Cecelia Ahern 2-book Bundle

by Cecelia Ahern

  ‘You seem keen,’ I smile, watching their faces aglow with warmth and excitement at finally finding a property they felt at home in.

  ‘We are,’ she grins. ‘We have been so fussy up till now, as you well know. But now the situation has changed and we need to get out of that flat and find somewhere bigger as soon as we can, seeing as we’re expanding, or I’m expanding,’ she jokes nervously, and it’s only then that I notice her small bump beneath her shirt, her belly button hard and protruding against the fabric.

  ‘Oh, wow …’ Lump to throat, wobble of knees again, eyes fill, please let this moment be over quickly, please make them look away from me. They have tact and so they do. ‘That’s fantastic, congratulations,’ my voice says cheerily, and even I can hear how hollow it is, so devoid of sincerity, the empty words almost echo within themselves.

  ‘So that room upstairs would be perfect.’ Joe nods to the nursery.

  ‘Oh, of course, that’s just wonderful.’ The 1960s surbuban housewife is back as I gosh, gee-whizz and shucks my way through the rest of the conversation.

  ‘I can’t believe they don’t want any of the furniture,’ Linda says, looking around.

  ‘Well, they’re both moving to smaller property and their belongings just won’t fit there any more.’

  ‘But they’re not taking anything?’

  ‘No,’ I smile, looking around. ‘Nothing but the rose bush in the back garden.’

  And a suitcase of memories.

  Justin falls into the car with a giant sigh.

  ‘What happened to you?’

  ‘Nothing. Could you just drive directly to the airport now, please? I’m a little behind time.’ Justin places his elbow on the windowledge and covers his face with his hand, hating himself, hating the selfish miserable man he has become. He and Sarah weren’t right for one another but what right had he to use her like that, to bring her down with him into his pit of desperation and selfishness?

  ‘I’ve got something that will cheer you up,’ Thomas says, reaching for the glove compartment.

  ‘No, I’m really not in the—’ Justin stops, seeing Thomas retrieve a familiar envelope from the compartment. He hands it over to him.

  ‘Where did you get this?’

  ‘My boss called me, told me to give it to you before you got to the airport.’

  ‘Your boss.’ Justin narrows his eyes. ‘What’s his name?’

  Thomas is silent for a while. ‘John,’ he finally replies.

  ‘John Smith?’ Justin says, his voice thick with sarcasm.

  ‘The very man.’

  Knowing he’ll squeeze no information from Thomas, he turns his attention back to the envelope. He circles it slowly in his hand, trying to decide whether to open it or not. He could leave it unopened and end all of this now, get his life back in order, stop trying to use people, take advantage. Meet a nice woman, treat her well.

  ‘Well? Aren’t you going to open it?’ Thomas asks.

  Justin continues to circle it in his hand.

  ‘Maybe.’

  Dad opens the door to me, his iPod in his ears, the control pad in his hand. He looks my outfit up and down.

  ‘OOH, YOU LOOK VERY NICE TODAY, GRACIE,’ he shouts at the top of his voice, and a man walking his dog across the road turns to stare. ‘WERE YOU OUT SOMEWHERE SPECIAL?’

  I smile. Light relief at last. I put my finger on my lips and take the earphones out of his ears.

  ‘I was showing the house to some clients of mine.’

  ‘Did they like it?’

  ‘They’re going to come back in a few days to measure. So that’s a good sign. But being back over there, I realised there are so many things that I have to go through.’

  ‘Haven’t you been through enough? You don’t need to sob for weeks just to make yourself feel OK about it.’

  I smile. ‘I mean that I have to go through possessions. Things I’ve left behind. I don’t think they want a lot of the furniture. Would it be OK if I stored it in your garage?’

  ‘My woodwork studio?’

  ‘That you haven’t been in for ten years.’

  ‘I’ve been in there,’ he says defensively. ‘Oh, all right then, you can put your things in there. Will I ever get rid of you at all, at all?’ he says with a slight smile on his face.

  I sit at the kitchen table and Dad immediately busies himself, filling the kettle as he does for everyone who enters the kitchen.

  ‘So how did the Monday Club go last night? I bet Donal McCarthy couldn’t believe your story. What was his face like?’ I lean in, excited to hear.

