‘I think you’re wrong. Irish people – of which you are one, in case you forgot – aren’t meek and mild. We’re just not aggressive and belligerent. To us, meeting someone for a drink is more about the conversation you’re having than the speed at which the drink is served.’
‘Why can’t you have both – good service and good conversation?’
‘You can. The service here is fine. You ordered the drink two minutes ago and it’s on its way. How thirsty can you be?’
‘It’s Friday night, baby, so I’m very thirsty. Did Martin tell you what I do?’
‘Something with hedge funds?’
‘I was head-hunted to come and run one here for Cooks Brokers. These guys haven’t a fucking clue how to run a fund. They’re trading Mickey Mouse sums. If you want big returns, you’ve got to take risks, invest big and short sell.’
‘Isn’t it hard to find investors in the downturn?’
‘Honey, no one says no to Jake Doran. I’m a fucking legend in this business. My reputation precedes me. I’ve made millions for all my clients and myself. They used to call me the Terminator because I had nerves of fucking steel.’
‘I see. How does working here compare with New York? I remember when I first came back from London –’
‘There is no comparison,’ Jake cut across her. ‘People here have no idea what real pressure is. They think working until eight is late. I pulled all-nighters two, three times a week. I was on Tokyo, New York and London time. People here think they work hard – they have no fucking idea.’
‘That’s very unfair –’ Sally tried to get her point across, but was shot down again. The Terminator was on a roll.
‘It’s like the healthcare system here. Everyone pisses and moans about it, but no one does anything.’
‘More than fifteen per cent of Americans don’t have healthcare. That’s almost forty-six million people. I hardly think that’s a shining example of efficiency or equality.’
For once Jake didn’t have an answer. Clearly he was not as au fait with politics as he was with his own ego. Sally sat back and enjoyed the moment.
‘I need to take a leak. Order us another drink – it might just be here by the time I get back.’
Sally politely ordered another drink from the barman. Although Jake was clearly a tosser, he was drunk, which might explain some of his behaviour, and he was very good-looking. She decided to give him one final chance to redeem himself. Maybe hiding deep underneath the bluster was a nice man. Besides, she was all dressed up and had nowhere else to go.
Jake was striding back. He seemed more together. Maybe he’d sobered up a bit in the Gents. But as he got closer she saw white powder on the end of his left nostril.
‘For an older woman you’re hot,’ he said, at the top of his voice as he groped her leg. ‘I’d say you’re great in the sack.’
Sally pushed his hand away and climbed down from her stool. ‘Well, Terminator, that’s something you’ll just have to imagine. I’m leaving now before my eardrums burst and you bore me into an early grave. And you’ve got cocaine all over your face, which is both sad and pathetic.’
‘… and that concludes yet another disastrous blind date.’ Sally waved her glass in the air and knocked back her third double gin.
‘What a jerk. I can’t believe Martin thought he’d be right for you.’
‘Listen, Ava, every blind date I’ve been on has been crap. People either think I’m a freak who likes other freaks or they think I’m so desperate that I’d settle for anything. Honestly, there’s not one guy I’ve been set up with that I would entertain going out with. And don’t tell me I’m fussy.’
‘I wasn’t going to, I promise.’
‘Because,’ Sally continued, slurring slightly, ‘I’m not fussy. I’m just not prepared to settle for some arsehole who snorts his wages up his nose. I’d rather be on my own.’
‘Who’s snorting his wages up his nose?’ Paul asked, coming over with two more drinks.
‘Sally’s blind date.’
‘Mr New York himself,’ she said, taking a large sip of her gin.
‘What you need is a nice guy like me to look after you.’ Paul leant over the mahogany bar. ‘Good-looking, reliable, trustworthy, funny, bright –’
‘Modest,’ I added.
‘Honest.’ He scanned the bar to make sure no one was waiting to be served. When you were in the pub with Paul, you only ever had half his attention. ‘Excuse me, ladies, one of our regulars is calling me over. Back in a minute.’
