention of answering that.’
‘So Sally is girlfriend of the month. Let me guess,
what does she look like . . . tall, blonde, busty,
vacant-looking?’
‘Don’t be nasty, I wouldn’t be nasty about your
man.’
‘You should meet him.’
‘Where does he live?’
‘With me.’
‘What!’ Mark nearly crashed the car.
‘He lives in the flat downstairs.’
‘You mean he’s one of the students?’
‘Yep.’
‘Cradlesnatcher.’
‘See, I knew you’d be nasty.’
He stopped the car outside Lolta’s. She got out and
smiled, ‘Thanks for the lift, Mark. See you soon.’
‘Sure and good luck with the student.’
‘Yeah and good luck with silly Sally.’
‘She’s not silly.’
‘What is she – a nail technician?’
‘A doctor.’
Anna closed the passenger door firmly, waved
brightly and walked away quickly. Shit, she really
put her foot in that one. She hated Mark to outsmart
her. And she hated him to be going out with someone
intelligent. The bimbos she didn’t mind – she could
ridicule them privately and know that Mark would
soon get bored. But a female doctor? Now she didn’t
like the sound of that. Doctors were very serious
about everything.
As a department manager the trouble with a day
off was that you’d twice the workload the following
day. Because no one else could do your work for
you. Elaine only knew about footwear. Conor only
knew about household and Maggie only knew about
children’s wear. That’s the way things worked in
Lolta’s. Nobody knew anything about anything.
Except June. And she knew too much.
June was a funny creature. Not funny as in ha! ha!
But as in weird. And sad really when you thought
about it. Because although June had donated her
whole life to Lolta’s would she ever get thanked for
it? Never. And neither would Elaine. And that was
the truth. Manager or not, you were still another
number on the payroll and the day you left that
number would promptly be deleted from the computer.
Fact.
Anna had entered the retail business after stints
at working in shops and bars all across Europe.
People often questioned her choice of career – the
long hours and constant dealings with the public.
But Anna could not even imagine working in, say,
an office with people constantly breathing down her
neck all day. At least in Lolta’s she was given a good
bit of responsibility and no two days were ever the
same. One day she’d have her own store and run
it the way she wanted to. But there was no point
leaving Lolta’s until she had as much experience as
possible. Her main issue with Lolta’s was her dislike
of the clothes; the head buyers there had a penchant
for poor quality clothing that would soon be found
in heaps in fields all around Ireland whenever the
travelling community decided to move on.
‘Anna!’ A piercing shriek broke her thoughts. June
was looking for sales of the hideous flowery skirts
brought in yesterday.
‘We haven’t sold any,’ Anna explained. ‘It’s too
early. People aren’t going to buy that stuff in January.’
Or any time unless they’re colour blind
.
‘I suggest you stick one in the window display.
Match it with a catchy top.’
Here we go again
, Anna thought. ‘Do we have a
catchy top?’
June gave her a cold, hard stare. ‘I’ll leave it to
you,’ she said frostily.
‘Bridget, can I have a word?’
Bridget was one of the part-time girls. A pleasant,
hard-working girl with bobbed brown hair and
glasses. She hurried over to the desk looking terribly
anxious.