  ‘He wasn’t there,’ Dad says, turning his back to me as he takes a cup and saucer out for himself and a mug for me.

  ‘What? Why not? And you with your big story to tell him! The cheek of him. Well, you’ll have next week, won’t you?’

  He turns around slowly. ‘He died at the weekend. His funeral’s tomorrow. Instead we spent the night talking about him and all his old stories that he told a hundred times.’

  ‘Oh, Dad, I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Ah, well. If he hadn’t have gone over the weekend, he would have dropped dead when he’d heard I met Michael Aspel. Maybe it was just as well,’ he smiles sadly. ‘Ah, he wasn’t such a bad man. We had a good laugh even if we did enjoy getting a rise out of one another.’

  I feel for Dad. It is such a trivial thing compared with the loss of a friend, but he had been so excited to share his stories with his great rival.

  We both sit in silence.

  ‘You’ll keep the rose bush, won’t you?’ Dad asks finally.

  I know immediately what he’s talking about. ‘Of course I will. I thought that it’d look good in your garden.’

  He looks out the window and studies his garden, probably deciding where he’ll plant it.

  ‘You have to be careful with moving, Gracie. Too much shock causes a serious, possibly a grave decline.’

  I smile sadly. ‘That’s a bit dramatic, but I’ll be fine, Dad. Thanks for caring.’

  He keeps his back turned. ‘I was talking about the roses.’

  My phone rings, vibrates along the table and almost hops off the edge.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Joyce, it’s Thomas. I just left your young man off at the airport.’

  ‘Oh, thank you so much. Did he get the envelope?’

  ‘Eh, yeah. About that: I gave it to him all right but I’ve just looked in the back seat of the car and it’s still there.’

  ‘What?’ I jump up from the kitchen chair. ‘Go back, go back! Turn the car around! You have to give it to him. He’s forgotten it!’

  ‘You see, the thing is, he wasn’t too sure on whether he wanted to open it or not.’

  ‘What? Why?’

  ‘I don’t know, love! I gave it to him when he got back into the car before we got to the airport, just like you asked. He seemed very down and so I thought it’d cheer him up a bit.’

  ‘Down? Why? What was wrong with him?’

  ‘Joyce, love, I don’t know. All I know is he got into the car a bit upset so I gave him the envelope and he sat there looking at it and I asked him if he was going to open it and he said maybe.’

  ‘Maybe,’ I repeat. Had I done something to upset him? Had Kate said something to him? ‘He was upset when he came out of the Gallery?’

  ‘No, not the Gallery. We stopped off at the blood donor clinic on D’Olier Street before the airport.’

  ‘He was donating blood?’

  ‘No, he said he had to meet somebody.’

  Oh my God, maybe he’d discovered it was me who’d received his blood and he wasn’t interested.

  ‘Thomas, do you know if he opened it?’

  ‘Did you seal it?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then there’s no way of my knowing. I didn’t see him open it. I’m sorry. Do you want me to drop it at your house on the way back from the airport?’

  ‘Please.’

  An hour later I meet Thomas at t
he door and he gives me the envelope. I can feel the tickets still inside and my heart falls. Why didn’t Justin open it and take it with him?

  ‘Here, Dad.’ I slide the envelope across the kitchen table. ‘A present for you.’

  ‘What’s in it?’

  ‘Front-row seats to the opera for next weekend,’ I say sadly, leaning my chin on my hand. ‘It was a gift for somebody else, but he clearly doesn’t want to go.’

  ‘The opera.’ Dad makes a funny face and I laugh. ‘It’s far from operas I was raised,’ though he opens the envelope anyway as I get up to make some more coffee.

  ‘Oh, I think I’ll pass on this opera thing, love, but thanks anyway.’

  I spin round. ‘Oh, Dad, why? You liked the ballet and you didn’t think that you would.’

  ‘Yes, but I went to that with you. I wouldn’t go to this on my own.’

  ‘You don’t have to. There are two tickets.’

  ‘No, there aren’t.’

  ‘There definitely are. Look again.’

  He turns the envelope upside down and shakes it. A loose piece of paper falls out and flutters to the table.

  My heart skips a beat.

