‘When were you last here?’ Aisling asked.
‘Oh, sometime in the late sixties. I had even longer hair then and so did she. We spent a lot of time sitting in a semicircle in St Stephen’s Green with other long haired young people talking about the meaning of life.’ He made a peace sign and Aisling and Evie laughed. ‘Remember how we crashed on the floor of that communal flat at night, Emblyn?’
‘I do. We’d never get up again if we did that now. The emergency services would have to be called.’
‘Well now I think you’ll find your bed here much comfier than the floor. I imagine you’ll find Dublin quite different on this visit, but the heart of the city is still the same.’ Aisling offered to help with their case and show them to their room.
‘No, we’ll be fine thank you. We travel lightly. Sketch books, and a few changes of clothes. Evie here has informed us of where we’ll find everything we need. Now then, first floor, three doors down on the right. Come on Emblyn, let’s get settled in and then see about having a pint of Ireland’s finest.’
Aisling recommended they check out Quinn’s. She knew there was live music there tonight and it was only a short walk from the guest house. ‘Don’t hesitate to ask if you need anything. We’re here to help and have a wonderful stay,’ she called after them as they trooped up the stairs.
‘I’m going to head up myself Evie, give me a buzz if you need me.’
Evie grabbed hold of Aisling’s arm before she too disappeared up the stairs startling Aisling with her vice like grip. She inclined her head toward the guest lounge, her eyes popping as she whispered, ‘He’s in there.’
‘Who?’
‘Yer man, Marcus.’ Evie’s voice was full of the drama of it all.
Aisling’s breath caught in her throat as the thoughts raced through her head. He knew she was back, he’d have heard her voice. She’d have to go through and see him because she couldn’t very well leave him sitting there. If Moira were to come home and spot him reclining on their sofa, there’d be hell to pay. For the briefest of seconds she wondered about hiding and sending Evie in to do her dirty work, but she knew that would be beyond childish.
Be calm, be civilised, breathe slowly, and tell him to feck off Aisling! She told herself licking her lips. They’d gone paper dry, she’d not put lipstick on since finishing her lunch and her hair had been whipped by the seafront wind. She wished Evie wasn’t sitting there because she’d have dug out her makeup purse and tidied herself up before throwing herself in the lion’s den. She didn’t want to give the younger girl gossip fodder though, not knowing she was friendly with Ita. She could just imagine what the pair of them would say if they got their heads together. Aisling was all concerned with looking her best! She obviously wanted him to see what he’d missed out on, that or she wants him back.
No, she’d been humiliated enough when he’d left and Evie, for all that the guests thought she was marvellous, and for all her feigned wide-eyed innocence was quite the scandalmonger. For that reason she wiped the panicked look off her face. She took a steadying breath and thanked Evie for letting her know in a voice that did not betray the fact her insides had jellified. She held her head high and marched past the front desk and through into the guest lounge.
Chapter 22
There he was. Larger than life seated in one of the wingback chairs flicking through a magazine as though he didn’t have a care in the world. His lack of interest in the magazine’s content was evident in the speed with which he was flicking through the pages.
‘Hello Marcus,’ she said coming to a halt behind the sofa opposite him. His physical presence filled the room and she held onto the back of the sofa to steady herself. She’d deliberately blocked the path between them by standing where she was. There would no cordial hello kiss. Not on her watch.
He put the magazine down on the coffee table and stood up. His smile was wide too wide and he looked delighted to see her. He was wearing the same Oasis shirt as yesterday she noticed wondering if he’d done so deliberately, given it had been a gift from her. A subtle reminder of happier times. Now he was at closer proximity she could see his face looked a little thinner and she watched as he rubbed at the stubble on his chin. It wasn’t like him not to be clean shaven and she forced herself to meet his gaze. His hair was longer too, curling at the collar instead of the short back and sides he favoured for work. As for those swoony dark eyes, they might look tired, but they were still having that same knee weakening effect on her.
‘Ash! God it’s good to see you. I hope you don’t mind me waiting for you here?’ He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial level. ‘I couldn’t face listening to Evie going on about how her trip to London to see Boyzone perform at the Party in the Park was the best thing that’s ever happened to her any longer.’
She wanted to smile, but she refused to. His easy breezy way irked her. Why wasn’t he on edge like she was? When she’d first met him it was this natural confidence of his that had attracted her to him. He had a practicality about him, an ability to take control of situations. His swarthy looks had whispered of a broodiness she’d wanted to tame. Those looks were deceptive she’d soon realised. Her imagination had outdone itself because Marcus worked in numbers at the bank he was not a swashbuckling pirate. Nor did he have an intense deep side to him. What you saw was what you got with Marcus. Or at least that’s what she’d thought.
She supposed with everything going on in her life when she’d moved back to Dublin, Marcus had been what she needed. Someone who’d take control and steer her down the unfamiliar path she’d found herself on because after Dad’s passing, she’d been well and truly lost. Looking at him it occurred to her she didn’t know what she’d expected of him—that he would have changed in the year since they parted. A grovelling apology wasn’t his style. Already he’d managed to put her on the back-foot which was ridiculous given he was on her territory.
