Regrets (Follow Your Heart Book 2)

by Caragh Bell

  ‘Dinner is at seven,’ announced Colin, shooing Val out of the room. ‘I decided to go for a traditional meal. Lyd. How does bacon and cabbage sound?’

  ‘It sounds great, just great.’ She hugged herself in delight. ‘I’ll just start unpacking. Oh, and Col?’

  ‘Yeah?’ He popped his head in the door.

  ‘I promise I’ll be tidy,’ she proclaimed seriously.

  He smiled mechanically. ‘I know you will, of course.’

  He looked like he didn’t believe it for a second. Lydia was naturally messy and would never change. Colin knew this and struggled to accept it.

  ‘What if she leaves a cup on the table?’ Val had mocked him two days before her arrival. ‘Or clothes on the ground?’

  ‘It’ll be fine,’ retorted Colin, through gritted teeth. ‘Just fine.’

  The door closed. Lydia abandoned her overflowing suitcase and flopped on her new bed. Switching on the TV, she flicked through the channels.

  Suddenly, her phone rang. It was her mother.

  ‘Darling, are you all settled?’

  ‘Hi, Mum,’ she answered, smiling. ‘I’m here. Oh my God, you should see my room. It’s so luxurious.’

  ‘When are you starting your job?’

  ‘Well, I don’t have it yet. Colin thinks it’s a given, but I’m not too sure.’

  Helen hesitated. ‘I’m sure you’ll be hired in a flash. Just smile and be helpful.’

  ‘I suppose. How’s everyone?’

  ‘Everyone is fine. Baby Seán is teething so Sarah isn’t getting much sleep.’

  ‘Oh, dear.’

  ‘I’d love to see you, darling. Will you come home this weekend? I’m doing a roast beef and I’d like us all to be together.’

  Lydia brightened. ‘I would absolutely love it. Thanks, Mum. Can I bring Colin? Val mentioned earlier that he will be working this weekend.’

  ‘Of course. See you on Saturday. Text me when you hear about the job.’

  The line went dead.

  ‘Lydia?’ Colin called. ‘Dinner’s ready!’

  ‘Coming!’ She switched off the TV and headed to the living room.

  Colin burst into her room at seven the next morning.

  ‘Up and at ’em!’ he announced, pulling the curtains.

  Lydia groaned and pulled a pillow over her head. ‘No, no. Go away. It’s too early.’

  ‘You have to come in to work with me today. We have to get you that job.’

  ‘Not today, I’m exhausted.’

  ‘Move it, princess. You have to sort your shit out.’ He pulled the duvet off the bed.

  Lydia sat bolt upright. ‘It’s freezing! Give me back my blanket.’

  ‘Move!’

  He had muesli and fresh fruit on the table when she emerged.

  ‘Coffee?’ He held up a coffee capsule.

  ‘Yeah, great.’ She took a seat and nibbled on a strawberry. ‘So, what do I need to say at this interview?’

  ‘Let me do the talking. Adam, the boss, he loves me.’

  ‘I hope I get something.’ She felt insecure at the thought of an interview. What had she to offer?

  ‘Oh, you will. We badly need a slave – a person to do all the things we don’t like.’

  Lydia made a face. ‘Sounds fab.’

  ‘Network, you doze. That’s what you do. Hell, sleep your way to the top if you have to.’ He started to froth some milk for his cappuccino. ‘You are pretty and bright. You’ll get noticed in no time.’

  Lydia wasn’t so sure. It would take an awful lot of luck to get anywhere in this climate. Still, with Colin at her side, she stood a better chance than most.

  ‘Eat up, I hate being late.’ He drank his coffee quickly. ‘First impressions, Lyd. They are super-important.’

  They arrived at the Papped! building in record time. It was situated on the South Mall which was right in the centre of the city. A small fashion magazine, it had been founded by Adam Kearney seven years before and was slowly making its name in the fashion industry.

