At the lift, he ran into Patrick. ‘Hi Conor, I’m just going out to get some things for Cynthia in the store. We were gonna get something to eat later in the bar if you’d like to join us.’
‘Thanks Patrick’ Conor replied with a grin. ‘You’re very good but I’m going out.’
‘Someone sure has cheered up your evening…you got a date?’
‘Ah nothing like that. I’ll leave all that romancing to yourself Patrick. No, I’m just having dinner with a friend.’
‘Well judging by the happy look on your face, this friend sure is better looking than me. Have a great night buddy. You deserve it after all you’ve done for us this last week,’ he said, giving Conor a playful thump on the back.
Anastasia sat outside the hotel in the early evening sun waiting for Conor to emerge. Creeping up behind her, he put his hands over her eyes.
‘Right so, Ms. Wonderchef, are we off?’ he asked cheerfully.
‘Hey Conor, how about we take a taxi to my house, then you can have a drink and not worry about driving?’
Good idea, he thought, as he spotted a taxi dropping off a passenger near the hotel. Grabbing Anastasia by the hand, they ran across the car park to hail it.
Anastasia’s place, a two-bedroom apartment in a converted warehouse complex, seemed eerily quiet as they let themselves in through the security gates.
‘Where is everyone?’
‘Most of the people who live here have two jobs. It’s a bit more expensive than other places, but I like it. It’s quiet and in other places where is lots of Polish or Ukrainian, there is many boys in big groups living together. They can be a bit noisy, lots of vodka you know?’
‘Don’t I know well,’ Conor nodded. ‘So you live here with Svetlana ?’
‘Yes, we are very good together here. She work often different shift to me, so many days I don’t even see her. But now she gone back in home to her father’s birthday. She is very happy to go back to her family. She gets lonely.’
Conor took the glass of wine proffered. ‘And what about you little Anastasia? Don’t you get lonely for home?’
Anastasia thought for a while. ‘Yes, of course, sometimes I get sad, especially if it’s birthdays or something, when I know all my family will be together. But I like it here also.’
‘What about the job offer? You were trying to make up your mind about it last week,’ he said, trying to sound casual, as he gazed out the living room window.
‘I still am not sure. It depends on some things.’
Conor wandered away from the window to look at the books crammed into a small wall-mounted bookcase, and they fell into an easy silence. Anastasia observed him as she peeled and chopped, remarking to herself how much younger he looked in his off-duty gear: dark jeans and a pale blue cotton shirt open at the neck, his hair swept back and still a bit damp from his shower earlier on. As he removed a copy of The Oxford English Dictionary and Thesaurus the entire wall-mounted bookcase unit collapsed and dozens of books crashed to the floor.
‘Oh feck it Anastasia! I’m so sorry. I’m having a really bad day,’ Conor said, looking aghast.
‘Don’t worry,’ she giggled, ‘always this happens. Svetlana and I have many books and this bookshelf is not made properly. We buy it when we come in Ireland and the instructions was in English so I think we make it wrong. When we finish, we have many more pieces of wood and nails and things not used.’
Conor chuckled. ‘Well, in my experience these flat pack people only give you barely the right amount. I’d say there could be some technical problem there right enough. I don’t suppose you kept the extra wood and things?’
Anastasia opened the drawer and extracted a small plastic bag containing screws and a screwdriver.
‘Here is it I think. Svetlana, she keep everything. The other pieces of wood are behind the TV.’
Conor laid out all the bits and pieces on the sofa, and stood staring at them for a few minutes as he tried to figure out what fitted where. Then slowly he began reassembling the bookcase properly.
‘You don’t have to do that!’ Anastasia protested. ‘It’s supposed to be your night off.’
‘No problem Anastasia. Listen, I couldn’t have had it on my conscience that you were at risk of being killed by an avalanche of hard looking Russian books . I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night, worrying about it.’
As they chatted over dinner, it struck Conor yet again just how easy it was to be in Anastasia’s company. She was interesting, funny and lovely – particularly so at that very moment as she sat at the table, sipping wine, her pretty little face and urchin cut hair bathed in candlelight.