‘Yeah, right,’ I muttered. The reason the Drift Inn did so well was because Paul made his customers feel like his personal friends. They came to drink in the bar because it was lovely – he had based the décor on a Manhattan-style lounge. It had mood lighting, low chill-out music playing in the background, the floor was covered with deep red carpet and it had individual booths along one wall. It had lots of smoking chairs and bookshelves, big comfy sofas and open fireplaces that kept the place cosy in winter. The bar stools were covered with calfskin and had high backs – but customers came to drink here because they liked hanging out with Paul.
Sally looked over at him – he was laughing at something the regular had said. ‘You’re lucky, Ava. Paul’s great.’
‘Everyone’s always telling me that. Whenever I come into the pub all the staff go on and on about what a genius he is at business and what a great boss he is. Of course he’s good at his job – he spends his life here. The pub always comes first,’ I said, the mojitos loosening my tongue.
‘But he’s mad about you.’
‘If he’s so mad about me, why is he never home? I’m not even competing with another woman! I’m competing with the pub. He never puts me or our relationship first any more. He’s always working. We never go out together on our own. He works most nights. He takes Sundays and Mondays off. We usually take the girls out on Sundays for dinner or a movie, which leaves Mondays when I’m working and he goes surfing, and by the time we get home we’re both too tired to bother. We’re in a rut, Sally, which at forty-two is a bit scary.’
‘At least you’ve got someone not to go out with.’ Sally swayed a little on her stool.
‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be giving out, especially not tonight after your crappy date.’
‘It’s just too much hard work. I don’t have the energy.’ She stood up and made a toast. ‘To a happy, peaceful life on the shelf.’
I finished my drink and watched Paul laughing and joking with his customers. He didn’t look over at me once.
12
I was worried about Ali. She still wasn’t back to herself. She seemed very down and she never talked to me. Autumn was always a really busy time for Happy Dayz, with birthday parties, Hallowe’en and Christmas events, so I was often late home and working at weekends. She was always in her room studying when I got in. I decided to make a conscious effort to be back in time to cook dinner and try to draw Ali out. I spent ages making her favourite dessert – profiteroles and hot chocolate sauce. I wanted to cheer her up any way I could. But when I produced it, she refused to eat it.
‘It’s your favourite. You always have seconds.’
‘I’m not hungry.’
‘You haven’t eaten much at all.’
‘I have. I ate chicken and vegetables and I’m full.’
‘You’re a bit peaky. I’m worried about you, pet.’
‘No self-respecting man likes a skinny girl,’ said Charlie. ‘You need something to hold on to, something to cuddle up to.’
‘Thank you, Charlie,’ I said, before he could go into further detail. ‘Come on, Ali, eat some dessert.’
‘What’s the big deal? I’m just not hungry.’
‘I’ll have her profiteroles if she doesn’t want them,’ Sarah piped up.
I ignored her. ‘Just have one, Ali. I’ll leave you alone then.’
‘Come on, Ali, your mum spent ages making them for you,’ Paul said.
‘OK, OK, I’ll have some.�
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‘There – isn’t that delicious?’ I encouraged her.
She nodded.
‘Have another.’ I spooned more onto her plate.
‘No, thanks, I’m really full now. I need to go and finish my homework – I’ve got a history essay to hand in tomorrow,’ she said, rushing up the stairs.
I looked at Paul. He shrugged. ‘She’s obviously still upset about your man.’
‘She seems to be getting worse not better,’ I fretted.
‘Don’t freak out, Mum,’ Sarah reassured me. ‘David and Tracy are all over each other in school, totally in Ali’s face. Even I’d find it stressful. She might as well study twenty hours a day. At least it’ll keep her mind off it.’
‘I suppose you’re right. It’s just awful to see her so down.’
‘In case anyone’s interested, my relationship is going brilliantly,’ Sarah announced.
