by Melissa Hill
He nodded. “Hard to believe, isn’t it? It’ll be all hours by the time we get back to Dublin.”
It must have been the wine because the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. “Well, why don’t we stay? I mean, we could both relax and have a few drinks, and you wouldn’t have to worry about driving.” She could feel her cheeks reddening as she spoke. Please don’t let him take this the wrong way, she prayed silently.
“Great idea,” Mike agreed happily. “When we’re finished here, I’ll ask for a couple of rooms at reception.”
Jenny spread mint sauce over her Wicklow lamb, pleased with her suggestion, and the fact that Mike didn’t seem to read anything into it. It had been a very long day and she was tired. The thought of spending the rest of the evening relaxing with a few drinks in the hotel bar, rather than facing the car trip back to Dublin, appealed to her a great deal.
As if to demonstrate his newfound freedom, Mike poured a generous measure of wine into his glass, and ordered another bottle. The waiter was about to uncork the bottle, when Mike’s mobile phone beeped loudly.
“Ah, a text message – somebody loves me.” he said, searching for the phone in the pockets of his jacket.
“I can never get the hang of those things,” Jenny said. “All that word-shortening – it can’t be good for the language. I’m pretty sure that eventually we won’t be able to spell anything properly.” She looked up when Mike didn’t answer. He was laughing quietly at the contents of his message. “What’s so funny?” she asked, feeling a bit put out about their cosy dinner being interrupted
“It’s from Becky,” he laughed, as he scrolled down through the message again. “She’s just sent me the most stupid joke – here, take a look at it.” He handed her the phone across the table.
Jenny read the message, reluctantly plastered a weak smile onto her face, and handed the phone back to him.
“Well?” said Mike good-humouredly. “Did you get it?”
Jenny didn’t. She didn’t get the joke and she certainly didn’t get the seemingly close relationship Mike obviously still had with his ex-wife. She pushed her food around the plate, her appetite as well as her good mood having worn off all of a sudden.
“I didn’t realise you and Rebecca got on so well, considering …” she said, unable to look at him.
“Considering?”
“Considering the reasons for your break-up, I mean,” she stammered. “I mean – the way she left you for someone else and –” Seeing his expression darken, she broke off.
“Jenny,” Mike said, a warning tone in his voice, “you and I have become good friends over the last few months. But you have no idea what you’re talking about. The reasons for my marriage break-up weren’t as straightforward as you might think.”
He drank from his glass. “We each went through a lot of heartache towards the end. Believe me, I was no saint either. By throwing myself heavily into my work, I abandoned her too, in a way.”
“Mike,” Jenny interjected, annoyed with herself for saying anything, “I’m so sorry – it just came out. I really didn’t mean to pry.”
He shook his head. “It’s probably my own fault for making it sound like I was the one hard done by. But you don’t know how much it means to me that Rebecca and I are adult enough to stay friends, after everything we went through together. I have no animosity towards her, and she’s always been, and still is, one of my closest friends. I even get on with Graham – that’s her new man, by the way.” He smiled. “I know what you’re thinking,” he went on, as Jenny struggled to keep the shock from registering on her face, “but there’s no point in being bitter and twisted over it. I’m glad that she’s found happiness with someone else, really I am. I still love her, but not in that way, not any more.”
Jenny thought his eyes looked suspiciously bright and she resolved to change the subject. How could she have been so flippant about it? Mike and his ex-wife had probably been to hell and back together, yet still managed to maintain their friendship. It was a noble and very mature attitude – an adult attitude. Jenny thought she must have sounded like a spoilt teenager, going on about it like that. She shook her head. “Look, Mike, you don’t know how sorry I am. I really didn’t mean – ”
His eyes twinkled with good humour. “Jenny – it’s fine really, just forget about it. Now,” he said, pushing his empty plate away from him with a grin, “will we go for dessert or what?”
