by Angel Devlin
“Oh.” I could hear the disappointment in my voice myself at not being able to see him.
“Do you not want to go?” He looked at me cautiously.
“I’m invited? To meet your parents?”
“You try to get away with it. My ma’s threatened to come to the hotel t’meet you. She’s desperate to meet the girl I apparently can’t shut up talking about. The one she has to thank for her finally being able to get rid of me out of the family home.”
“Really?”
“Really? And then I wondered if you’d like to ditch the Fleet for a night and come and see my place? The one you forced me into getting.”
“I’d love to. Cillian?”
“Yeah?”
“Can we go back to my room now?”
“Souvenirs and then a taxi. Let’s go.” He grabbed my hand, and we headed downstairs.
Meet the parents
Anna
I had missed calls from my mum and Jenny; and messages from both of them, Lesley, and a few other people who wanted to know how I felt on the day of my non-wedding. My mother’s last text was a very terse ‘Are you alive or has that Cillian murdered you like I said he would?’ Maybe she was hoping if he had he’d be courteous enough to reply to her.
Cillian had gone home in the early hours of the morning as he said he wanted to give me some space, which I took to mean he’d remembered I was coming to his after his mothers and he needed to clean.
I’d slept and then woken up this morning to all these messages. My simple text to them all yesterday of, I’m fine and having a lovely time, obviously not good enough.
I sent a text back to my mum.
Sorry for the delay in reply, she took a long time to die.
The phone ran immediately after.
“Hey, Mum.”
“Don’t you ‘hey, mum’ me, lady, after that sarcastic text. Me and your dad were worried sick. We know what yesterday was supposed to have been and there you are in Dublin on your own. I’ve looked at the place on Google, there are a lot of bridges and water.”
“Mother, the fact I’ve not married Chris is a cause for celebration, not suicide. I had a lovely day. I went to the Leprechaun Museum and the Guinness Storehouse.”
“I don’t think this is normal behaviour, Anna.”
“What do you want me to do? Pretend wail down the phone? Say I can’t live my life without him? He did me a favour, Mum. If he hadn’t drunk dialled me I’d be married to him now - to a cheating scumbag. I’ve done all the being upset I’m going to do. Life’s short and I’m going to make the most of it. I wasted six years on him, Mum. Six years! I’m not wasting another second.”
“You’ve slept with him, haven’t you? The Irish one.”
“I’m not going to answer that.”
“That’s why you’re not upset. This one’s obviously taking your mind off it.”
“He really is. He’s very good company, and I’m meeting his parents today.”
“You’re doing what? That’s a bit sudden, isn’t it? Don’t you be eloping. We need to meet this fella first.”
I groaned. “Mum, I’m not eloping. I’m having a bit of fun. A holiday romance. Leave me alone.”
“Well, keep in touch when you’re not in the bedroom.”
“Mother!”
“What’s she doing in the bedroom?” My dad’s concerned voice sounded from behind.
“Um, she’s had a bit of an upset stomach.” My mum lied. “She’s fine now though.”
My dad took the phone.
“Hello, love. Flights can do that to you. You got some Immodium?”
“I’m fine now, Dad, thanks. Hey, I’m going to a whiskey museum tomorrow. I’ll bring you something back.”
“All I need back is my daughter. Nothing else.”
After speaking to them, I texted Lesley to tell her I was enjoying myself, and ignored the messages from the other few who were just ghouls, wanting to feed off my envisaged destroyed soul. I dialled Jenny.
“Hey there.”
“Stranger! How did yesterday go?”
“Didn’t even realise it had got to my wedding hour. I was too busy in the Guinness Storehouse.” I caught her up on events.
“You slept with him? Was it good?”
“Well, I’ve repeated it several times since so you work it out.”
“So where’s he taking you today?”
“His parents house.”
There was a silence. “His parents? What’s going on, Anna? This is only a bit of fun, right?”
“I honestly don’t know what it is. I’m just going with the flow.”