‘Why are you here Marcus?’ She managed to rouse herself to ask.
‘You haven’t replied to any of my letters.’ He shrugged as though this were the obvious answer.
‘Because I had nothing to say to you. You said what you wanted to say in the note you left me when you took off to Cork. You spelled things out pretty clearly.’
‘Ah Ash, that’s not true. There’s loads to say.’
Those eyes held hers and her heart began to beat a little too fast. She didn’t want to still find him attractive. Pretend he’s Bono, Aisling. She hummed the first few bars of Pride but the phone ringing jolted her, and she lost her thread. Evie would be cursing it no doubt. She’d not be able to eavesdrop and talk on the phone, that sort of multitasking wasn’t in her repertoire. Aisling weakened as Marcus continued to look pleadingly at her.
‘Not here.’
He glanced at his watch, ‘Dinner?’ then back at her hopefully.
She didn’t want to sit in some cosy little restaurant listening to him blather about fresh starts. She needed to stay here on her own turf and tough it out.
‘Moira’s not going to be home for a while. We can talk upstairs.’
He got to his feet and Aisling turned away, not wanting him to see her face lest the thoughts she couldn’t control were written all of it. He was a fine-looking man alright. She used to imagine what their babies would look like. Wonder whether they would have her strawberry blonde colouring or his dark features? She’d figured they’d have his, having read somewhere that brown was the dominant gene and that was fine by her.
Evie’s eyes bored into her as she informed whoever was on the phone that they did indeed have a double room available for the twenty-first overlooking the Green. Let her think what she likes it’s none of her business. Aisling didn’t look back as she headed up the stairs. Her spine tingled with each step aware of Marcus’s proximity to her as he followed behind.
She flicked the lights on as soon as she walked into the apartment and drew the curtains out of habit. Not once did she allow her gaze to flicker in the direction of
the bedroom, she’d once shared with him.
He shut the door and hovered in the entranceway seemingly not knowing where he should put himself. It must be strange to feel ill at ease in a place that had been like a second home. It was the first glimpse Aisling had had of uncertainty beneath his casual demeanour.
‘It’s weird being back here Ash. If I’d handled things differently I’d be living here now with you, as your husband.’
She wished he would stop calling her Ash. It was an intimate abbreviation, only her family and friends called her by it. His words stung. As if she needed reminding how, a year ago her life had veered sharply off the track it had been happily tootling down. ‘Well you’re not and I’m going out soon. So why don’t you sit down and say whatever it is you need to say.’ She wasn’t going anywhere, but he wasn’t going to clutter her Saturday night. She pulled a chair out from the table and sat down he did the same sitting opposite her.
She could smell him, she realised. It was the spicy musk scent she’d fallen in love with when the girl on the counter at Brown Thomas had sprayed it on to a piece of card, wafting it back and forth ceremoniously before handing it to her. She’d brought the expensive aftershave for his birthday. She wondered if he was still using the same bottle or if it had long since dried up.
Should she offer him a drink? Aisling shifted in her seat. If it were any other guest, she would, but she didn’t want him getting comfortable. She had no intention of making him feel at home.
‘You at least read my letters?’
She nodded.
‘Then there’s no point in me saying I’m sorry again, you already know I am.’
The silence stretched long. Aisling feigned interest in her fingernails and Marcus cleared his throat. She wasn’t going to make this easy for him.
‘I was scared Ash. It’s no excuse, but it’s the truth. I panicked, and I took off.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me how you were feeling? I would have understood.’ Her voice cracked, and she hated it for letting her down.
‘No you wouldn’t have—don’t pretend you would. I loved you, I still love you that’s why I’m here. So how could I tell you I shouldn’t have proposed? How was I supposed to say it was too soon to get married? I’d made a mistake because I wasn’t ready—didn’t know if I’d ever be ready,’ he shrugged. ‘I tried to convince myself it would all be okay. I was clear about how I felt about you, so we’d be grand, but you got so caught up in your plans. Each time I saw you the day was getting bigger, more elaborate. It felt like you’d forgotten what really mattered. Getting married was supposed to be about us making a commitment to each other. It terrified me, but it was a commitment I was prepared to go through with for you.’
‘Stop right there.’ How dare he? ‘Don’t you try to put the blame on me. I know what commitment is! What did you think I’d been spending all my time organising? A bloody wedding so we could make that commitment! I was doing it for us.’ Was she?
‘I don’t mean to sound like a condescending eejit.’
‘Well you fecking do.’ She was breathing heavily.
He laid both his hands down on the table palms facing up. ‘What I said in the letter I left was true.’
‘What? You asked me to marry you because you thought it was what I wanted?’
‘No, yes.’ He shook his head. ‘Kind of. I’m digging a hole for myself. I knew I shouldn’t have proposed, but it was too late I had. So I tried to get swept up in all the plans like you were, but somewhere along the line it stopped being about us. It was about the wedding. The castle, the menu, the photographer who was coming. It was all you everyone talked about. I couldn’t handle it.’