‘You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but how was the meeting with your old friend?’ she asked shyly.
Conor sat back and let out a big, heavy sigh. ‘No, not at all. I don’t mind talking about it. Well…for a start...eh…she’s different. I mean she’s not as I remember her anyway. But you saw for yourself what she’s like, didn’t you? She wants to come back to Ireland. Said it was my fault that she left with Gerry. I should have stopped her apparently. If I’d told her how I felt about her back then, she would have stayed. She seemed to think that she could just show up and I’d be waiting for her.’
‘And is she right? Not…are you waiting for her…I mean…do you feel the same about her as you did all those years ago?’
Conor shook his head slowly. ‘No. I just sat there, I listened and I felt…well kind of nothing…kind of numb. I don’t think she really has cancer. She might have had it last year but it’s cleared up now thank God. I’ll tell you how I know that another time. On the other hand, the whole cancer thing might have been a bit of ploy on her part. Who knows? Her son I can’t tell you anything about. I didn’t get to meet him. But I will meet him, and I’d like to get to know him if they stay here in Ireland. But as for me and her? No. To be honest I thought I’d feel sad, or regretful at least for what might have been, but I feel nothing for her. So, tell me Anastasia, since we’re all heart to heart, did you sort out that fella of yours?’
‘Conor, I don’t have boyfriend. Not anyone since I come in Ireland.’
‘But…but I thought you said…’ ‘Conor, I want to say something to you.’
He sat back in the chair. ‘Sounds serious,’ he said with a grin.
‘Many things about Ireland is different from Ukraine. There we are more straight and just say things with no…em…no joking. I think it’s something to do with communists,’ she added with a weak smile. ‘So here for me is difficult sometimes. I don’t know when there is joking or serious you know? OK, I have now got to be honest. I know you think I am young and you are so much older than me but… I really like you Conor. Not just for friends, I like you like…like a woman likes a man. Last week I feel so stupid after calling you and you talk about this woman and then I sending you that text, but Svetlana say to me to just tell you how I feel. I think she is getting sick from me talking about you.’
Anastasia looked at him closely, trying to decide if she should continue. His face was hard to read. It was worth the risk, she thought.
‘It’s difficult, because even though we are friends, I don’t know that much about you. When I tell you about job offer back in Ukraine I suppose…I hope you say, don’t go. But I can’t go back and not say what I feel. It’s too hard. So now I am saying it. I like you…OK…I more than like you. I think maybe I love you and I want to…well, I want to know if you feel something for me.’
Conor was too shocked to speak.
‘…I’m sorry,’ she said, her voice now barely audible. ‘I should not do this to you but, if there is nothing, you feel nothing, then just say it and I go back in Ukraine. There is nothing else keeping me in Ireland. I have only stayed for this long because I hope...’
Conor looked at this gorgeous little creature whose eyes were now filling with tears. He had never allowed any previous relationship with a woman to develop to this point. He often wondered why that was.
He’d gone out with some really great women over the years, but the spectre of Sinead had hung heavy over them all. He remained silent for only about a minute, but to Anastasia it felt like an hour.
‘OK Conor,’ she said. ‘You don’t have to say it. I’m sorry I should not have put you in this position. It’s not fair. You never give me reason to think, to hope that you liked me in that way so …’
Conor reached across and clasped her two hands. ‘Anastasia, this is very new territory for me. I had no idea you felt anything for me, other than friendship and, even then, I was a bit mystified. I mean, any man would be delighted to have you paying him attention, let alone someone of my age. I…well…you know more about me than most people. It’s hard for me to do this kind of thing. You’re way ahead of me with this, and I won’t lie to you. My initial reaction is to say no, but that’s because, well that’s what I do, but…if I’m honest, I do think about you. A lot. I just never let myself think of you as anything other than a friend. An incredibly gorgeous friend I should add,’ he smiled.