“No way,” Jenny put a hand on her stomach, pleased that the uncomfortable moment had passed. “If I eat anything else, I’ll explode.”
“Not at all. If anything, you could do with a bit of meat on your bones. Ally McBeal has nothing on you, girl.”
Jenny laughed, her early good humour returning. “Don’t try to justify your gluttony by forcing food on me. Seriously,” she said, shaking her head at the waiter, who was waiting to take their order, “I really couldn’t handle another bite.”
“OK, OK. I won’t have anything else either,” he said, getting up from the table. “Why don’t you go on into the bar, and I’ll see if I can organise some rooms for the night?”
As Jenny watched him walk confidently through the double doors to reception, she again admonished herself for her behaviour earlier. What was wrong with her lately? Did she feel jealous of Rebecca and Mike’s relationship? It wasn’t as though she and Mike were anything more than friends, so what was the problem?
“Right – that’s that sorted,” he said, joining her at the bar. “We’re on the third floor, across the hall from one another. I’ll tell you though,” he said, looking at his watch and yawning, “I’m fairly beat after today and after all that food. I don’t think it’ll be a late night for me.”
“I know what you mean,” Jenny agreed. “I feel like I’ve eaten enough to keep me going for a week.”
Mike sat down beside her on a comfy sofa against the wall. For a Saturday night, the place seemed very quiet. Apart from a small group sitting up at the bar watching Match of the Day and some couples sitting at tables dotted around the room, the place was practically empty. Jenny sat back almost horizontally on the sofa. The combination of the food, the wine and the day’s driving was making her feel very drowsy. Mike was sitting so close to her; she’d only have to lift her head slightly to lay it on his chest. She longed for sleep.
Mike smiled lazily across at her. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
Jenny nodded, with heavy-lidded eyes. “If it involves a bed, most definitely yes.”
Mike sat up. “Jenny Hamilton. Are you propositioning me?”
Looking up, Jenny saw his eyes twinkling with humour. Then his expression changed and become very serious. He must have seen it in her eyes, because she couldn’t help what she did next. Putting an arm around his neck, Jenny pulled his head towards hers and planted a gentle kiss on his mouth. He pulled back slightly, looking at her questioningly for a moment, but then she reached up for another kiss, answering his question without saying a word. This time the kiss wasn’t as one-sided, and as it deepened, a massive longing swept through Jenny like a thunderbolt. Then she remembered where they were. “Mike,” she said, opening her eyes and looking around her with embarrassment.
“You’re right,” he said breathlessly, sitting up straight, “I’m sorry – it was all my fault, I shouldn’t have – ”
“No, silly,” she said with a grin, tightening her arms around him. “I meant that I have no intention of providing unexpected entertainment in this place.”
They were upstairs and inside his room within minutes.
Jenny didn’t quite know why she had done what she did just then in the bar, but she knew without hesitation that she wanted Mike Kennedy. There was no point in trying to kid herself any longer. There was, and probably had been from the beginning, she admitted, a lot more between the two of them than friendship.
Mike was passionate and extremely skilful. They made love the first time with a ferocity that surprised them both, J
enny slightly overwhelmed at the depth of her longing for him. The second time was gentler, more loving and, Jenny thought, for the very first time with anyone – a lot more fun. With Mike, it was all about touching and teasing, and laughing, not about racing to the finishing line, which is how it had been with Roan.
Afterwards, she nestled easily into the crook of his arm and fell fast asleep, waking only when she felt him kiss the tip of her nose the next morning.
She looked up and him and smiled. “Morning,” she said shyly.
“Hi,” he grinned, kissing her gently on the mouth and then proceeding to make love to her slowly and sensuously.
They dozed happily in bed for the remainder of the morning, until around eleven o’clock when Mike declared that he was ravenous, and couldn’t wait a minute longer for breakfast, even if he had to go into town to get it.
“Typical.” Jenny said, sitting up in the bed and crossing her arms in mock petulance. “You and your bloody stomach.”
