Some Girls Do

by Murphy, Clodagh

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Oh, I thought … Anyway, I just came to invite you over for a drink. Um … both of you. We’re down there, third on the right.’ She waved in the direction she had come.

  ‘Thanks,’ Luca said.

  ‘Just drop over whenever you like.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Claire smiled, ‘but I think we’re going to have an early night.’ She took Luca’s hand in both hers, turning it over and stroking the palm, playing with the soft pads of his fingers. ‘Aren’t we?’

  ‘Um … yeah,’ he said uncertainly, frowning down at their hands. ‘Thanks anyway,’ he looked up at Aideen and smiled.

  ‘Okay. Some other time maybe.’ She turned to go.

  Luca went to withdraw his hand as Aideen walked away, but Claire held on to it, intertwining her fingers with his.

  ‘Claire …’

  Still holding his hand, she leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth, willing him to meet her halfway. She hardly knew what she was doing, acting purely on instinct. She just knew she didn’t want him to be with that girl – or any girl except her. She kissed the other side of his mouth coaxingly.

  ‘Claire … stop.’ He looked cross as he snatched his hand away. He stood abruptly, collecting the empty dishes from the table, and stomped into the caravan.

  Claire gathered up the glasses and empty wine bottle and followed him. He was throwing the dishes into the sink with a clatter, his back rigid with tension as he leaned on the counter. She dumped the glasses on the table and went over to him.

  ‘Luca.’ She put a hand on his shoulder and when he turned to face her, she swooped in and kissed him again. His lips were firm, and tasted fresh and briny, like the sea. But they were unyielding, and then he was pushing her away.

  ‘Jesus, Claire, give me a break!’ he yelled, as he held her at arm’s length.

  She flinched at the harshness of his tone.

  ‘Sorry.’ He released her and raked a hand through his hair. ‘But I’m trying to be a friend here, and you’re not making it easy. You said you don’t want us to be … together that way any more so I’ve kept my distance. You wanted me to keep my hands to myself, and I have. But you can’t keep doing this. I don’t know what you want from me.’

  ‘I want this,’ she said, putting her hand on the back of his neck and pulling his face down.

  He leaned his forehead against hers, resisting the pressure of her hand urging him to go the last couple of centimetres. ‘No,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘You don’t.’

  ‘I’ve changed my mind.’ She kissed him again pleadingly, and she felt him start to respond, but he wrenched his lips away.

  ‘Don’t,’ he breathed against her mouth. ‘Look, if this is about that Aideen girl, I told you—’

  ‘It isn’t. It’s about you and me.’ She kissed him again, encouraged because he didn’t push her away this time. She sensed him weakening. ‘Please,’ she whimpered, running her tongue along his bottom lip, hearing his sharp intake of breath. ‘I want you.’ She took his hand and clamped it against her breast. ‘And if you want me to tell you in detail – I want you inside me, I want—’

  ‘Christ, I want you too,’ he groaned, wrapping his arms around her, and then he was kissing her back hungrily, desperately, angling his head this way and that. She felt a triumphant thrill as his tongue slid into her mouth.

  He pulled back just enough to speak. ‘Are you sure?’ he asked, his breath hot on her lips, his dark eyes burning into hers. ‘Do you really want this?’

  She nodded frantically and he buried his head in her neck, placing soft open-mouthed kisses along her throat before returning to her mouth. Then he picked her up, her legs wrapped around him, and carried her to the bedroom, not breaking the kiss. They fell onto the bed in a tangle of legs and arms and tongues.

  Claire woke the next morning her limbs knotted around Luca’s, the heat of his skin against hers. He was still fast asleep – not surprisingly, since they had made love half the night, first frantically, and then more slowly, Luca kissing and touching her with infinite tenderness, almost reverence. They had looked into each other’s eyes the whole time, and it had felt so loving that she still felt cocooned in the warmth of the afterglow.

  She propped herself up on an elbow and watched Luca sleeping. He was so beautiful. She dropped little butterfly kisses on his shoulder and neck, the corner of his mouth, half hoping he would wake up and they could do it again. He stirred, his eyelids fluttering, but then he settled again, his breathing returning to a calm, steady rhythm.

  Eventually she got restless and uncomfortably hot lying tangled up with him. So she extricated herself and slid out of bed. She pulled on some clothes and tiptoed into the living area. When she had put the coffee on and heated the grill to make toast, she grabbed her laptop and sat down at the table with it while she waited for the coffee to brew. After checking her emails and having a quick look at Twitter and Facebook, she opened the word processor and pulled up the draft she had written for a possible final blog post and read over it. Weekends I’m In Love – she felt a world away now from the person who had thought that might come true. She would have to come up with a different ending for NiceGirl. Of course, it didn’t have to be true – why break the habit of a lifetime? – but this felt all wrong. Besides, it was so obviously about Mark that it would give him the wrong idea. No, NiceGirl would need a different kind of happy-ever-after. Maybe she’d leave it open-ended, with NiceGirl still searching for her Mr Right. Or maybe she had already found him, she thought, glancing towards the bedroom – albeit a reluctant Mr Right.