‘Okay, so let me get this straight. Because I wanted a lovely day, the kind of day memories are made of, like a lot of women might I add, you thought I’d lost sight of what getting married meant?’ Aisling would have liked to throw something at him but there was only the salt and pepper shaker within reach and she couldn’t face cleaning up the mess.
‘Everything snowballed Ash. I couldn’t think clearly and so I ran. I’m so, so sorry for leaving you to face the aftermath, but I can’t turn back time.’
‘No, you can’t. What’s done is done and I still don’t understand why you’ve come.’
‘I want you to think about giving me another chance.’
His eyes held hers and she dropped her gaze before she lost herself. He couldn’t just walk back into her life and expect to pick up where he’d left off.
‘I get it must be a shock for you, me showing up like this and you don’t have to say anything, not tonight. But know this, I love you and the biggest mistake of my life was leaving you. I’m not going to make that mistake twice. Can we try again, take things slower this time around?’
They sat in silence which Marcus broke. ‘Are you happy Ash?’
Was she? She felt like she’d been going through the motions of living since last September, nothing more.
‘Please promise me you’ll think about what I’ve said.’
Aisling knew that now was her cue to stand up and tell him that hell would freeze over before she’d give him another chance. She should say he was a ball bag and send him packing with those bollocks of his between his knees like her mammy and sister said she should. The words however, wouldn’t come out of her mouth.
‘Ash?’
‘Okay.’
‘You’ll think about it?’
She nodded, hating herself at that moment.
‘I’m staying with my mam, if you want to talk or you know meet up. I’m in Dublin for a week.’ His voice was hopeful as he got up from the table.
Aisling didn’t say anything as he left closing the door behind him. She sat at that table for a long time staring at the wall but not seeing anything other than Marcus’s hopeful expression as he asked if they could try again. Her mental pen began to scribble.
Dear Aisling,
My ex-fiancé broke my heart. I thought I was moving on but now he says he wants me back and I’m not sure I’ve moved on at all. There’s a part of me sorely tempted to give him a second chance, because if I’m honest, I’m lonely. I think he’s genuine and means what he says. Maybe we did move too fast first time around. I just don’t know if I could trust him not to leave me again. My head says send him packing but my heart is wavering because I can’t help but wonder if what he says about me having tunnel vision when it came to our wedding was true. What should I do? Follow my heart and see where it leads me, or my head?
Yours faithfully
Me
Chapter 23
Una had dozed off early. She’d had an early and agreeable dinner at a restaurant not far from the Guesthouse, Quinn’s. The food was simple fare, but simple fare cooked well. At her age she couldn’t be doing with spice and there seemed to be an abundance of it about these days. The Irish digestive system was not designed for the likes of chilli. It had crossed her mind to give her compliments to the chef, but she decided not to. Her clean plate was compliment enough.
She’d laid her knife and fork down as the band had begun to unpack and had been sure to settle her bill before they could so much as strike a chord. She was not in the mood for music. The maître d’ had said the most peculiar thing to her as she counted out the notes from her purse. He’d said he’d known her when she was a girl, and that she and her twin sister used to love playing down by the Royal Canal. Impossible of course given he was only somewhere in the vicinity of his late thirties, but peculiar all the same and the hairs on the back of her neck had stood up.
The fresh air from her day spent observing Aideen’s house had made her sleepy and she’d climbed into the double bed with its crisp white linen sheets and plump pillows in eager anticipation of a restful sleep.
She was almost grateful tonight for the now familiar rattle and clatter that stirred her from her sleep. It had dragged her from a dream where Leo was berating her, he was calling her a stubborn selfish fool of a woman. Each time she open
ed her mouth to ask him to stop no sound would come out. It was most upsetting. She roused herself to peer out the curtains to the darkened courtyard below in time to spy the shadowy outline of a small creature creeping back toward the wall.
The moon came out from behind the clouds and for a moment it was as though a light had been switched on in the courtyard. She could see the fox had something in his mouth, a sausage she was fairly certain. It paused for a beat and looked up at her window. Their eyes locked and then with a flick of his tale he seemed to vanish into the wall. Una let the curtain fall and sighed.
She lay back down and watched the bedside clock, its red digits teasing her as they counted the seconds, the minutes until finally the digits rolled over to three a.m. The dregs of the dream lingered like a painful hangover and she tried to focus her mind on something other than Leo’s angry face. There were happy memories, lots of them and she chose the happiest of them all.
Chapter 24
1948
‘I love you Una. I have done from the moment I first saw you. You were, are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.’
‘I feel the same way. I love you too Leo.’ Una gazed adoringly into his eyes before leaning forward and planting a kiss firmly on the nose of Mr Bear, her teddy. She picked the old brown bear up, his fluffy fur had rubbed away in places from all the years of holding him close to her like she was about to do now. She hugged him tight to her chest before releasing him and pressing her index finger to her lips. She was surprised to find they were cool and dry and not on fire at the memory of Leo’s lips on hers.
Leo Greene might not have said those words to her this afternoon, but he had kissed her as they meandered home alongside the banks of the canal. The weather had been overcast with a persistent light rain, the kind that eventually got its way and soaked you through to your skin. Neither of them was in a rush to get home though, and so had set their own pace despite the rain.
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