She gave him a watery smile. ‘Perhaps you should
have a beer,’ she whispered.
John and Richard entered the room and shook
Anna’s hand formally. They were all business. Both
wore glasses. John’s hair was badly receding. Richard
was grey all over. Shocking. And these guys were
only in their mid-thirties! Well, Jake looked very
handsome indeed beside his two colleagues. Anna
decided she’d give him a second chance. After all
she shouldn’t be too quick to jump down people’s
throats.
‘Drinks, gentlemen?’ she offered.
‘I’ll have a white wine spritzer.’ John was folding
his grey rain mac.
‘And I’ll have a Ballygowan,’ said Richard, ‘No
ice.’
She fled the room.
‘I’m not going back in there.’ Anna slumped down
on one of the kitchen chairs and zapped the remote
control. ‘Oh,
Fair City
. Great.’
‘You don’t watch
Fair City
.’ Claire prodded the
Black Forest Gateau ice cream to see if it had begun
to thaw.
‘I do now.’
‘God, Anna, you have to make more of an effort.
You can be very unsociable at times.’
‘I’m sociable when I meet interesting people.’ Anna
popped a cherry tomato into her mouth when Claire
wasn’t watching. ‘It’s just that those guys in there . . .
well, they’d put a bloody insomniac into a coma. I
mean, I can’t understand it, they’re ugly men, right?
But they’ve good jobs and therefore probably had
no difficulty getting two wives for themselves. But
i
f you took two equivalent women, say, they’d
have a much harder time getting two husbands
because a lot of men prefer good-looking women
to women who have good careers. Do you see what
I mean? Women get a pretty raw deal when you
think about it.’
‘Listen,’ Claire moved the bowl of cherry tomatoes
out of Anna’s reach, ‘I don’t have time to be
contemplating life and all its faults. I’ve Simon and
Andrew to keep my mind full.’
‘Ah Claire, you’re becoming one of those women
we always swore we’d never become – you know,
babies, husbands, nappies, Volvos, bills and washing
machines.’
Claire feigned sudden shock. She peeled off her
apron, threw it on the table and placed her fists
defiantly on her slim hips. ‘I should throw you out,’
she threatened playfully.
‘I’ll only leave if you absolutely promise to come
on a girls’ night out tomorrow.’
‘It’s just that . . .’
‘I’m serious, now or never.’
‘Right, if it will shut you up.’
Anna stood up. ‘I’d stay and help you clean up and
that . . . but it’s been a long day and I don’t want to
get in anyone’s way . . .’
‘Go,’ Claire ordered and opened the kitchen door
into the hall.
‘Goodnight.’ She kissed her friend’s cheek. ‘Should
I go in and say goodnight to the lads?’
‘Better not,’ Claire said wisely. ‘I’ll give them your
regards. And eh . . . don’t worry about the student.
He didn’t sound that great to begin with.’
Anna closed the door behind her and the icy
January air immediately bit her uncovered skin. She
delved deep into her coat pockets to retrieve her
gloves. It was true. Steve wasn’t any great shakes.
And had never realistically been a contender for
Ideal Date of the Year
award. But still she wasn’t looking
forward to going back to the empty flat knowing that
the man who’d just rejected her was living under the
same roof. She began the walk home.
As she neared the house she noticed the lights in
the downstairs flat were on and the curtains hadn’t
been drawn. She wondered if the beautiful Claudine
had already flown in from the French capital and
whether she was now murmuring sweet nothings
into smitten Steve’s ear.
As she neared the front door, keys dangling in her
right hand, she heard loud voices. The door opened
slightly. Anna’s blood ran cold. Oh God, what was
she going to do?
She could always dive into the long grass that was
supposed to be a garden, but that would look pretty
pathetic. Desperate even. She took a deep breath and
a bold step forward.
Steve’s face appeared. He caught Anna’s eye like
a rabbit caught in unexpected headlights. They both
froze.
‘Er . . . Anna. How are you?’
‘Fine.’ Anna’s voice was stilted. She craned her
neck for a view of the buxom Brigitte Bardot. Instead
she was greeted by the sight of a slight, mousy-haired
girl of about five foot, dwarfed in an unflattering
dun-coloured coat. The girl smiled awkwardly,
revealing Bugs Bunny teeth.
‘Anna, this is Claudine,’ Steve introduced the two
girls without emotion.
‘
Enchantée
.’ Claudine held out a bony, ice-cold
hand.
Anna was flabbergasted. Surely . . . surely this
wasn’t her? She shook the French girl’s hand automatically.
‘I live upstairs,’ she said.
‘Superb.’ The foreign accent sounded bizarre.
Anna wasn’t sure what was superb about living
in a dingy little lifeless flat in Ranelagh but she said
nothing. If Claudine thought it was superb, let her.
Then again Anna might think it was superb herself if
she was here to visit the seductive Steve. And didn’t
realize he was a cheat. She caught his eye. He looked
guilty as hell. Good.
Anna bid them a frosty farewell and marched
upstairs to her own accommodation. Christ, she
couldn’t believe it was Friday night and once again
she hadn’t a damn thing planned. She wondered
where Steve and his amour were heading. Somewhere
really unromantic probably. Like a walk around the
block. Or a boring old drink in one of the local pubs.
Thank God she was rid of him,
she told herself half-heartedly
.