There was a sigh. “Anna, its a rebound thing. You were jilted and this guy has given you an ear, and then an escape route away from the wedding. But you barely know him…”
“I was with Chris for six years and it looks like I barely knew him either.” I said tersely.
Another silence weighed heavy.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be biting your head off. You’re only concerned and I would be if you’d been the one jilted and gone off on a jolly. But seriously, I’m having a great time and I’m fine. I’m accompanying him to Sunday lunch with his parents because that’s where he always goes on a Sunday that’s all. It’s nothing special. He’s just taking a mate.”
“Okay. I’m sorry too. I’m just worrying.”
“So did it go ahead then? He didn’t get cold feet?”
“It went ahead. One of Kian’s mates and his wife went. They said it was just another wedding - boring.”
“Well, good, at least that’s closure on that part of my life.”
“You liar, you hoped one of them did a runner, didn’t you?”
I giggled. “Is that mean?”
“No, I hoped for the same. They deserve each other, Anna, and you deserve a shit ton of happiness, so go enjoy yourself, and your lunch, and I’ll look forward to seeing you on Wednesday. If you can still walk, you’ve not shagged him enough.”
I laughed and ended the call. Then I showered, went down to breakfast, and then returned to my room where I dressed in a pair of plain black trousers, a red tee and put a cardi over the handle of my holdall in case it got cold.
“See you tomorrow, hotel room.” I said, closing the door behind me and I went down to wait in the lobby for Cillian.
Cillian’s parents lived in a four-bedroomed end terrace in Phibsborough. He said they’d considered downsizing once he’d left but with the grandchildren staying so often they’d decided to stay put.
By the time we arrived, I’d got myself worked up into a right state. Sweat poured down my back, and my heart felt like it was about to thud out of my chest.
Cillian knocked and after a moment we heard footsteps. A female voice shouted “They’re here,” and then a woman with light brown hair, just like her son’s, opened the door. His mum wore jeans and a stripy lightweight jumper. Her hair was short, and she wore make-up.
“Well, come in. Welcome to our house, Anna. It’s lovely t’meet ya.”
As I stepped in she smiled at me.
“Shall I take off my shoes?” I asked as I watched Cillian walk straight through.
“You’re fine with those flats. These laminate floors are grand. Nice of you to ask though, not like that one. Never had any respect for the house. Used to jump on all the furniture like it was one of those kids activity centres.”
Cillian popped his head around the door. “Are you telling Anna stories of my childhood already? She’s not through the doorway yet.”
His mum rolled her eyes. “I’m Aisling, come follow me through to the living room seeing as my son’s already abandoned you.”
She led me into a neutrally furnished room with a massive brown leather corner sofa. Cillian was sitting next to his father, whose eyes were on the television. The guy looked up and jumped to his feet.
“Good to meet you, Anna. But what are you doing hanging around with this eejit?”
I laughed. Cillian’s dad ha
d a kind face which put me straight at ease.
“This television addict is Darragh.” Said Aisling. “I’ll just do all the prep for lunch while he sits with his feet up.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?” I asked.
“Oh no. I was only joking wit’cha. Now can I get you a drink? Tea, coffee?”
“She’ll be on the hard stuff if she’s spending time with Cillian.” Darragh drawled.
“Da, you’ll be putting her off me.”
“A cup of tea would be lovely please. Medium strength, milk, no sugar.”
“Coming right up.”
Dinner passed pleasantly. There was no mention of my non-wedding and I guessed that Cillian hadn’t told them about it. They spoke fondly of their grandchildren and asked me lots of questions about my own family and my life back in Sheffield. I could see the question on the tip of his mother’s tongue. It was in her expression, in the opening of her mouth where words didn’t come out. Instead she’d take a drink. It happened a couple of times. The unspoken question. What’s the future for you and my son?
Maybe she worried I’d take him away, back to Sheffield.
The answer was I had no idea. I wasn’t thinking beyond this week. This was all I could manage right now.