He paused again, for what seemed like another hour. Struggling to find what he hoped was the right formula of words, he said: ‘God, Anastasia, are you sure? I mean I don’t have much to offer you. I…what am I saying here? I really like you, I think you’re so…Well you’re not like anyone I’ve ever met. You’re so honest and brave. I don’t think I would ever have got the guts to say to you what you just said to me…I just don’t know what you see in me…honest to God I don’t. If I was your father, and I’m almost old enough to be, and you brought the likes of me home I’d …well I wouldn’t be exactly thrilled, put it that way.’
Anastasia looked confused. ‘So, is that a yes or a no? If you worried about my family, my parents are nice. Also, my father is twenty years older than my mother and they are very happy. So, I don’t think they would mind,’ she said with a sigh and looking at him with hope in her eyes.
She stood up, walked towards the window, gazed out over the Irish countryside which was now enveloped in the late evening twilight. Conor remained at the table, gradually understanding that this might be his chance, his one and only hope of long-term happiness. He allowed himself to visualise life with Anastasia by his side. Living together, going on holidays, spending Christmas together, perhaps even having a family. Maybe it wasn’t too late, maybe he wasn’t destined to spend his life alone.
He looked across at Anastasia, her silhouette framed in the fading evening light, and he felt a huge rush of affection and a need to protect her – an emotion he hadn’t experienced in many, many years. Not since Sinead.
He walked around the table to where she sat and put his arms around her. Gently, he turned her around to face him. Using his thumbs, he wiped the tears which by now were coursing down her cheeks.
‘I want you too…’ he began, ‘but I’m afraid Anastasia, for loads of reasons…as I said, you’re much braver than me, but I do have feelings for you. I suppose I never even realised it because it would have been like imagining a white blackbird or a steaming hot Christmas Day in Connemara or something equally ridiculous. But, if you’re serious, and I’m what you want, then I’d love to try. I don’t know where this is going to take us, and I’ll need time to get my head around the fact that this amazingly beautiful, smart, funny woman wants me in her life. But, if you’re willing to give it a go, then so am I.’
Anastasia’s face lit up like a child who had just received the best birthday present ever. She jumped up, put her arms around Conor’s neck and drew his face towards hers. He held her as tightly as he dared, terrified that his enormous bulk would crush her diminutive frame. As they kissed, Conor felt as if he had finally come home.
As he opened his eyes next morning, the events of the night before came flooding back to him. He rolled over to the other side of the bed but there was no sign of Anastasia. Panic gripped him momentarily but then he heard the sound of rattling cups and plates emanating from the kitchen. He sat up just as Anastasia appeared in the doorway carrying a tray and wearing his shirt which completely swamped her.
‘Good morning,’ she said shyly, ‘I make you some breakfast.’
Conor glanced at his phone on the bedside table. Luckily, he had told the group they wouldn’t be hitting the road until 10.30am. It was still only 8.30am, he noted with relief.
‘Am I dreaming?’ he asked her as she placed the tray on the locker and cuddled up to him.
‘No,’ she smiled enigmatically, ‘not dreaming. Is all real.’ She leaned in on one elbow and looked directly into his eyes. ‘No regrets I hope?’
‘Em now, let me see…I wake up to the sexiest communist on earth, who claims to love me, though for what reason I can’t imagine. The same communist is attending to my every need and all it’s costing me is the rent of my shirt. I’d have to say now…in all fairness…eh…no regrets.’
He pulled her into his arms.
‘Your coffee is getting cold’ she whispered.
‘True,’ he smiled, ‘but I can have coffee anytime…’ ‘God, I’d better get going,’ he said an hour later.
‘Though I would much rather stay here with you.’
Anastasia’s head nestled on his chest. ‘I must also go. If I’m late, Mr Manner will probably make me cut grass with nail scissors or something.’
‘Listen, you are gorgeous, he on the other hand is not. That’s his problem. Now I really, really, wish I didn’t have to work tonight but I do. I know I’ll see you in the hotel during the day, but can we meet up after dinner?’
