Some Girls Do

by Murphy, Clodagh

  ‘Where it will meet the same fate as that cheese,’ he said, smiling fondly at her.

  ‘How long is Claire in London for?’ she asked.

  ‘Just the weekend,’ he said.

  ‘You must miss her a lot,’ Ali said, clearly fishing.

  ‘Ali,’ he said gently, ‘it’s not what you think – me and Claire. We’re just friends.’

  ‘Since when do you have women friends?’

  ‘I have plenty of women friends.’

  ‘Women friends you sleep with on a regular basis?’

  ‘There’s a first time for everything. Anyway, you don’t know what we do.’

  ‘You’re not seriously trying to tell me you’re not sleeping with Claire?’

  ‘I’m trying to tell you that it’s none of your business.’

  ‘So you admit that you are!’ Ali’s eyes lit up with delight.

  They were interrupted by the waiter arriving with their starters.

  ‘So, are you friends with benefits? Booty-call buddies?’ she asked, diving into her smoked salmon. ‘How would you describe your relationship?’

  ‘I wouldn’t,’ he said implacably, as he picked up his spoon and started on his soup.

  ‘You’re no fun,’ she said crossly.

  ‘But in answer to your question—’

  ‘Yes?’ Ali sat up eagerly.

  ‘I do miss her.’

  Ali grinned happily.

  ‘As a friend,’ he added. ‘We’re just friends, Ali.’

  Ali gave him a doubtful look. ‘I’ve seen you with her, remember? You know what I think?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I think you’re in love.’

  ‘No, I’m not. Don’t be stupid,’ he snapped.

  ‘Hey, don’t look so scared,’ she said, covering his hand with hers. ‘I think she feels the same way about you.’

  Luca considered telling Ali that Claire was in London with another man and putting paid to any romantic notions she had about them. But if she was convinced he was in love with Claire, she would only worry and feel sad for him so he said nothing. He knew how badly Ali needed him to be happy because if he wasn’t, she felt it was her fault – their mother had seen to that when she had written her book.

  He knew it wasn’t intentional, but in describing the circumstances of their adoption – Ali’s inconsolable grief at being separated from him, how she had screamed and clung to him when they had tried to take her away – Jacqueline had cast Ali as the architect of his unhappiness, burdening her with the responsibility for the course his life had taken.

  ‘So what about you?’ he asked, to change the subject, when their mains were served. ‘Any special someone in your life?’

  ‘Ugh! I’m not discussing my love life with my brother.’

  ‘Ha, you can dish it out, but you can’t take it.’

  ‘Shut up and eat your vegetables.’

  After spending the day with Mark’s friends at the picnic, Claire was relieved to be alone with him on the drive to the airport – not that she didn’t like them, but she found it a strain spending a lot of time with a group of people she didn’t know and was glad when they could finally get away. Besides, she had found Sophie’s constant clamouring for attention exhausting – especially when so much of it was directed at Mark. All morning Sophie had gone out of her way to make a point of how long she had been a part of Mark’s life, constantly reminiscing about places they’d been, meals they’d shared, mutual friends they’d lost touch with, and Claire had no doubt it was all aimed at unsettling her. But though she found it wearisome, she couldn’t bring herself to resent Sophie – not when she remembered what she’d said last night about Mark: He’s all there is. When she felt like that about him, who could blame her for putting up a fight?

  ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘That was a baptism of fire. I hope it hasn’t put you off ever coming back.’

  ‘No. I had a really nice time. Thank you.’

  ‘Good. I know Sophie can be a pain in the arse – but she’s going through a tough time at the moment.’

  ‘I know. She seemed nice, really.’

  He smiled at her. ‘You’re very sweet.’

  Sweet. Claire felt a little knocked off balance by that. She wasn’t sure it was a good thing that he found her ‘sweet’. He’d said it before, and it sounded like a compliment, but she couldn’t help feeling patronised. Besides, she wasn’t sure ‘sweet’ was really his thing. It wasn’t a word anyone would ever associate with Sophie, for instance, and although they weren’t together any more, he obviously still liked her a lot. He might not realise it, but he lit up like a struck match whenever she was around. She seemed like a take-no-prisoners kind of girl, and Claire got the impression men found her challenging and exciting in equal measures. She was ballsy, blunt and upfront about what she wanted, and she was more like NiceGirl than Claire would ever be. Mark had told Claire the first time they’d met that she was very different from what he’d expected. Maybe he’d thought she’d be more like Sophie.

