Spin the Bottle

by Monica McInerney

  ‘We thought we’d call them parents’ weekend getaways, directed at local people rather than just tourists,’ Rosie explained, her cheeks flushed. ‘You know, they can come and stay for the weekend, with their kids and all. And then at night, we mind the kids for them and they can go out for the night, into Navan or Dublin. Or I could cook for them here. There’s plenty of room, isn’t there, and it would be much more friendly than a hotel, and the fact we’ve got kids ourselves will help too. I mean, we know ourselves how hard it is to go out sometimes.’

  ‘We might even call them “Save your marriage” weekends,’ Brendan added. ‘What do you think, Lainey? You’re the ideas woman of the family.’

  Lainey lifted her glass of wine in a toast to them both. ‘I think it’s a fantastic idea.’

  Rosie blushed a bright red.

  Lainey spent her final afternoon up on the Hill of Tara on her own, her cheeks red from the cold, her sheepskin coat just managing to keep out the icy wind. The blue skies had disappeared the past few days, the days getting shorter, the first preview of winter. She stood near her favourite spot, looking out over the fields. Mist lay in the distance, while closer by the scenery was soft-edged and shadowy, the colours muted, the sounds low. She was alone, the weather too changeable for tourists today.

  She’d come up to say goodbye, but now the moment had come, she realised there was no need for goodbyes. Not just because she’d be back as soon as she could. She wanted Adam to see it again, at a slower pace this time. In their emails and letters and phone calls over the past few months, they had talked a lot about him returning to Ireland for a proper visit. They had talked about lots of things in the past few months. It had been like a brand-new courtship, a second chance at getting to know one another. It had been even better than the first time.

  Lainey gazed around. She had spent so much time up here over the past months that each mound, each tree, the view from Newgrange to the ruins of Skryne church and all the fields in between, were imprinted in her mind. She had a store of memories to draw on until the next time she was here.

  The day before, she’d gone for a drive to say two particular farewells. First she called in to an office in Dunshaughlin to say goodbye to Mr Fogarty. ‘Thank you for everything, Mr Fogarty. You’ve been lovely to me.’

  ‘It’s been a pleasure, Lainey. A great pleasure.’ Had she really noticed a tear in his little mousy eye?

  Then she called in to say goodbye to Rohan. He was outside painting the porch. ‘Sabine’s coming over this weekend. I thought I’d brighten it up a little for her.’

  ‘It looks great,’ Lainey said.

  ‘Not a patch on what you did at the B&B, of course. May would have been very proud of all you’ve done there, I think.’

  Lainey was moved by the idea. ‘Really?’

  Rohan grinned. ‘Well, she would have told you all the things you’d done wrong. And she would have told lots of other people all the things she thought you’d done wrong as well. But I think deep down she would have been happy.’

  ‘Thanks. I think.’

  ‘And will you tell Brendan to give me a call if he needs any help or wants to have a pint? I’m here for a few more months yet. And I know my mother is still keen to give a hand with any cooking, if Brendan and his wife decide to do any more of those theme weekends. I’d be happy to do more of those tours of Tara, as well.’

  ‘I’ll pass all that on, Rohan. And thanks for all the help you’ve given me, too. And please tell your mother thanks and goodbye again.’ Mrs Hartigan was in London staying with her daughter and Nell for several weeks.

  ‘It’s no problem at all. It’s been good to see you again. Good luck back home if I don’t see you before you go.’ He kissed her on the cheek and she felt absolutely nothing.

  ‘And good luck back in Germany.’

  He smiled. ‘I can’t wait to get back home, between you and me.’

  ‘I know the feeling,’ she said.

  She stayed with Eva and Joseph the night before she flew to Melbourne. They had news for her as well. Joseph’s mother and father, now living in the Clare Valley in South Australia, had invited them out to spend Christmas with them.

  ‘That is brilliant.’ Lainey said. ‘You can come and spend two weeks with me afterwards. Or beforehand. Or…’ she tailed off, smiling sheepishly. ‘Or you can organise yourselves and I’ll be happy to see you whenever it suits you.’

  ‘Thank you, Lainey. We’ll let you know what we decide to do.’ Eva’s voice was solemn but there was a sparkle in her eye.

  There was just time to make a quick call from Dublin airport before she boarded the plane to Melbourne. ‘I’m on my way,’ she said.

  ‘Hurry,’ Adam replied.

  Six months after that

  ‘You see, Adam, it’s really very simple.’ Lainey turned from the kitchen bench and tipped the garlic and onions she had just finished chopping into a frypan. She breathed deeply as they started sizzling on the stove. ‘It’s just a matter of choosing the best ingredients and being well prepared. So watch carefully, won’t you, because quite frankly it’s not often you get to see such a marvellous cook as me in full flight like this.’

  Adam leaned against the kitchen wall, watching her, amused. ‘It’s a privilege, believe me.’ He watched as she added freshly chopped tomatoes, capers and anchovies. ‘It’s a puttanesca sauce, did you say?’

  ‘That’s right. Known for its heat. Puttanesca is Italian for whore. Did you know that? So in fact it’s whore’s pasta.’

  ‘Good heavens. And so will you be adding chilli as well, to give it that heat?’

  ‘Oh, I might and I might not,’ she said airily. ‘Should I?’ she said in a stage whisper.

  He nodded.

  ‘And now, of course, it’s time for my secret ingredient, some chillies.’

  ‘Some? How many exactly?’

  ‘Oh, just a handful,’ she said vaguely.

  ‘A handful? Of whole chillies? Are you sure?’