Anastasia just looked at him.
‘Sorry, am I coming on a bit strong?’ he said, looking worried. ‘Maybe you have plans.’
‘No I’m just so happy. I felt like it was all me and now for you to want to see me, well it’s…my dream come true. Of course I will see you after work.’
As was getting dressed he had an idea. ‘Anastasia, have you got some holidays that you could take?’
‘Yes, I was going to go home for a week soon, but flights in summer are very expensive so probably I will wait until September when children go back in school and flights are cheaper. Why?’
‘It’s just that when I drop this tour tomorrow I have a few days off. I don’t pick up again until Friday, so I was thinking maybe we could go off somewhere. The two of us like? What d’ya think? I have a small little place in Spain…we could go there.’
‘Oh Conor, that would be so lovely, like a real couple but…’ she hesitated, ‘I am kind of broke at the moment. I had big phone bill after calling home so much when my mother was sick so I can’t really afford to go anywhere right now…maybe in a few weeks…I know you will say, no you will pay but I can’t have relationship with you like that, I must pay my part also…’
Conor looked at her. ‘I know what you’re thinking, and it stops now OK? I love you, and you and me are going to work out just fine. I know it and so what I have I will share with you with an open heart. What else is money for?’
Anastasia whispered, ‘You love me? Really?’
‘Sure isn’t that what I’ve been trying to tell you for months?’ he said with a big laugh. Anastasia punched him on the shoulder.
‘I’ll book you a ticket today OK? Just pack your bikini, or, better still, don’t bother,’ he said giving her a big wink.
‘I’ll drop the tour to the airport in the morning. Park up the coach and all that, and we leave tomorrow lunchtime.’
She looked doubtful. ‘Don’t worry about Carlos. I’ll sort that now when I go in alright?’
‘OK boss,’ she said with a giggle.
Chapter 33
While the group shopped till they dropped, Conor spent the day sitting in the coach doing his paperwork. He attacked this chore somewhat more enthusiastically than usual because getting it over and done with now meant that he could buy extra time with Anastasia before the next tour group landed in on top of him.
As the day wore on, he almost had to pinch himself several times to believe his luck. He
knew he’d be in for a right slagging from everyone once the word got out. In the meantime, he didn’t care: he felt like a teenager. In between sorting out petrol receipts and other tour expenses, he mused about some of the challenges that lay ahead and would have to be met head on. On the plus side, it was reassuring that there was such a big age gap between her own parents. God it was strange the way life worked out sometimes. There he was, just a week ago, envisioning yet another winter on the Spanish coast, playing golf and reading. And now look at him, only a couple of days later, planning to go to a part of the world he could barely find on a map, much less somewhere he had ever planned to visit.
Conor was not so naïve as to think that every romance had a happy ending: he had enough personal experience to know that this wasn’t true but he had a good feeling about Anastasia and himself. She was honest, sincere and kind and he believed her when she said she loved him. For now, what they had was enough, and his instinct was to seize this chance of happiness while he had the opportunity.
In between checking invoices and receipts, he looked at his phone every few minutes, in case he had missed a text message from her. ‘Ah for God’s sake would you ever cop on,’ he berated himself. ‘What are you like?’
Almost on cue, his phone beeped. ‘I miss you xxx,’ the message read.
Conor felt ridiculously happy. He rang the travel agent he always used and booked two seats to Malaga for the following day. This task completed, he popped by Reception to see Katherine O’Brien and to tell her the good news. Simultaneously, he and the restaurant manager appeared out of nowhere. ‘Carlos! How are you?’ Conor said jovially.
Carlos Manner managed to look very put out at being interrupted on his inspection tour. ‘I am well, thank you Conor,’ he replied in his usual, clipped tone. ‘Busy’ he added pointedly.
‘I won’t keep you long. I just wanted to ask a favour. I was hoping to take Anastasia away for a few days, leaving tomorrow. Would that be OK, do you think?’
The Tour Page 25