  The coffee pot bubbled and hissed to its finale, and she had just got up to make toast when her mobile rang. She grabbed it and went outside, not wanting to wake Luca. Her heart sank a little when she saw that Mark was calling, and she hesitated a moment before picking up. She knew she needed to talk to him, to break up with him, but she didn’t feel ready to have that conversation yet. She didn’t have much experience with that sort of thing, and she needed more time to think about what she would say. In the end, she hesitated so long that the phone rang out, and the missed-call alert flashed up on the screen. She rang him back straight away.

  ‘Hi, Mark,’ she said, trying to inject some enthusiasm into her voice. ‘Sorry, I didn’t get to my phone in time just then.’

  ‘Hi. How are you?’

  ‘I’m okay.’

  ‘Listen, the thing is I’m at the airport. I’m flying over to Dublin. So can I come and see you later?’

  ‘Oh! You’re coming here?’

  ‘Yeah. Look, I think we need to talk and it’s not really a conversation I want to have over the phone.’ He sighed. ‘Emma told me you were asking her about me and Sophie – except she didn’t know it was you, of course.’

  ‘Oh … yeah.’ Claire felt guilty for going behind his back. ‘Sorry about that.’

  ‘It’s okay. I mean, I wish you’d just asked me, but I can understand why you didn’t.’ He sighed. ‘Nothing happened but … I’d really like to talk to you face to face. Can I come round? Or meet you somewhere? I’ll be in Dublin in about an hour and a half.’

  ‘The thing is I’m not at home at the moment.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Yeah, I’m in Wicklow. I came to the beach for the weekend. With a … friend.’

  ‘Damn.’ He laughed softly. ‘I thought I’d surprise you. Stupid idea. I have to get back for work stuff tomorrow, so I have an early flight in the morning.’

  ‘Well, I’m going home today anyway – back to work tomorrow. I could meet you later.’

  ‘Great. I’m staying at the Merrion. Ring me when you’re home and we’ll arrange it then.’

  ‘Okay. Talk to you later.’

  Luca woke up with a smile on his face, automatically reaching out for Claire, and disappointed to find her not there. He sank back against the pillows, feeling rather pleased with himself as images from the previous night flashed through his mind. He didn’t have any regrets about
it and he didn’t think Claire would either. There hadn’t been a glimmer of hesitation or uncertainty about the way she had made love with him. He knew she had wanted him every bit as much as he wanted her, matching his passion and desire kiss for kiss and touch for touch. He’d almost told her last night – he’d almost said the words when she was lying beneath him and he was moving inside her. He’d chickened out in the end. But he would tell her later, he decided, feeling giddy and loved-up as he got out of bed, pulled on some clothes and went in search of Claire. He was in love, Mark was toast, and all was right with the world.

  He heard her voice outside when he walked into the living area. Looking out of the window, he saw her talking on her mobile. She was so gorgeous. After they’d had some breakfast, he’d persuade her to come back to bed for the rest of the day. Sod the beautiful weather.

  There was hot coffee in the pot and he poured himself a mug and sat at the table. As he pushed Claire’s laptop aside, his fingers brushed against the mouse and the screen lit up. His eyes drifted idly over the open document that appeared, and then he froze, his mug halfway to his lips, as the words sank in. He pulled the laptop towards him and read it through again carefully, this time letting the full meaning of it hit home.

  She’d got out of bed with him this morning and written this! God, what an idiot he’d been to think anything had changed. But what the fuck did he expect? He had only himself to blame. He knew she wanted to be with Mark – that was the beginning and end of what their whole relationship had been about. How could he have forgotten? She’d told him she just wanted to be friends. She mustn’t have been thinking straight when she’d said all those things – and he’d been thinking with his dick. She’d just wanted a warm body, and he was there when Mark wasn’t. He should have stood his ground, turned her down.

  But what difference would it have made? Would this be any easier if there hadn’t been that last time? He was being ridiculous, he told himself, getting pissy because a gorgeous girl had fucked him senseless. He needed to get some perspective. There were worse things than being used for sex … by the girl you loved. It just didn’t seem like it right now.

  He jumped up guiltily as Claire came in from outside, pushing the laptop away from him.

  ‘Hi.’ She smiled as she crossed to the table. He was relieved that she didn’t seem to have noticed the laptop and the screen had gone to sleep again. ‘I was about to make toast when Mark rang,’ she said, fiddling with the grill. ‘Do you want some?’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  ‘So – that was Mark. He’s on his way over to see me.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Yeah. I thought we’d spend most of the day down here and go home in the evening, but I think we’d better leave this morning instead. He’s only here for the day, and I’ve to sort out clothes for work tomorrow. Sorry. Do you mind?’

  ‘No.’ He shook his head dazedly.