  Dad props his glasses on the tip of his nose and peers down at the note. ‘“Accompany me”,’ he says slowly. ‘Ah, love, that’s awful nice of you—’

  ‘Show me that.’ I grab it from his hands, disbelievingly, and read it for myself. Then I read it again. And again and again.

  ‘Accompany me? Justin.’

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  ‘He wants to meet me,’ I tell Kate nervously, as I twirl a string from the end of my unravelling top around my finger.

  ‘You’re going to cut off your circulation, be careful,’ Kate responds, motherly.

  ‘Kate! Did you not hear me? I said he wants to meet me!’

  ‘And so he should. Did you not think that this would eventually happen? Really, Joyce, you’ve been taunting the man for weeks. And if he did save your life, as you’re insisting he did, wouldn’t he want to meet the person whose life he saved? Boost his male ego? Come on, it’s the equivalent to a white horse and a shiny suit of armour.’

  ‘No it’s not.’

  ‘It is in his male eyes. His male wandering eyes,’ she spits out aggressively.

  My eyes narrow as I study her closely. ‘Is everything OK? You’re beginning to sound like Frankie.’

  ‘Stop biting your lip, it’s starting to bleed. Yes, everything’s great. Just hunky-dory.’

  ‘OK, here I am,’ Frankie makes her announcement as she breezes through the door and joins us on the bleachers.

  We are seated on a split-level viewing balcony at Kate’s local swimming pool. Below us Eric and Jayda splash noisily in their swimming class. Beside us Sam is sitting in his stroller, looking around.

  ‘Does he ever do anything?’ Frankie watches him suspiciously.

  Kate ignores her.

  ‘Issue number one for discussion today is why do we have to constantly meet in these places with all these things crawling around?’ She looks at all the toddlers. ‘What happened to cool bars, new restaurants, shop openings? Remember we used to go out and have fun?’

  ‘I have plenty of fucking fun,’ Kate says a little too defensively and loudly. ‘I am just one great big ball of fucking fun,’ she repeats, and looks away.

  Frankie doesn’t hear the unusual tone in Kate’s voice, or does hear it and decides to push anyway. ‘Yes, at dinner parties for other couples who haven’t been out for a month either. For me, that’s not so fun.’

  ‘You’ll understand when you have kids.’

  ‘I don’t plan to have any. Is everything OK?’

  ‘Yes, she’s “hunky-dory”,’ I say to Frankie, using my fingers as inverted commas.

  ‘Oh, I see,’ Frankie says slowly and mouths ‘Christian’ at me.

  I shrug.

  ‘Is there anything you want to get off your chest?’ Frankie asks.

  ‘Actually, yes.’ Kate turns to her with fire in her eyes. ‘I’m tired of your little comments about my life. If you’re not happy here or in my company, then piss off somewhere else, but just know that it’ll be without me.’ She turns away, her cheeks flushed with anger.

  Frankie is silent for a moment as she observes her friend. ‘OK,’ she says perkily and turns to me. ‘My car is parked outside; we can go to the new bar down the road.’

  ‘We’re not going anywhere,’ I protest.

  ‘Ever since you left your husband and your life has fallen apart, you’ve been no fun,’ she says to me sulkily. ‘And as for you, Kate, ever since you got that new Swedish nanny and your husband’s been eyeing her up, you’ve been absolutely miserable. As for me, I’m tired of hopping from one night of meaningless sex with handsome strangers to another, and having to eat microwave dinners alone every evening. There, I’ve said it.’

  My mouth falls open. So does Kate’s. I can tell we are both trying our best to be angry with her but her comments are so spot on, it’s actually quite humorous. She nudges me with her elbow and chuckles mischievously in my ear. The corners of Kate’s lips begin to twitch too.

  ‘I should have got a manny,’ Kate finally says.

  ‘Nah, I still wouldn’t trust Christian,’ Frankie responds. ‘You’re being paranoid, Kate,’ she assures her seriously. ‘I’ve been around there, I’ve seen him. He adores you and she is not attractive at all.’

  ‘You think?’

  ‘Uh-huh,’ she nods, but when Kate looks away, mouths ‘gorgeous’ to me.

  ‘Did you mean all that you said?’ Kate says, brightening up.