Mike laughed and kicked her under the sheets. “Come on, woman. You don’t think a man can carry on like that all night, and the next morning without the need for some form of sustenance, do you?”
“Well, I suppose you do deserve something for that performance,” she teased
“You’d better believe it.” Mike dragged her back down beside him, and kissed her deeply. “And,” he added, with a serious look in his eyes, “you’d better get used to it.”
Jenny looked up at him, not sure what to say. She hoped that he meant it. It certainly seemed like this could be the beginning of something good between them, but she wasn’t quite sure about how Mike felt about getting involved in another relationship. She hoped that things wouldn’t become strange between them if he decided he didn’t want that. Although, thought Jenny, she wasn’t quite sure about it herself. All along she had protested to anyone that asked that she didn’t feel that way about Mike, but lately, her feelings had changed. If he was willing, she certainly wouldn’t mind giving it a shot. Mike seemed to read her thoughts.
“I’m really glad this happened, Jenny,” he said, searching for his boxers at the end of the bed. “You probably know well that I’ve fancied you for ages.”
Jenny burst out laughing. Putting it like that, Mike sounded like a school-kid, not a thirty-five-year-old divorcee. She realised then that his childlike honesty and unyielding good nature were the things she liked most about him. She need not have worried about any discomfort between them afterwards. There would be no game-playing where Mike was concerned.
“I’m glad too,” she said, “but it was certainly unexpected. I don’t know what came over me in the bar last night.”
“You wanton woman, pulling and dragging at me in front of a room full of people.” He ducked as she tried to whack him with a pillow.
“I’ll show you a wanton woman,” Jenny said, dragging him back down on the bed and kissing him decisively.
Chapter 32
Karen sat staring at the monitor in front of her eyes. Try as she might, she just couldn’t concentrate on anything today. Her weekend had been disastrous and she and Shane were hardly speaking. Nellie Quinn hadn’t left the house until late Saturday evening, and by then Karen had had more than enough.
She had let rip at Shane as soon as Nellie was out the door, not caring whether or not the woman heard her. But he just couldn’t seem to understand her point of view.
“What’s the big deal about giving her a key? She’s my mother, for God’s sake – I can’t have her standing outside in the wind and the rain.”
“Shane, this is our house. I’m a private person – I can’t handle all this interfering and criticism about my housekeeping, my decorating or my procreating for that matter.”
“What in God’s name are you talking about now?” Shane asked, his voice slow and deliberate.
“Oh come on.” she shouted. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed it. All this ‘when are you setting a date, Karen – you don’t want to be too old for your first, Karen – your biological clock is ticking, Karen’? Jesus Christ, I feel like some kind of brood mare these days.” She sat down at the kitchen table, her face red with exasperation.
“Well – maybe they have a point,” he said carefully. “When are we going to set a date? I’ve mentioned it a million times since we moved in here, and you keep avoiding the subject. What’s going on?”
She said nothing.
“I asked you a question,” Shane said, his voice getting angry. “What’s going on?”
She couldn’t look at him. She didn’t know what to say. Shane didn’t understand, couldn’t understand how much she resented his family’s involvement in their life together. They were trying to control everything, from the mortgage to the house and the wedding – everything. Naturally, she wanted to make plans for their future, but just the two of them – just her and Shane. No one else had any right to interfere.
“I’m sorry, Shane,” was all she could say. “I’m just not sure any more.”
She regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth. The look on his face was pure hurt. Karen didn’t think she had ever seen him look so wounded.
He had walked out of the kitchen, and a few minutes later she heard the front door slam.