She turned on the fan heater and the radio.
Nothing but dance music. Damn. They always put on
dance music on a Friday evening to put people in the
mood for going out. Why weren’t there any stations
geared towards lonely thirty-year-old women who
preferred to sit in? Maybe she’d get ready and
pretend she was going out. Sure, didn’t they say
half the fun was getting ready? Yeah right!
The phone rang. Oh God, she really didn’t feel like
answering it. Let one of the nurses get it – it was
usually someone looking for one of them anyway. It
rang and rang. Oh no, just suppose it was someone
for her? But who could be ringing at nine o’clock
on a Friday night? The house was obviously empty.
The person on the other end of the phone was being
very persistent. Oh maybe she should answer it. It
could be an emergency. Reluctantly she made her
way downstairs.
‘Hello?’ she whispered, as though it could be a
nuisance caller.
‘Anna?’
Heavens! A male voice! Anna quickly racked her
brains to figure out which of her desperate exes had
the nerve to call her so late on a Friday evening and
presume she’d be in.
‘Who’s this?’ she asked warily.
‘Mark,’ the voice answered casually. Relief flooded
her. Thank God it was Mark and not some pervert
looking for one of the nurses. But relief soon
turned to indignation. What did he mean by ringing
her so late? Did he think she hadn’t got a life
or what?
‘Hello, Mark,’ her voice was politely cool, ‘what
can I do for you?’
‘Are you up to anything?’
‘I’m just getting ready to go out,’ she lied.
‘Oh where to?’
‘Into town and then off to Club Anabel to meet
some friends,’
Another lie
.
‘Oh! A few of my mates are heading there.’
‘Right.’ Oh Jesus! ‘Right, well I’m not one hundred
per cent sure if that’s where we are going. We might
go to Renards instead. Or Spy. Or straight to Leeson
Street. It depends how things go.’
‘I see,’ he sounded subdued. ‘That’s a pity because
I thought we could do something tonight. We haven’t
met up in ages.’
‘Well, if I’d had a bit more notice maybe . . .’
‘Right. Well, listen I’ll give you a lift into town,
it’s raining.’
‘Oh no!’ Anna practically shouted, ‘I’ll get the
bus.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, I insist.’
‘But what about Sally? Aren’t you meeting her
tonight?’ Anna was panicking.
‘She’s on call tonight.’
‘But someone might see us together and get the
wrong impression. It might get back to her.’
‘Don’t be daft,’ Mark laughed. ‘Anyway, Sally
doesn’t get jealous,’ he added.
Sally doesn’t get jealous
, Anna repeated spitefully
after putting down the phone. Isn’t she great
altogether? God, what kind of a mess had she gone
and got herself into now? She should ring him back
and tell him she’d made the whole thing up. Or that
Elaine had cancelled at the last minute. No, he’d
think she was sad. She went upstairs and started
to get ready. Had she a screw loose or what? she
seriously began to wonder as she smudged pink
lipstick on her cheeks to give them a healthy glow.
Did her image really mean that much to her? Or to
Mark? After all she didn’t fancy him and he didn’t
fancy her so what was the big hoo-ha all about?
‘By the way,’ she said to him half an hour later
as he stood in the doorway, ‘how did you know I
wasn’t out with Steve tonight?’
‘Oh that was easy,’ Mark grinned, ‘I saw him leaving
with some sallow-skinned bird a while ago.’
He opened the car door for her and she sat in the
passenger seat, fuming. ‘Seat belt on?’ He flashed
her a gleaming smile. He looked annoyingly good
this evening. And smelled even better.
‘Yes.’ Anna glanced at her watch absent-mindedly.
‘You’re not running late, are you?’ Mark looked
concerned.
‘No, no I’m meeting Elaine at ten.’
‘Elaine . . . have I met her now?’
‘No,’ Anna said firmly.
‘Is she single?’
‘Well . . . yes.’
‘Is she good looking?’
‘She certainly wouldn’t be interested in you,’ Anna
snapped. Immediately she regretted it. Sure wasn’t
Mark only trying to do her a favour? It wasn’t his
fault that she was leading him a merry dance. She’d
have to stop behaving like a pitbull terrier in his
company. It was terribly gauche.
He pulled up outside the Shelbourne Hotel. ‘Are
you sure you’ll be okay here?’
‘Fine,’ Anna grinned broadly at him, ‘honestly,
you go on. I’ll be just fine.’
‘Enjoy your night.’ At that moment Mark looked
totally stunning. She couldn’t believe she was about
to let him drive away because of some silly facade.
‘I will,’ she said. ‘Bye.’
She walked purposefully up the steps of the
Shelbourne Hotel, past the crowded reception area
and straight to the Ladies. She took a long hard
look at herself in the mirror. She hadn’t looked
this good in years. What a pity she was all dressed
up with nowhere to go. She opened her little black
handbag and took out her brush. Well, she had
to do something, hadn’t she? She couldn’t exactly
turn around and walk straight back out again. She
began to brush her hair. The Ladies was full of
ARMPITTS all vying for the mirror. Anna felt like
she was really in the way. Hair done, she fished out
her foundation and needlessly applied it. That lasted
about ten minutes. She brushed her hair again and
then wondered what to do. Was it safe to go back
out again? She stared hard at her image. She now
looked like a hooker who’d dumped her face into a
bucket of foundation. Excellent.