  ‘You’re very quiet,’ Mark broke into her thoughts. ‘You okay?’

  ‘Yes, fine. I’m just tired.’

  He went into the airport with her and waited while she checked in, then walked with her to the security area and gave her a lingering goodbye kiss.

  ‘Thanks again,’ Claire said. ‘I had a lovely time.’

  ‘I’ll call you from New York. And I’ll get over to Dublin as soon as I can after I get back.’

  ‘That’d be great. Well, I’d better go.’ She gave him another quick kiss before turning to go through security.

  Claire rang Luca in the cab from the airport. She was anxious to speak to him. He’d said they’d still be friends, but she was worried they might drift apart and she wanted to make sure that didn’t happen.

  ‘Hey, sweetheart.’ She was instantly reassured by the warmth in his voice. He was her friend, she thought, and that wasn’t going to change.

  ‘Can I come round tomorrow night after work?’ she asked. ‘If you’re not busy, that is.’

  ‘Yeah, of course. How was your weekend?’

  ‘Great. It was really nice. But I’ll tell you about it when I see you.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘I’m in a taxi, and I’m almost home, so I’d better go. But I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  ‘Can’t wait.’

  The following evening Luca felt unaccountably nervous as he waited for Claire to arrive. He was looking forward to seeing her, yet there was a strange feeling of dread in his gut at the same time. What was that about?

  When he opened the door and found her standing on the step, laden with carrier bags as usual, any worrying feelings he had melted away and he was just happy to see her.

  ‘Claire!’ He pulled her into a hug, then ushered her in. ‘You look great!’

  He took some of her bags from her as they headed for the stairs. ‘You’ll have to stop doing this,’ he said, nodding to the bags.

  ‘It’s nothing much,’ she said shyly.

  In the flat, she dumped a couple of the bags by the sofa, then went to the kitchen to help Luca unpack the rest.

  ‘Mm, airport goodies,’ he said, as he unloaded smoked salmon, Toblerone, red wine and champagne. ‘Are we having a celebration?’

  ‘Well, I thought we could have a sort of graduation ceremony,’ Claire said, taking out the champagne. ‘I bought this on the way over, so it’s already cold.’

  ‘Great.’ Luca got glasses out of the cupboard and Claire opened the champagne with a loud pop. She poured slowly, giving the bubbles time to subside.

  ‘Cheers!’ Luca clinked his glass against hers. Then they went into the living room and sat on the sofa.

  ‘These are for you,’ she said, picking up the bags beside her and passing them to him. ‘Sorry they’re not wrapped.’

  ‘What’s all this?’ He took them from her.

  ‘It’s just a present, for being such a good teacher.’

  ‘Claire, you shoul
dn’t be spending your money on me.’

  ‘It’s not much.’

  He pulled two T-shirts from the first bag, unfolding them and holding them up. ‘These are great – I love them.’ The other bag had a large shoebox containing a pair of heavy boots. He smiled, brought back to the night he had met Claire. They were similar to the ones he had been wearing then, except these were in one piece. It was such a thoughtful present.

  ‘Not very exciting, I’m afraid.’

  ‘They’re brilliant. Thank you.’

  ‘I hope I got the size right,’ she said.

  He turned them over. ‘Yep, perfect. You shouldn’t have, but thank you.’ He leaned over and gave her a quick kiss. Her lips were cool and tasted of champagne.

  ‘You look tired,’ she said.

  ‘Yeah, I am.’ He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes.

  ‘Not getting much sleep by the look of things.’

  ‘No, I’ve been working a lot.’

  ‘Is that all?’ Was it his imagination or did she seem cheered by this?

  ‘Yeah, that’s pretty much all I’ve been doing lately. The painting’s been going really well. I’m working on stuff for my show.’

