by Cathy Kelly
‘Way to go, Leila!’ whooped Sinead after her departing back.
Leila took the stairs, running as fast as she could.
‘Devlin!’ she shouted, her voice echoing down the stairwell, but there was no reply. She reached the car park, ran to his space, but his car was gone and her phone was upstairs with her handbag. Shit! She ran back inside, got a lift back up to their floor and ran into reception to find that Tynan was still there.
‘Leila,’ he said, sounding unsure for the first time in his life. ‘You didn’t mean that. You’re just angry and, yes’ – he held his hands up – ‘I humiliated you, so you want to humiliate me back. I get it; I get the game, but let’s stop playing now.’
Leila stood at the reception desk and ran her hands through her hair. It was either that or punch Tynan till his nose bled, and she thought she might break her hand if she did that.
‘Do you know why I haven’t returned your phone calls or messages?’ she said, deadly calm now.
He said nothing, eyes wide, the Tynan charm no longer set to stun.
‘Because my lawyer told me not to,’ she fibbed. ‘I said I wanted a divorce and I didn’t want to either see or talk to you again, and guess what? I don’t have to. Now get out of my office before I take out a restraining order against you!’
It was worth it to see the shock in Tynan’s eyes. He had no happy comeback, no sharp remark.
‘But Leila—’ he began.
All the frustration of having her lunch with Devlin ruined, of what Devlin must think, hit Leila.
‘GO!’ she roared, and with one confused look, Tynan left, without his flowers.
‘I can’t believe he didn’t take them so he could palm them off on some other poor cow,’ she snapped.
‘Can I have them?’ asked Sinead.
‘Of course, I would be thrilled,’ said Leila. She looked at the space where Tynan had been. ‘I honestly don’t know what I ever saw in him.’
‘Ah well, he’s easy on the eye,’ Sinead said. ‘But he’s a bit of a cretin, no offence.’
Leila found she was fighting back the tears. What had Tynan done? She found her phone and dialled Devlin’s number. It went straight to voicemail. Damn. She couldn’t leave a message here in reception, so she ran back into her own office, slammed the door shut and rang again.
Again the phone went to voicemail.
‘Devlin,’ she said, ‘there’s nothing between me and Tynan any more, I promise you. He came to the flat the other night and said he was back and that he wanted to start again. I threw him out. It’s over. Please ring me back, please, I’d love to go to lunch. Tynan’s gone. I’ve told him I never want to see him again. I want to see you. Please call me,’ and she hung up.
She should have said ‘I want you,’ she thought miserably but she couldn’t phone again immediately. All she could do was wait.
‘Men: can’t live with them, can’t kill them,’ Leila muttered to Pixie as they walked along the canal bank that evening. She’d left work on the dot of five thirty, and as a result there was still a glimmer of daylight in the sky as they walked, now that it was officially spring.
Devlin hadn’t returned to the office and he hadn’t returned her calls either. After leaving two more voicemail messages, she’d stopped phoning him. Now she felt both foolish and heartbroken. Stupid man – why hadn’t he stayed long enough to see her push Tynan away? Unless he wasn’t that sure of himself, and that thought gave Leila pause: Devlin not entirely sure of himself.
The arrival of Mitzi and Tasha, bounding along the path towards her, broke into her melancholy.
‘Hello, you two,’ she said, barely able to summon up the energy to talk to them.
Pixie danced around them delightedly, entangling their legs and Leila’s with her lead. The extending lead was brilliant until she started running in and out and winding it around everything and everyone in sight. With the little dogs all wriggling around and the lead getting more and more tangled, Leila finally lost it.
‘Pixie,’ she ordered, ‘stay still for one minute while I unhook you – do not run off, OK?’
She unclipped Pixie’s lead from her collar and began untangling it from the dogs’ legs. Finally she had it and stood up. ‘There, sorted.’
And in that instant, Pixie, Mitzi and Tasha belted off down the path, running like the wind, clearly in pursuit of something.
‘Pixie, come back!’