‘I’m delighted to hear it. Try talking to Ali, will you?’ I asked. ‘If anyone can cheer her up, it’s you.’
‘I have, Mum. I’ve tried a million times, but she doesn’t want to talk about it or anything else. She’s not interested. All she wants to do is study.’
‘She’ll have no problem getting the points to study medicine at this rate. The first doctor in the Mullen family! That’ll be a proud day,’ Paul said, as he got up to go to work.
‘How come Dad always goes on about how proud he is of Ali and never says it about me?’ Sarah complained.
‘Don’t be silly. He’s proud of you both.’ I began to clear the table.
‘But he never says it to me. All he ever does is give out. Ali’s always been his favourite. The perfect Ali. Saint Ali.’
‘Don’t be so ridiculous. Your father adores you. But if you want to make him really happy, concentrate on your studies this year and get good results in your exams. You know how important education is to him.’
‘Why?’
‘Because he was the first person in his family to go to college. It was a huge deal and he wants his children to have the same opportunities.’
‘But what if I don’t want to go to college? Will I be excommunicated?’
‘Probably,’ I said, smiling at her. ‘So you’d better go up and do your homework.’
‘But I’m exhausted from school – I need some time to unwind.’
‘OK, Drama Queen. If you do an hour’s work you can watch Desperate Housewives with me later.’
‘Deal,’ she said, and dragged her bag up the stairs.
The next day, I took Charlie to his apartment so we could see how the building work was coming along. He had calmed down a bit since his arrest – I think he felt bad about Paul having to get involved in bailing him out. He didn’t mind me helping him out of the situations he got himself into, but he seemed a bit sheepish about his son-in-law having to save him.
Ali was very much on my mind. She didn’t seem to be getting over the break-up with David at all.
‘You’re worried about Ali, aren’t you?’ Charlie said, as we drove over to his new home.
‘Yes, I am. She seems so stressed all the time. And she’s lost her appetite. All she does these days is study.’
‘And cycle. She’s never off that bike – she’ll win the bloody Tour de France if she keeps it up.’
‘Is she cycling that much? I hadn’t noticed.’
‘You’ve been busy working. Every Saturday afternoon she goes off on her bike for hours.’
‘Really? Well, I suppose it’s getting her away from her desk and out into the fresh air. Has she said anything to you about it?’ I asked.
He shook his head. ‘No, pet, she hasn’t. Maybe she has a boyfriend she cycles over to see.’
‘I wish she did have a boyfriend, but I know she doesn’t. I got Sarah to check it out for me – my very own Columbo. I just wish she wasn’t so distant. Where’s the happy, chatty, sweet Ali of old?’
‘Heartbreak doesn’t heal overnight,’ Charlie said. ‘It took me years to get over your mother dying. I still miss her.’
‘Me too.’ I squeezed his hand.
‘Ali will be fine. She just needs time.’
‘I’d like to smack that stupid little shit for breaking her heart,’ I fumed.
‘I could have a word with him, if you like. Or we could get Paul to threaten him with his gun.’
‘No, thanks, Charlie. You’ve been involved in enough fights already – and may I remind you that no one is supposed to know about Paul’s gun. It’s totally illegal.’
Charlie changed the subject. ‘Did I tell you Magda’s set me up on a blind date with her friend Agata?’
‘No.’
‘She’s forty-one!’ he said, beaming.
‘That’s a year younger than me!’
‘I know. I’ve a good feeling about this one. Magda said she’s a cracker.’
‘Charlie, aren’t you a bit old for all this?’
‘No, I’m not. I’m lonely, Ava. I miss female company. Catherine could barely get out of bed for the last few years of her life so I was stuck in that bloody house day and night cleaning, cooking, washing and nursing her. When she died I felt as if I’d been given another chance at life. I want someone to have fun with. I want a companion. I want to live life to the full while I still can. Is that so strange?’
I reached over and kissed him. ‘No, Charlie, it isn’t. I’m sorry.’ Maybe a girlfriend would be a good thing. It might calm him down. ‘Where is Agata from?’