“So, you’re back away to Sheffield on Wednesday?”
She’d found a way to indirectly question me after all.
“I am. But I’ve loved every bit of my visit here and I’m sure I’ll be back soon.” I smiled at Cillian and he returned it. It wasn’t a definite commitment, but it was all I was capable of at this moment in time. My answer was enough to satisfy Aisling.
“Another cup of tea, Anna?”
We bid farewell a couple of hours after lunch and set off for Cillian’s apartment. It was a one-bedroomed apartment on the second floor. As we walked into his living room I was surprised by the amount of light that flooded in. There were patio doors that led out onto a tiny balcony, which looked over the residential area. Not the best view, but a nice touch to the apartment. There was a further window on the same wall and a small dining table was in front of that one. He’d placed a small black sofa against the back wall.
“This is lovely, Cillian.”
“You think so? Let me show you the rest of the space and you can bring your bag through to the bedroom.”
He took me next to a small, basic kitchen with beech coloured units. All the rooms came off a narrow hallway, and laminate flooring in a lighter wood colour ran throughout. Next he showed me a small, white furnished bathroom, and then finally through to his bedroom. Again there were neutral tones. His bedding was slate grey, with curtains to match. The bedroom was a decent size - large enough for a wardrobe, and a chest of drawers with a television on top.
He took my holdall from my hand and placed it at the left-hand side of the bed.
“That’s your side.” He winked.
“I think I need to test whether this bed will be acceptable for the evening or not.” I smiled.
Time passed quickly after that.
The following day he took me to the Jameson Distillery where I learned all about the process of whiskey making. After a tasting at the end, we left the tour and went to the bar with our drinks vouchers. While Cillian enjoyed a whiskey with ice, I had mine with ginger ale and lime.
“I’d love a chandelier like that.” I said, pointing to one of the fittings over the bar area made with bottles of Jamesons.
“Well, I can’t manage that, but I could buy you a keyring from the gift shop?”
Tuesday we went to Kilmainham Gaol. Then it was Tuesday night and as we got back to my hotel, I knew the conversation I’d been avoiding was imminent.
“Shall I stay tonight?” Cillian asked. He stood at my hotel room window looking out over the bustle of Temple Bar.
“Do you want to stay tonight?”
“Absolutely. My last night to sleep with you in my arms.”
“Then stay. I want you to stay.”
“What’s next, Anna?”
I sat on the edge of my bed. “I honestly don’t know, Cillian. My life is in Sheffield, always has been. I can come back here to visit again, but I guess we can only see what happens. You could come up to Sheffield sometime?”
Cillian’s shoulders slumped. “Yeah, I could visit, but I love it here, Anna. I don’t want to move. All my family is here. We’re very close.” He rubbed the scruff on his chin. “Also my photography course starts in September.” He looked at me. “You could do that you know? You could come here and study like me. We have bars here you can work in.”
I walked over to him and placed my arms around his neck. “Let’s make the most of tonight and not worry about tomorrow, hey?”
“Okay, Anna.” He said, but I knew it was far from okay.
When we got up the next morning, Cillian was due at work. He showered and dressed and then sat on the end of my bed.
“I will miss you.”
“I’m going to miss you too.”
“Promise to text me as soon as you’re home?”
“I’ll text you each leg of my journey so you know where I am.”
He kissed me. “Bye, boomerang.”
I tilted my head. “Now what are you talking about?”
“I’m sending you home, hoping you come straight back.” He said.
Is this love?
Cillian
The week had passed so quickly and then she was gone, taking her strange accent with her.
I missed her already, and she’d only been gone a couple of days.
Returning home to my empty apartment I felt flat. I turned down my friends who asked me to come out for drinks and to pull. I was only interested in one woman. So instead I played Whitesnake and sang along to the lyrics, especially the ones that said she had a hold on me.
But now she was back home.