  Colin chattered incessantly on the way and for that Lydia was glad. She was feeling quite nervous. She had never gone for an interview before and wasn’t really sure how to approach it.

  She had typed up a makeshift CV, describing her qualifications and good points. It turned out to be quite lame: on paper, she was quite limited. This irked her. It made her feel silly and worthless. Slowly but surely she could feel determination wash through her veins. She would be successful; she would make something of herself.

  They pushed open the glass doors and walked into the lobby. It was small and minimalist; there were white marble floors, a marble counter where the receptionist sat and one plant in the corner.

  ‘Hi, Suze,’ called Colin as he strode past. ‘Any post for me?’

  Suze, the receptionist, had bright red hair, which Lydia could see was out of a bottle, earrings all up her ears and a giant tongue stud. Her long hair was shaved at the side and she wore at least twenty multi-coloured bangles on her arm. Her yellow T-shirt was torn at the side, a deliberate gaping hole that revealed a tight black camisole underneath.

  She waved enthusiastically. ‘Hi, Colin! No, nothing yet. I love your coat.’

  He stopped short. ‘You are such a doll to notice! This is Burberry. I got it in the sale at BTs. I wasn’t sure about the colour but –’

  She silenced him with her hand. ‘It’s gorge,’ she affirmed. ‘Just fab. I’m so jealous.’

  ‘See you later for coffee break?’

  ‘Sure, I’ll put the order in. A skinny latte?’

  Colin nodded. ‘Oh, Suze! This is my cousin Lydia. She’s here for an interview.’

  ‘Hi!’ said Suze beaming at her. ‘Nice to meet you. Would you like a coffee later?’

  Lydia smiled. ‘Just a black coffee. Thanks, Suze.’

  ‘Got it.’ Suze scribbled down her order. ‘See you later.’

  They continued on through the imposing wooden door to the left of reception.

  ‘How many people work here?’ enquired Lydia in a low voice.

  ‘About twenty. We cover fashion, beauty and women’s problems.’

  ‘What do you mean ‘women’s problems’?’

  ‘Oh, you know. Periods, men, weight, grey hair. We have a brilliant agony aunt called Clarissa. You should read her column. She’s inspiring.’

  They arrived at an office door which was tightly closed. The sign on the door read ‘Mr Adam Kearney’.

  ‘This is the boss. Now, follow me and for God’s sake keep smiling.’ Colin burst through the door. ‘Adam!’

  Lydia walked in and was confronted with a man of about forty-five sitting behind a large desk. His hair was grey at the temples, his skin was tanned and his eyes were a jade-green. He was dressed casually in a navy long-sleeved top and dark-blue jeans.

  ‘Colin, good morning,’ he said in a deep voice. ‘Is this your cousin?’

  Colin flopped down on a chair. ‘This is she. Will she do?’

  Adam looked her up and down. ‘She’ll do.’

  Lydia looked around in confusion. This was not how interviews were supposed to happen. Where were the questions? Her CV was burning a hole in her bag.

  ‘Cool, I’ll show her around then.’ Colin winked at him. ‘She’s the best choice for the job.’

  ‘I don’t doubt it.’ Adam turned back to his Mac. ‘Tell Suze I want a mocha this morning.’

  ‘Will do.’ Colin pulled a gaping Lydia out of the room and shut the door.

  Lydia pulled Colin’s sleeve. ‘What was that about?’

  ‘Adam doesn’t waste time. He needs a person to do odd jobs around the place like ordering coffee, a bit of organising, things like that.’ Colin patted her arm. ‘It will be a bit of money at the end of the week until you get sorted.’

  ‘Is he straight?’ She couldn’t tell.

  ‘No, he’s gay as Christmas, but a sort of Val kinda gay. You know, manly.’

  ‘A Val kinda gay?’ She raised an eyeb
row.

  ‘You know what I mean. I’m the girlie one, the drama queen, the fashion buff. Val is just Val. He likes beer and jeans. Not overtly gay to the naked eye. We are the yin and yang of gayness.’