  ‘No.’ Frankie throws her head back and laughs. ‘I love meaningless sex. I need to do something about the microwave dinners, though. My doctor says I need more iron. OK,’ she claps her hands, causing Sam to jump with fright, ‘what’s this session’s meeting been called for?’

  ‘Justin wants to meet Joyce,’ Kate explains, and snaps at me, ‘Stop biting your lip.’

  I stop.

  ‘Ooh, great,’ Frankie says excitedly. ‘So what’s the problem?’ She sees my look of terror.

  ‘He’s going to realise that I’m me.’

  ‘As opposed to you being …?’

  ‘Someone else.’ I bite my lip again.

  ‘This is really reminding me of the old days. You are thirty-three years old, Joyce, why are you acting like a teenager?’

  ‘Because she’s in love,’ Kate says, bored, turning to face the swimming pool and clapping her coughing daughter, Jayda, whose face is half under the water.

  ‘She can’t be in love.’ Frankie rolls her nose up in disgust.

  ‘Is that normal, do you think?’ Kate, beginning to get worried about Jayda, tries to get our attention.

  ‘Of course it’s not normal,’ Frankie responds. ‘She hardly knows the guy.’

  ‘Girls, eh, stop for a minute,’ Kate tries to butt in.

  ‘I know more about him than any other person will ever know,’ I defend myself. ‘Apart from himself.’

  ‘Eh, lifeguard.’ Kate gives up on us and calls gently to the woman sitting below us. ‘Is she OK, do you think?’

  ‘Are you in love?’ Frankie looks at me as though I’ve just said I want to have a sex change.

  I smile just as the lifeguard crashes into the water to save Jayda and a few kids scream.

  ‘You’ll have to take us over to Ireland with you,’ Doris says with excitement, placing a vase on the kitchen windowsill. The flat is almost finished and she’s arranging the finishing touches. ‘They could be a nutcase and you’d never know. We need to be nearby just in case something happens. They could be a murderer, a serial stalker who dates people and then kills them. I saw something like that on Oprah.’

  Al begins hammering nails into the wall and Justin joins in with the rhythm, gently and repeatedly bashing his head against the kitchen table in response.

  ‘I am not taking you both to the opera with me,’ Justin says.

  �
��You took me along on a date with you when you and Delilah Jackson went out.’ Al stops hammering and turns to him. ‘Why should this be any different?’

  ‘Al, I was twelve years old.’

  ‘Still,’ he shrugs, returning to his hammering.

  ‘What if she’s a celebrity?’ Doris says excitedly. ‘Oh my God, she could be! I think she is! Jennifer Aniston could be sitting in the front row of the opera and there could be a place free beside her. Oh my God, what if it is?’ She turns to Al with wide eyes. ‘Justin, you have to tell her I’m her biggest fan.’

  ‘Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on a minute, you’re starting to hyperventilate. How on earth have you come to that conclusion? We don’t even know if it’s a woman. You are obsessed with celebrities,’ Justin sighs.

  ‘Yeah, Doris,’ Al joins in. ‘It’s probably just a normal person.’

  Justin rolls his eyes. ‘Yeah,’ he imitates his tone, ‘because celebrities aren’t normal people, they’re really underworld beasts that grow horns and have three legs.’

  With that both Al and Doris pause from their hammering and hanging duties to stare at him.

  ‘We’re going to Dublin tomorrow,’ Doris says with an air of finality. ‘It’s your brother’s birthday and a weekend in Dublin, in a very nice hotel like the Shelbourne Hotel – I’ve, I mean Al has always wanted to stay there – would be a perfect birthday present for him, from you.’

  ‘I can’t afford the Shelbourne Hotel, Doris.’

  ‘Well, we’ll need somewhere close to a hospital in case he has a heart attack. In any case, we’re all going!’ She claps her hands excitedly.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  I’m on my way into the city to meet Kate and Frankie for help on what to wear to tonight’s opera, when my phone rings.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Joyce, it’s Steven.’

  My boss.

  ‘I just received another phone call.’

  ‘That’s really great but you don’t have to call me when that happens.’

  ‘It’s another complaint, Joyce.’

  ‘From who and about what?’

  ‘That couple you showed the new cottage to yesterday?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘They’ve pulled out.’