Maybe I really was rebound guy - like my ma had warned me I could be. ‘I hope not, son, but ya have to be wary’.
There was no excitement when I woke in a morning. I went through the motions as I sang Molly Malone on my tours, hoping I’d see her walk through the crowds.
She answered my messages through Facebook with answers like I’m out tonight with Jenny and I’ll be back late.
Excuses.
Maybe the sooner I accepted I was a rebound holiday fling and quit messaging the better.
But for me it had been love.
Instant love.
And she’d probably never know.
Anna
I didn’t know what to say to Cillian on Facebook. I was home and miserable, walking about my rented home and wishing I was back with him. But that was stupid, wasn’t it? I’d known him only through social media and one week’s worth of company. You can’t change your life on a whim can you?
I took extra shifts at the bar and threw myself into work, but I was miserable.
Sitting at home with a glass of wine, I realised why.
I felt like I’d left my heart in Dublin and I was back here without it.
Surely it wasn’t possible?
It couldn’t be, could it, after such a short amount of time?
Was this love I was feeling?
Boomerang
Anna
“Okay. I told myself to mind my own business, but I can’t.” Rachel threw her cloth onto the bar. “Anna, you’ve been miserable since you got back. What are you messing about at?”
I let out a large sigh. “I feel like I want to just up sticks and move to Ireland. Be with Cillian. But that’s dumb, isn’t it? I’ve spent one week with him.”
“Well, for what it’s worth I’m gonna give you my advice.”
I looked at her and listened.
“Me and Evan pratted about for years. Wasted years because we didn’t act on how we felt. When we got together, you know what happened. He proposed the day after. Now we’re married. It could all go wrong but right now it’s so very, very right, and I’m pleased I took the leap to marry the former
manslut because now he’s all mine.”
“You and Evan are fabulous together.”
“We are. Now, you spent six years with that creep, Chris. Despite all those years you still didn’t know what he was really like, so I don’t understand why you’re staying in Sheffield miserable when you have a chance to be happy out there in Dublin. If it goes wrong, come back. Why are you looking at ‘What Ifs’? What do you want, Anna? Go get it, whatever it is.”
“Are you trying to lose me one of my best bar staff?” Dan said, walking around from the back. He met my gaze. “Actually I agree with Rachel, and for that reason, you’re fired.”
“What?” I gasped.
“You’re fired. But I’ll write you a fabulous reference as long as your new place of employment is in Dublin.”
I looked from one to the other of them and bit my lip.
“You’re right. Why am I wasting my precious life worrying about things going wrong when they could go very, very right?”
I whipped off my bar apron.
“I have a new life to organise.”
Anna: I’ve got to go away with work on a course about beer. Apparently there’s not much internet. Speak soon.
Cillian: When you get back we need to talk.
It’s amazing how quickly you can pack up your life. I stored some things at my mum’s and others I put into paid storage. My parents and Jenny thought I was insane but wished me luck. My mum told me she needed to meet Cillian as soon as possible if he was the one. Then I packed a couple of cases and booked a flight back out to Dublin. I booked a hotel room for the night again in case I needed it and I decided if it all went wrong I’d tour round the rest of Ireland for a couple of weeks and then see if there was a photography course I could start back home. Despite ‘firing’ me, Dan had said I always had a job at the Nag’s Head if I needed it.
I arrived at the hotel at 1pm. I’d called the tour company and knew Cillian would end his tour at Molly’s statue around 5pm.
So, I waited. Watching the clock and wondering if I was making a stupid mistake.
Then it was time to go.
I hid in the entrance of Superdry, and then I heard the beginning of ‘Molly Malone’ drifting down towards me. I strolled toward the crowd, hiding myself behind other shoppers until I got nearer and stood at the edge. Then I started singing at the top of my voice. It might have been a really romantic moment for some, but my strangled cat impression caused a couple of sniggers from the crowd. But it didn’t matter, because Cillian stopped singing, ran towards me and kissed me like I was the air he needed to breathe.