  ‘Is Adam single?’

  ‘God no, not with a body like that. He’s engaged actually. To a guy called Maximilian.’ Colin sighed. ‘I’m so jealous.’

  She punched him playfully in the arm. ‘Will you stop! Think of Val.’

  ‘Oh, doubt not my love for Valentine, Lyd,’ he chided. ‘However, I’m not dead either. I do notice other men, you know.’ He guided her into a small kitchenette. ‘This will be your office for now. Your role is to be at the beck and call of the staff.’

  ‘How awful.’ Lydia looked gloomy.

  ‘It’s a start. Start writing and submitting stuff too. You never know.’

  He headed off in the direction of his booth so Lydia followed. His desk was predictably super-tidy. All that was visible was an enormous Mac, a framed photo of Val and a neat pile of envelopes. All his pens were stacked in a silver container. A small partitioned wall separated him from the girl next door.

  ‘Her name is Chloe,’ he whispered, jabbing his thumb in the direction of her cubicle. ‘A total pain.’

  She nodded knowingly. ‘I’ll keep that in mind.’

  Chapter 15

  Her first day was hectic. Not only was she constantly on the move getting anything from staples to sandwiches, she met a lot of new people too.

  She and Colin walked home together, arm in arm.

  Rush hour was in full swing. Lines of cars waited for the traffic lights to turn green, the drivers impatiently banging the wheel when the car in front didn’t move on in time.

  She began to quiz him about the staff she had encountered.

  ‘So, there was this really cute guy called Joe. He’s the skinny one with Buddy Holly glasses – he wears a cardigan?’

  ‘Joe is really cool. He’s the best gossip. I swear to God, he knows about things before they even happen.’

  ‘I met him at the photocopier and he knew my life story in about thirty seconds.’ She giggled.

  ‘That’s Joe, alright. He has a knack for extracting information.’

  ‘He seems really nice though. He invited me out clubbing next weekend.’

  Colin looked impressed. ‘Nice work. Joe doesn’t suffer fools gladly. You must have passed the test.’

  ‘Test?’ She raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Oh, Joe has a test. If you pass, he hangs out with you. If not? Well, let’s just say that Chloe Bitch didn’t pass. In fact, she failed badly.’

  Lydia laughed. ‘I see what you mean about her. She ordered me to pick up her laundry downtown. I told her to go and jump so she got really annoyed.’

  ‘What happened?’ Colin’s eyes were wide.

  ‘She marched in to Adam, complaining that I was useless. Joe was outside the door, supposedly waiting for a fax.’

  ‘Go on,’ urged Colin in excitement.

  ‘Adam told her to piss off. It was so funny Joe nearly fell in the door laughing.’

  He squeezed her arm. ‘Good. Adam knows what a cow she is.’

  ‘The most hilarious part for me was the way Joe had all the news and was telling everyone five minutes later.’

  ‘I’m telling you, he’s unreal. Better than Facebook.’

  Val was cooking pasta when they finally got home.

  ‘Good day, Lyd?’ he asked, wiping his hands on a tea towel. ‘I made some linguine with lemon and broccoli if you’re interested.’

  ‘She had a great day,’ Colin answered before she could open her mouth. ‘Adam hired her straight away, Joe asked her out clubbing and she put Chloe Bitch in her place.’ He took off his jacket and hung it on the hook behind the door.

  ‘That’s good going.’ Val dished up three bowls of pasta and sat down at the table. ‘Col, get the parmesan from the fridge, will you?’

  Lydia sat down opposite Val, her stomach growling. She was really hungry after her day. It had been hectic; she seemed to be running all over the place. If it wasn’t down to the coffee house next door, she was sent to the post office with parcels and letters to post. Then Adam wanted her to go to the printer’s to pick up posters, so she ran all the way. Arriving back to the office, red-faced and out of breath, she found out that the posters were wrong and needed to be done again. Cue another journey to the printer’s, another round of coffees and a trip to Eason’s stationary section for a specific size of stapler.