Karen jumped when the telephone on her desk rang suddenly. It was Mark King from Head Office, wanting to know if she had yet found a suitable temporary replacement for his PA. Melanie, his existing assistant, was going on maternity leave next month. The girl was only twenty-three, Karen thought, pulling the personnel file from a drawer beside her desk. Did she have any idea how much her life would change once she had this baby? Karen thought that it was highly unlikely that Melanie would return to work afterwards, and she had interviewed prospective candidates with this in mind. It would save her extra work in having to find someone permanent, once Melanie finally made up her mind, and announced that she wasn’t coming back. It was assuming a lot, Karen knew, but she was pretty confident in her assumption, having seen it happen time and time again within the company. She discovered that many careers and ambitions were often hastily discarded once a child appeared on the scene. Sure, many woman returned to work, but Karen couldn’t see how they could possibly have the same drive and energy to succeed. Work became just a necessity, a means to an end – a way of paying the mortgage, not to mention the childminder. Years of effort sacrificed, gone straight out the window, or to the next bright young thing that came in to take your place.
Karen was not going to let that happen to her. She loved this job, had worked hard to get where she was, and she wasn’t going to let Shane and his interfering family put pressure on her to start a family and throw it all away. Maybe they might have children eventually, but not until they were both ready. After all, money would be more than tight if one of them was absent from work for any length of time. Nellie Quinn would just have to wait a little longer for her precious first Quinn grandchild. What a pity old Jackie boy wouldn’t find a woman for himself, and take some of the heat off her and Shane.
Karen sighed. She was tired of feeling morose and depressed lately. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been able to really relax and have a bit of fun. The situation with Shane’s family consumed her thoughts from the moment she woke up each morning to the hours it took her to get to sleep each night. Lying in the dark beside a snoring Shane, she just couldn’t stop her mind racing, as she had imaginary conversations and arguments with Nellie for hours on end. She could actually feel a knot of anxiety and frustration forming within her. She couldn’t go on like this.
Karen picked up the handset and dialled Jenny’s work number.
The following Thursday evening after work, Karen took a bus as far as Dawson Street, and walked the rest of the way to Pearse Street station. As she approached the building from across the road, she saw Jenny waiting outside for her.
“Wow, you look fantastic.” Karen said, when Jenny skipped across the pedestrian crossing to join her. “Y
ou’ve put on some weight, haven’t you?”
“Karen, do you honestly think that’s some kind of compliment?” Jenny said, trying to look insulted, but the glint in her eye suggesting she was not at all put out by the comment.
“It is when it comes to you. You lost a lot of weight over the last few months, so it’s nice to see you looking normal, and with a bit of colour in your cheeks again.”
Jenny grimaced. “So what’s up?” she asked, watching her friend with some concern. She might have noticed a change in Jenny’s appearance, but there was no mistaking the strained look on Karen’s face. The heavy make-up she wore couldn’t conceal the dark circles under her eyes, and the blemishes on her skin. Karen looked as though she hadn’t slept for a week.
“I’ll tell you later,” Karen said glumly, not wanting to go into the gory details with Jenny while walking down the street. “Let’s go somewhere nice for food – I had an early lunch today and I’m pretty famished.”
They decided on Pasta Fresca, a little Italian pizzeria just off Grafton Street.
“So, tell me your news,” Karen urged, as soon as they were comfortably settled at a table for two, a bottle of the house white cooling on the table between them. “You mentioned on the phone that you had a bit of gossip, and you haven’t been able to stop smiling since I met you at the station.”
Jenny smiled broadly, as if she had been waiting for Karen to ask that very question.
“Well,” she clasped her fingers together, “it’s Mike, well, me and Mike really –”
Karen, grinned, understanding perfectly. “You and Mike Kennedy finally got it together – that’s terrific news, Jenny. Tell me how, when, where, everything.”
“Well … I was supposed to be helping him look for a new house this weekend
and …”
Karen leaned in closer, as Jenny recalled the previous weekend’s events. She was thrilled for her friend but at the same time felt a little more deflated about her own situation with Shane. Why was it that when she had been at her happiest, Jenny had been going through hell with Roan, and now that Jenny had found happiness with someone, Karen was the one in trouble? It seemed cruel.