Leila was wearing her trainers, tracksuit bottoms and a fleecy jacket, so at least she was dressed for the occasion, but one grown-up who didn’t run a lot was no match for three little dogs intent on their quarry. No matter how many times she yelled the dog’s name, it was to no avail.
All she could do was keep running, passing all the other dog-walkers she knew, leaping over small dogs, sidestepping big ones and doggy poo, until finally she couldn’t see Pixie any more. It was getting dark and she’d disappeared.
Mitzi and Tasha’s owner appeared out of the gloom.
‘Are you letting Pixie off the lead these days?’ she asked cheerfully.
‘No,’ wailed Leila, ‘I’m not. I just unhooked her because she was all tangled up, and now she’s run off. She never comes back. I’ve tried letting her off in a playing field near my mum’s place, but I have a terrible time getting her back – and that’s in broad daylight. I would never risk it here, not when it’s almost dark.’
‘She’ll be fine,’ the woman said. ‘I’ll call my pair and she’ll come back with them.’ She held up a silent dog whistle and blew into it. ‘This is the trick – the whistle is what they respond to, not your voice.’
‘Oh thank you,’ said Leila, feeling her heartbeat begin to calm down.
Suddenly two white bundles of fluff appeared, racing along the path.
‘Great,’ said Leila as she spotted them, craning her neck in case Pixie was hidden behind them. But there was no sign of her.
‘Oh gosh, that’s worrying,’ said the woman. ‘Girls, where’s Pixie?’
They stared up at her happily, tails wagging.
‘Oh no,’ said Leila, her heart beginning to race again. ‘Where do they go when you let them off the lead?’
‘They generally just run a bit further down. Sometimes they swerve off to the side to sniff out somebody’s gateway, but that’s it.’
‘Pixie’s no good on roads or gateways,’ said Leila, horrified. ‘She could have been run over. She’s frightened of cars – you’ve seen the way she is when we have to cross the roads at the bridges!’
‘Don’t worry, we’ll find her.’
Together they walked up and down the stretch of canal bank, then the woman said she would go over the bridge to the other side of the canal while Leila backtracked along the path they’d just come along.
‘Keep calling her name – and try this,’ the woman said, handing over the whistle. ‘Don’t worry, she’ll be absolutely fine.’
She set off with Mitzi and Tasha trotting after her obediently, and Leila turned away, tears rolling down her face, cursing herself for letting Pixie off the lead. She was a puppy at heart; she had absolutely no road sense, no sense whatsoever. Goodness knows what might have happened to her. She could have run into the traffic anywhere. Somebody could have taken her …
The tears kept coming. This had been the most dreadful day ever, and now Pixie was gone too. Leila had grown to love the little dog, and as for poor Mum … She couldn’t bear the thought of having to tell her mother that Pixie was lost. What was she going to do?
Her phone rang and she grabbed it frantically, thinking that perhaps someone had found Pixie. She’d taken the precaution of putting her number on the dog’s ID, and now she said a quick prayer that someone was ringing to say they’d got her.
‘Hello,’ she answered breathlessly.
‘Leila …’ It was Devlin.
‘Devlin, oh God, I’m so sorry about today – I’ve been leaving messages trying to talk to you, but I can’t talk now because Pixie’s run away
on me and I can’t find her. I’ve been up and down calling her and whistling, but now it’s dark and …’
She was so distraught she barely knew what she was saying. She had such faith in Devlin – he could do anything, fix any problem – that she was ready to plead for his help in finding the dog, even though he was angry with her, even though this wasn’t the sort of problem he was accustomed to dealing with.
‘Pixie – that’s your mum’s dog, right?’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I walk her along the canal at night. I let her off for just one minute near the lock on Baggot Street Bridge so I could untangle her lead, and she ran after two other dogs and now she’s gone. Please help.’
‘Stay where you are,’ he said. ‘I’ll be there in ten minutes.’
In the event, he was there much sooner, striding towards her in a big leather coat and jeans with a packet of biscuits in his hand. ‘Let’s rattle these,’ he said. ‘Dogs love biscuits.’
‘Oh, Devlin,’ Leila said, and burst into tears. He pulled her into his arms as if it was something he’d been doing for years, and held her tight. Not a romantic hug but a comforting one.