  He was laughing at her, she realised. She handed the knife over to him. ‘Right, Mr Expert, I hereby hand over all cooking duties to you. I’d hate you to feel I was moving in on your patch, after all.’

  As she moved past, he leaned down and kissed her on the lips. ‘Go and relax, you mad woman.’

  She wandered into the living room looking out through the French windows on to the river. It was a wet Melbourne night, the rain battering down on their small balcony. She could see the lights in the houses across the river. The view was just as good from this second-floor apartment, they’d discovered. When she’d first come back from Ireland she had stayed with Adam in his ground-floor apartment. There’d been several lively discussions about whose apartment they would live in once the tenants had moved out of hers. Then the solution had presented itself. The tenants on the floor between their two apartments had announced they were moving out and Lainey and Adam decided to take over their lease instead. Sometimes she forgot they had moved floors at all – the layout in this apartment was exactly the same as their old ones and their combined furniture had made it instantly homely.

  The phone rang. On the couch, her cat Rex lifted his head at the sound, then shut his eyes again, going back to sleep.

  ‘Lainey, love, how are you? Are you in the middle of anything?’ It was her mother.

  ‘No, we’re just about to have dinner. Are you all right, Ma? Your voice sounds a bit funny. Is Dad okay?’

  ‘Oh, we’re grand. I just wanted to run something past you. You know how Hugh’s graduation ceremony is coming up?’

  Lainey realised then it was laughter that was making her mother’s voice sound strange. ‘Yes, Ma…’

  ‘We’ve had a great idea. Wouldn’t it be funny if we hired some different-coloured wigs, and all turned up to his graduation ceremony wearing them? Your father thinks it would be hilarious. Declan said he’ll only do it if you will. I thought I could call Brendan and Rosie in Ireland, see if they could do the same over there, s
end Hugh a video message. Can’t you just see the twins in funny wigs? What do you think, Lainey? Will we do it?’

  How sad. Her mother had finally gone over the edge. ‘I might just sleep on that one, Ma, if you don’t mind. Goodnight. Love to Dad.’

  She wandered back to the kitchen, where Adam was now stirring the sauce. The rich tomato smell filled the kitchen. Beside him, the pot of water was bubbling, the fresh pasta on the counter beside him ready to be cooked. The radio was playing a pop song, Adam singing along with it. He glanced over at her, winked and kept working.

  Why on earth had she resisted this? she thought for the hundredth time since she’d come back from Ireland. Living with Adam hadn’t been hard, it hadn’t been scary, it had been like falling into a big warm bath. They’d talked more about getting married, even talked about children, agreed they would like to try it all. Not just yet, but some time very soon.

  She was trying hard not to be bossy, not to feel she had to be in charge all the time. She’d slowly discovered it was a matter of making choices. She could choose to be in control, worrying about every detail, wanting to run everything, or she could choose to relax, to take a back seat occasionally. The ideas were still tearing around her mind all the time. It was just that she didn’t have to act on every one of them.

  The new approach was working at Complete Event Management, too. She had made a promise to Adam, and to herself, not to bring work home and not to go into the office on weekends. In return, he had taken on another chef and had two nights off a week. There was another option on the horizon, too. A way to spend more time together. Adam had asked if she wanted to come and work as his manager. Dave had announced he wanted to head off overseas in a few months. She was tempted, and not only because it would mean she might never have to clap eyes on Celia King again. Celia was now second-in-charge at Complete Event Management and taking great pleasure in letting Lainey know it most days. Twenty-four-seven, in fact. So far, in her new tranquil approach to life, it hadn’t bothered Lainey as much as it might have once. But she couldn’t stay tranquil forever. And perhaps it would be better to leave than be caught locking Celia in the stationery cupboard one night. Much more civilised.

  Eva had been amazed when they had all met up over Christmas. ‘Lainey, I can’t believe you’re being so relaxed about this, Adam, work and everything. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say you were just going to see how things went.’

  ‘I’m a new woman, Evie. Well, not new, but a trying-hard woman.’

  She watched Adam again. He was chopping fresh herbs now, the movement swift, skilled. He really did have beautiful hands. Lovely, long fingers. As he turned, she looked at his long legs, the way his jeans fitted him so well. He reached up for wineglasses and his T-shirt lifted, showing an inch or two of brown skin. Her breath caught. A warm glow had started somewhere in her body and it had nothing to do with the thought of a puttanesca sauce.

  ‘Adam…’

  ‘Mmm.’

  ‘You know how we agreed to discuss things whenever either of us gets a good idea?’

  ‘Mmm.’

  ‘I’ve had an idea.’

  ‘Have you? What is it?’

  ‘You know how it’s your night off?’

  ‘Mmm.’

  ‘And we’ve got that lovely new bedroom with that nice view of the river?’

  ‘Mmm.’

  ‘I just wondered if you’d be interested in going in there with me instead of eating dinner.’

  He stopped and turned to her. ‘Oh, I might. What did you have in mind once we got in there?’

  She walked over to him, took the wineglasses from his hand and slowly took off his T-shirt. Then she drew him to her and gave him a long, very slow, sexy kiss. ‘That kind of thing. Only if you’re interested, of course. You know I don’t want to force you into doing anything you don’t want to do.’

  He looked down at her, his expression thoughtful. She could see that his eyes had darkened, were almost black. ‘It’s a very interesting idea, Lainey, thank you for that. It definitely has some merit.’

  ‘So you could be interested?’

  ‘Let me think for a moment.’ He reached behind him and turned off the pasta sauce.

  ‘So is that a yes?’ she asked in a very polite voice.

  ‘It’s a yes.’

  She smiled up at him. She’d hoped it would be.