  ‘That’s good. I heard you went to Mum’s card game on Friday.’

  ‘Yeah. I cleaned up – did she tell you? Came away with sixty cents.’

  ‘Whoa! If you keep that up, you’ll be able to give up painting and become a professional gambler.’

  ‘I’m planning to build up to a whole euro next time.’

  ‘Did you do anything else at the weekend?’

  ‘Just went out for dinner with Ali yesterday. Otherwise I’ve been living like a hermit.’ He took a gulp of champagne. ‘So, tell me all about your weekend,’ he said. He knew he had to ask, but he felt as if the words were being dragged from him.

  ‘It was good. We spent a lot of time with Mark’s friends, and they were all really nice. And he said maybe we could go to New York together some time.’

  ‘And did your lessons come in handy?’ Fuck! Why the hell had he asked that? Now she’d tell him, and he really didn’t want to know. Please don’t go into details. The idea of hearing about what she and Mark had got up to made him feel sick.

  ‘Yes, they were very useful. I was a credit to my teacher. You’d have been so proud of me.’

  ‘Great.’

  ‘One lesson in particular,’ she continued.

  ‘Well – glad I could be of help.’ He drained his glass. ‘Top-up?’ he asked, reaching for hers.

  ‘No, thanks.’ Her glass was still half full. Luca poured himself some more. ‘I mean, before I’d probably just have gone along with having sex because I’d have been too embarrassed to say I didn’t want it—’

  Luca froze. ‘Wait. You didn’t have sex with him?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You mean … on the first night?’

  ‘All weekend. And it wasn’t because I was scared or didn’t think I could give him a killer blowjob. I just didn’t feel right about it so …’

  The relief hit him like a cartoon wrecking ball, ludicrous and shocking, and he almost laughed out loud with the surprise of it, coupled with the sudden, alarming recognition – so that’s how I feel. Ali was right.

  ‘That’s brilliant!’ He grinned. She frowned at him. ‘I mean it’s great that you spoke up for yourself and took control,’ he amended hastily.

  ‘Yeah, it felt good. And it’s all thanks to you.’ She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek, but as she made to pull away, he put a hand on the side of her face and kissed her properly. It felt so good to be kissing her again. To think he’d almost lost her because he’d been too stupid to recognise his own feelings. He reached to pull her closer, but Claire was pushing him away.

  ‘I can’t,’ she said shakily.

  ‘Hey, what’s wrong?’ he asked, smoothing a lock of hair behind her ear.

  ‘I can’t … do this. I can’t be like this with you any more.’

  Luca frowned, trying to digest this. ‘Oh.’

  ‘I thought we’d … I mean, I’m with Mark now. It would be cheating.’

  ‘Right.’ He sat up and edged away from her a little. ‘But you said you didn’t sleep with him.’

  ‘No, I didn’t – because I wasn’t ready. I would have been doing it to please him, or because I felt too awkward turning him down. But I will, when the time is right – on my terms, like you taught me.’

  ‘Oh, right. Sorry, I thought …’ He shook his head. Shit! He’d finally woken up and realised how he felt about her, and it was too late. He wanted to howl at the unfairness of it.

  ‘No, I’m sorry. I should have been more clear …’

  ‘No harm done,’ he said briskly. ‘Probably just as well anyway.’ He poured the last of the champagne into both their glasses. ‘I really should get back to work.’

  ‘Oh. I thought maybe we could have something to eat …’

  She looked so disappointed, he felt like a shit, but he just wanted to get her out as quickly as possible and be on his own to try to absorb what had just happened. His head was reeling and he needed to be alone. Besides, he couldn’t guarantee that he wouldn’t burst into tears. ‘Sorry. Some other time, yeah?’

  ‘Um … yeah, sure.’ She gave him a smile and drained her glass. ‘Well, I suppose I should go, then.’ She stood.

  ‘Thanks again for the presents,’ Luca said as he saw her to the door.

  ‘It’s nothing. Well, bye.’ She was about to go, when she turned back in the doorway. ‘Luca, we’re still friends, right?’ she asked, grabbing his hand.