She buried her head in his chest and he whispered into her hair, ‘It’s going to be fine, Leila. It’s going to be fine.’
‘I’m so sorry about earlier,’ she said. ‘It’s all over with Tynan.’
‘I know,’ he whispered, ‘I know. Sinead gave me the details. Restraining order, huh? I wish I’d been there to see that.’ He smiled at her. ‘I should have stayed around longer and knocked his block off. Now, let’s find this naughty little doggy, shall we?’
It felt better now that he was there, calling out for Pixie. It was fully dark by this time, but Leila didn’t feel afraid. Only a very foolhardy person would take on someone Devlin’s size.
Finally they’d walked both sides of the canal, two miles in each direction.
‘Let’s head back to your apartment,’ said Devlin. ‘She’ll know where to go. I’ll ring the police and the dog pound while we’re walking.’
With one arm around her, he used the other to make the phone calls. Leila couldn’t stop crying. All she could think of was poor Pixie out there, lost and frightened, not knowing where she was. Maybe somebody was hurting her. People did such dreadful things to dogs. Leila had seen the programmes about animal cruelty and she couldn’t bear to think of anyone hurting Pixie.
Devlin finished his calls and shook his head at her. Nobody had found Pixie; there was no news of her from the police, the dog pound, the ISPCA.
‘She’s not microchipped is she?’ he asked at one point.
Leila shook her head.
‘I should have done that,’ she said, ‘I should have.’
She was out of tears by the time they reached the part of the canal where she and Pixie had started their walk. They crossed the road, turned up the lane and walked towards Leila’s apartment building. And suddenly she blinked, for there, sitting under the street light beside the entrance, was Pixie.
‘Pixie!’ yelled Leila, and the little dog turned and flew towards them, tail wagging frantically. She leapt ecstatically on to Leila as if she’d been waiting for her all evening and was wondering where she had been.
‘Oh, Pixie, you terror, you frightened the life out of me.’
She fell to her knees and began hugging and kissing the little dog, who seemed more interested in the biscuit Devlin was holding out for her.
‘Hello, Pixie,’ said Devlin, and, seeing as how he was the great biscuit source, she began to leap all over him too. ‘You’re a terrible scamp, you know that,’ he said fondly, ‘running off and scaring Leila.’
Pixie wriggled against him joyously.
‘I didn’t know you liked dogs,’ said Leila.
He grinned at her. ‘There’s a lot you don’t know about me.’
Twenty-Two
The man may be the head of the home, but the wife is the heart. KENYAN PROVERB
Devlin stopped for petrol on the outskirts of Bridgeport. While he was inside paying, Leila flicked down the passenger mirror and looked at herself critically. She was glowing. There really was no other word for it. It was like she was lit up from the inside. She wanted to pinch herself, because she couldn’t quite believe what was happening.
‘Do you think I’m glowing?’ she asked Pixie, who was sitting very happily on the back seat of Devlin’s big, luxurious car.
Pixie instantly scrambled up to the front seat to give her a lick.
‘So glad you agree,’ murmured Leila happily. ‘Or do you just want to lick my face cream off?’
Devlin slid back into the front seat.
‘Now, Pixie,’ he said, ‘kissing her is my job.’
Leila grinned. ‘Pixie doesn’t see it that way – I’m afraid you’re going to have to share.’
‘All right,’ he said with a pretend groan, reaching out to ruffle Pixie’s fur. Then he leaned forward and kissed Leila on the lips with a passion that still hadn’t stopped thrilling her. How had she thought Tynan could kiss, or that Tynan was sexy, for that matter?
Somehow Pixie wriggled herself in between them.
‘I’m going to miss this little puplet when I have to give her back to Mum,’ said Leila, laughing.
‘You could get your own little puplet,’ said Devlin, eyes glinting, ‘but we’d have to train it not to come between us when I want to kiss you.’
Leila laughed. ‘I don’t think you can train a dog not to do that. Besides, the petrol station outside town is not the place to do proper kissing.’