‘Poland.’
‘Does she speak English?’
‘I don’t know, I never asked. But sure we can speak the language of love.’
‘OK, but just take it slowly this time. Don’t sleep with her on the first date. Get to know her first. Let’s not have another Lily.’
‘I’m sixty-eight. I don’t care what her favourite film is, what music she likes or what her hobbies are. I haven’t time to be wasting.’
We pulled up outside the apartment block and headed in the main door. Except that it wasn’t a door, just a hole in a wall. The building was a long way from completion. We found the man in charge.
‘I thought the apartments were supposed to be ready soon?’ I asked.
‘Ah, well, now, missus, we’ve had a few setbacks with the bad weather and all.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘It means we’re running a bit behind schedule.’
‘How far behind?’
‘I’d say about three months, maybe four,’ he said, and walked back into the building site.
I tried not to look disappointed. It was nice having Charlie around, and I enjoyed his company, but I wasn’t sure how many more girlfriends I could take. We had converted the playroom into the spare bedroom and put a couch and a TV in there for him too. The downstairs toilet had a shower and that was now his bathroom. But it was a bit crowded and I was worried about Ali and wanted to keep an eye on her without Charlie distracting me by getting arrested. Still, it was only a few months.
‘Well, it looks like I’ll be staying a while longer,’ Charlie said. ‘Can you put up with me? I promise to behave and not get arrested any more.’
I smiled at him. ‘We’ll manage. Come on, I’ll buy you a coffee.’
Later that day I called into the pub to tell Paul that my father would be staying a while longer.
‘How much longer?’
‘A few months.’
‘That’s OK.’
‘Really?’ I asked, surprised he was being so calm about it.
‘Yeah, Charlie’s good for a laugh. I’ve no problem with it.’
‘Great, thanks. Actually, there’s something else I wanted to talk to you about. I’m worried about Ali.’
‘Why?’
‘She’s studying too hard and not eating properly, and apparently while we’re at work on the weekends she’s cycling for hours.’
‘Well, I can understand that. Exercise helps clear your head. Surfing always makes me feel better if I’m worried about som
ething. It’s a great switch-off. It’s a good thing she’s cycling. You’re always worrying about Ali. She’ll be fine. It’s a tough year and she wants to do well in her exams. She’ll never have to work this hard again. It’s Sarah I’d be worried about. We need to keep an eye on that relationship. I don’t want any teenage pregnancies in my house.’
‘Sarah’s well able to look after herself, and Bobby seems like a nice boy. A bit of an airhead but decent. Besides, he’s terrified of you.’
‘Good, because I want him to keep his hands to himself. Sixteen-year-old boys have one-track minds.’
‘What is it with you men? Charlie’s obsessed with having sex and you’d think he’d be past it.’
‘What can I say? It’s the way we’re made.’
I cringed inwardly. Paul and I hadn’t had sex in weeks. He had made advances a few nights ago, but I’d been tired and not in the mood. I’d have to make more of an effort. ‘Will you be home for dinner?’
‘Yes – see you about six.’
‘Great. Charlie’s going out on a date so we’ll have the place to ourselves.’
‘Who’s his date?’
‘A forty-one-year-old Pole called Agata.’
‘That’s younger than you.’
‘Only just. Besides, I’m a young forty-two.’
‘You look good to me.’
‘Glad to hear it. I don’t want you running off with Agata’s younger sister.’
‘Is there one?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘She could be tasty. Eastern European women are easy on the eye.’
One of the bar-girls came over to ask Paul a question. She was wearing a fitted black shirt, a short black skirt and high heels. I looked down at my jeans, flat pumps and pink shirt and decided that my wardrobe was in desperate need of an overhaul. Maybe if I felt sexier I’d be more up for having sex.
Paul turned back to me. ‘Where were we? Oh, yeah, tasty Eastern European women.’ He grinned.
Pieces of My Heart Page 9