  Colin sidled in beside her and grated some cheese on his dinner.

  ‘I told her to write some articles to get noticed,’ he announced.

  Val nodded in agreement, his mouth full. Then swallowing loudly, he asked, ‘What kind of articles would you like to try?’

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe reviewing books or something?’ Lydia forked up her pasta. ‘Wow, Val! This is yummy.’

  Colin shook his head. ‘No, no! You should write feature articles. Like, have a weekly column about life and relationships and stuff.’ He gulped his wine in excitement. ‘You’ve so much experience, you know, with heartbreak and so on.’

  ‘I do?’ She gave him a hard look.

  ‘Sure you do. You broke two hearts, ran off to the most beautiful city in the world and now you’re back, better than ever.’ He took a breath. ‘I’ll suggest it to Adam. You could be our own Carrie Bradshaw.’

  She rolled her eyes to heaven. ‘I don’t think so, Col. I mean, I don’t think Cork is ready for a weekly column on dildos and sex swings.’

  ‘It doesn’t have to be about sex. It could be about anything. Your life, the wedding, observations.’ He twirled his pasta around his fork. ‘Don’t write it off just yet, pardon the pun.’ He giggled.

  Val refilled her wineglass. ‘I think that, for once, he may be on to something.’

  ‘For once?’ shrieked Colin.

  ‘Jot down some ideas,’ continued Val. ‘It might flow.’

  She said nothing, but just twirled some pasta around with her fork. Maybe Colin was right. Maybe, just maybe, she might have something interesting to say. She could definitely scribble down some thoughts on love and friendship and work. All universal themes that the public would relate to. If she wrote three or four, Colin could read them and give her advice. Then, if he liked them she could email them to Adam. He might think they were terrible … but he might not.

  Ideas began to form in her mind. Baby Seán, Sarah and Andy, for example. The fact that men mysteriously sleep through the night feeds. She could make it humorous and accessible. Or Colin and Val. The lives of an everyday gay couple in a new modern Ireland.

  ‘Colin, you’re a genius!’ She jumped up and hugged him fiercely. ‘It might work!’

  He squeezed her back. ‘You’re too good to be a dogsbody, girl. Get writing.’

  ‘Well, good luck.’ Val raised his glass of wine. ‘To Lydia and her new beginning!’

  ‘To Lydia!’ echoed Colin, smiling.

  It was Friday before she knew it. Samantha texted her at lunchtime, asking if she would like to meet in a pub downtown after work. She accepted immediately. She needed to unwind over a glass of wine.

  The Roundy, a popular bar in the city centre, was crowded with after-work types. The tables outside the bar were full of glamorous women and men in suits, sipping Chardonnay and smoking Marlboro Lights. Samantha had secured a table by the main entrance and was already halfway through a glass of red.

  ‘Lyd!’ She jumped to her feet and hugged her friend. ‘I can’t believe that you’re back. You look so well.’

  They clung to each other for a moment. ‘How are you?’ asked Lydia, pulling free and sitting down.

  ‘Grand. I’m so tired after my week. The exam classes are sucking the marrow from my bones. School is just crazy.’

  ‘Would you like a refill?’ Lydia pulled out her purse.

  ‘No, I’m okay.’

  ‘I’ll just get a drink then.’

  She walked
into the bar and waited at the counter for the barman to notice her. The buzz of conversation was fighting for dominance with the deep bassline of the music.

  ‘Can I help you?’ The barman was in his early thirties and had a cheeky grin.

  ‘A glass of Cab Sav?’

  ‘Sure thing.’ He poured a generous glass of red wine into a huge goblet and took the ten-euro note from her outstretched hand. She sipped as she waited for her change, savouring the taste as it glided down her throat.

  Samantha was texting furiously when she rejoined her at the table.

  ‘It’s the band,’ she explained. ‘They want to know all the names of the wedding party.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Lydia, puzzled.

  ‘They include it in their gig. I suppose it makes it more personal.’