Devlin’s face lit up with that grin that always took her breath away. ‘Later, then,’ he said. ‘When we get to this hotel you’ve booked me into.’
Birdie had had her hair styled for the rehearsal dinner. She’d asked Grace where the best hairdresser was and Grace had recommended the place she went to.
‘Birdie,’ Grace had said, thinking about it, ‘I keep picturing you with lovely waves. Still, ask Renee. She’s an expert. She’ll know what to do.’
Birdie liked the rippling curls that added body to her silvery hair.
She was wearing the soft coral dress she’d seen in the window of the shop the day she’d first found out about Howard’s affair. It was strange: she should have been disgusted at the very thought of the dress, but it was so beautiful and such a lovely colour. Besides, rather than associating it with the betrayal, she had decided to look upon it as the first thing she’d bought after she was set free.
Not that she’d realised it at the time, no, but she realised it now.
Howard had given her a wonderful gift by cheating on her. He’d given her her freedom, and that was what she’d needed for a very long time.
‘You look nice,’ he said, walking into the bedroom to get ready himself and stopping in astonishment at the sight of his normally drab wife dressed up in something other than one of her four going-out outfits.
She didn’t reply.
‘I said, you look nice,’ he repeated, more loudly.
‘Thank you,’ Birdie replied, looking at him with a lot more self-possession than he’d ever seen in her eyes before. She carried on putting on lipstick to match the outfit. She had another dress for tomorrow, too.
Just tonight and tomorrow, Birdie thought, doing her best to ignore her husband. That’s all I have to get through.
The divorce lawyer had been so helpful.
‘Decide what you want to do,’ she’d explained to Birdie. ‘We have a no-fault divorce system in this country, but you should be prepared – your husband will want to protect his assets and may do everything he can to keep them from you. Do you think that’s a possibility?’
‘Oh yes,’ said Birdie, ‘I’d put money on it. Thing is, I’m not after his money. That’s not what this is about at all. I don’t need a lot.’
‘That’s a lovely way to think,’ said the lawyer charmingly. ‘Many clients come in with that attitude. But the old adage that you don’t know a person until you mee
t them in the divorce courts is very true, so let’s make sure you get what you deserve. Then you can choose what to do with it. If you want to give half of it to the dogs’ home, that’s up to you, but my job is to ensure that you get what you’re legally entitled to.’
Legal entitlement, thought Birdie, finishing with her lipstick. None of this was about legal entitlement or money or anything like that. It was about self-respect and having the sort of life she wanted to lead. She hadn’t had that with Howard for a very long time. Not that it was really his fault; they’d simply been wrong for each other from the start.
The only wonderful thing from their marriage was their darling, beloved Katy. And for that reason alone she would never regret marrying Howard.
Telling Katy was going to be the most horrendous thing, and Birdie had decided she’d break the news to Michael first and let him gauge a good time. Upsetting her pregnant daughter was not what she wanted to do, but, she thought with resignation, it had to be done. There was to be no more hiding. Birdie would have the sort of life she wanted – and Thumper, sitting beside her adoringly, would be a big part of that.
Stephen was one of the first to arrive at the restaurant. He hugged Katy and Michael, who’d got there before anyone else.
‘How are you doing, Dad?’ said Michael, holding his father for longer than usual in the embrace. ‘Have you spoken to Julia?’
Stephen had told Fiona and Michael that he and Julia had split up.
‘I’m doing fine,’ said Stephen. ‘Things are OK. I’ve moved out of the apartment, but I caught up with Julia a few days ago. She seems good; full of plans to walk the Camino de Santiago de Compostela with her friend Rosa. Apparently it’s something she’s always wanted to do, and I never knew. Amazing – you can live with someone for thirteen years and not know stuff like that.’
Katy put her arm through Michael’s. ‘We know everything about each other,’ she said, grinning up at him.
Stephen smiled at his daughter-in-law to be. ‘Yes, I think you probably do,’ he said.
It was knowing everything about yourself that he found tricky. Now he knew what he wanted, what he’d probably wanted for years, and it was too late to do anything about it. Yes, self-knowledge: that was the thing.