  ‘Yeah, of course!’ He looked down at her hand in his, his thumb stroking over her fingers. ‘I just – I don’t know how good I’m going to be at this friends thing, okay?’

  ‘But you’ll try? I really don’t want to lose you.’

  He sighed heavily. ‘Yeah, sure. I’ll try.’

  Chapter Thirty

  The next day Luca tried to throw himself into his work, but he spent most of the time standing pointlessly in front of the canvas, utterly uninspired and unable to focus. Falling in love sucked. Why were people always writing songs about it and going on as if it was so great? It was horrible, and he’d never felt so miserable in his life. He’d thought he could lose himself in his painting, but he wasn’t even able to do that.

  He tossed down his brush in frustration. This had felt so futile lately, like he was bashing his head off a brick wall. He knew he was good, it wasn’t that. He had no insecurities about his art, no real doubts about his ability. But he also knew that talent was no guarantee of success or even recognition – either critically or commercially. Sometimes it seemed completely arbitrary, and it was incredibly frustrating to see all the money and acclaim lavished on artists who weren’t half as good as he was.

  Maybe he should pack it in and get a real job. He’d never cared about materialistic stuff before. He had been content making art that satisfied his own creative objectives, and was prepared to live with the consequences. But the trouble with wanting Claire was that it made him want all this other stuff too. He had never been bothered about being the kind of guy who could show a girl a good time or provide her with creature comforts. Claire made him want to be that guy. He wanted to be someone she could depend on – someone who could make her life easier, instead of being another drain on her energy and resources. He wanted to be able to do nice things for her – take her to New York and buy her presents. In short, he wanted to be bloody Mark.

  In the days afterwards, Claire felt adrift. Despite his assurances that they would still be friends, she felt that Luca was distancing himself from her. By the following Monday, she hadn’t heard from him for a week. She told herself that he was probably just concentrating on his work, but she couldn’t help wondering what else he might be doing. When Yvonne talked about a party she’d gone to at the weekend, Claire asked casually who’d been there in the hope that she would mention Luca, but she didn’t.
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  ‘But what’s happened to you?’ Yvonne asked sharply, peering into her face. ‘You’ve lost that glow. You look all lacklustre and— Oh, my God! You’re not doing it any more.’

  ‘No,’ Claire admitted, with a wan smile, ‘I’m not.’

  ‘But what about the guy in London?’

  ‘Well, first we were doing the five-date rule, and then—’

  ‘I should never have told you about that stupid rule,’ Yvonne interrupted. ‘It’s not for everyone, you know. And it obviously doesn’t agree with you. Anyway, it doesn’t work for long-distance relationships – you don’t see each other often enough. You could be a hundred before you’d get a shag.’

  ‘Well, now he’s in London and I’m here, and he’s going to New York next week …’

  ‘Well, hop on the minute he gets back. And in the meantime you’ve always got Luca.’

  Claire shook her head. ‘Luca and I aren’t a … thing now.’

  ‘Oh,’ Yvonne said, apparently unsurprised. ‘I guess having a regular fuck buddy would be too much of a commitment for him.’

  Claire wanted to spring to Luca’s defence, but she had a feeling Yvonne might be right.

  Luca wasn’t the only one Claire was fretting about. She was also anxious about what Mark did when she wasn’t with him. Though they had spoken almost daily on the phone since she’d got back, it had done nothing to put her mind at rest, and when she asked him what he was doing in the evening, she was always on full alert for any mention of Sophie. She thought she trusted Mark, but she still felt insecure at the thought of him spending time around Sophie, even if it was in a group.

  ‘So, what are you up to tonight?’ she asked, when he called her on Tuesday.

  ‘Oh, nothing much. Just having a quiet night in with Millie. I have a lot of reading to catch up on.’

  ‘Anything else planned for the week?’

  ‘Well … it’s Patrick’s birthday on Thursday, so we’re going out for that.’

  Had she imagined it or was there a cautious note in his voice?

  ‘We?’

  ‘Yeah, everyone – the usual suspects.’