  ‘I really need to see him, especially after …’ She trailed off, her eyes drifting to the bedroom.

  Shit! So much for her not feeling any regret. Mr Right snapped his fingers and she went running to … what? Confess all and beg his forgiveness? Pretend it had never happened and bury her dirty little secret for ever?

  ‘Look, I’m sorry about last night,’ he said.

  ‘You are?’

  ‘Yeah – I mean, about crossing the friends boundary.’

  ‘Well, it wasn’t exactly your fault. I practically begged you.’

  ‘Whatever. Anyway, no harm done, is there? I mean, you don’t have to tell Mark about it.’

  ‘No, but I—’ She stopped abruptly, biting her lip. ‘No, I suppose I don’t,’ she finished.

  ‘You’re upset, you’re not yourself. I think you’re allowed a mistake in the circumstances.’

  ‘A mistake. Right.’

  ‘I’ll pack up my stuff,’ he said, getting up and heading for the bedroom, ‘so I’ll be ready to go whenever you want.’

  ‘There’s no hurry,’ she called after him. ‘Come and have your toast.’

  ‘Wouldn’t want to keep Mr Fucking Right waiting,’ he mumbled angrily to himself, as he balled up his clothes and stuffed them into a bag.

  Claire was a bundle of nerves as she made her way to the Merrion Hotel that evening. Luca had been quiet and subdued on the drive home from Brittas, and it had put her on edge. He seemed down, and even though he was perfectly civil, she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was pissed off with her. When she’d dropped him off at his door, he’d kissed her cheek and thanked her for a lovely weekend, but he still seemed distant, and she’d wondered if he was deliberately trying to keep her at arm’s length. Had he guessed how she felt about him last night? Was he being aloof on purpose to remind her that it was just a casual thing and didn’t mean anything? She had already decided not to mention that she was breaking up with Mark in case Luca freaked out, thinking she had read too much into last night and was doing it so she could be with him.

  The whole thing was nerve-racking, and now she had the ordeal of dumping Mark to go through as well. She wished he had cheated with Sophie, so she would have the perfect reason to dump him – no explanations necessary.

  She found Mark waiting for her in the lounge. She was struck again by how good-looking he was – and how unaffected she was by him.

  ‘Hi.’ He kissed her cheek and hugged her. ‘How are you?’ he asked.

  ‘I’m okay. Good days and bad days.’

  He nodded. ‘I’m really sorry again about your mum.’

  ‘Thanks,’ she said, as he released her and they sat side by side on the sofa. ‘And thank you for the flowers.’

  A waitress came and they ordered tea. ‘So,’ Mark said, when it had been served, ‘I take it you saw some stuff on Twitter about Patrick’s party.’

  ‘Yeah,’ she said cautiously.

  ‘I wanted to talk to you. I mean, I wasn’t hiding anything. I rang you the next day, but then you told me about your mother …’ He shrugged. ‘And then it never felt like the right time to bring it up.’

  ‘I hadn’t seen any of it at that stage anyway. I hadn’t been on Twitter.’

  ‘I thought you probably hadn’t. So then I thought it would all just blow over and there was no need to upset you with it.’

  ‘You didn’t think I had a right to know?’

  ‘Know what?’ he asked. ‘Nothing happened. It was a lot of idle gossip.’

  Claire raised a sceptical eyebrow. ‘Nothing happened?’

  He looked at her silently as if weighing something up. Then he seemed to come to a decision. ‘Okay.’ He sighed. ‘Full disclosure. We kissed. But that’s all, I promise. It was a mistake, and I’m sorry. Sophie and I have this … thing. I suppose it was unfinished business, but it won’t happen again.’

  ‘Sophie seemed to be reading an awful lot into a kiss.’

  ‘That’s just Sophie.’

  ‘And what about New York?’

  ‘Look, I won’t lie – she made it clear she wants us to get back together. But nothing happened, I promise.’ He took her hand. ‘So, can you forgive me?’ he asked, looking earnestly into her eyes.

  She took a deep breath. ‘I forgive you, but—’

  ‘Thank Christ for that,’ he said, putting an arm around her. ‘Because I really don’t want to lose you.’

  She wriggled out of his embrace. ‘I hadn’t finished. I said I forgive you, Mark,’ she said, looking down at her hands, ‘but that doesn’t mean I want to be with you.’

  ‘You don’t think you can trust me,’ he said. ‘But Sophie and I are over, I swear.’

  ‘I don’t think you’ll ever be over, not really. You love her, don’t you?’

  ‘No, I—’

  ‘You may not want to,’ she continued, as he shook his head, ‘but I think you do. Whether you do something about it or not, she’ll always be there, and anyone else is going to feel like second best. And no one should settle for second best.’

  He looked at her in si
lence, his expression anguished and confused, as if he was going through some sort of internal struggle.

  ‘Oh, fuck.’ He huffed out a breath, propping his forehead on the heel of his hand. ‘I do love her, don’t I?’ He peered up at Claire from beneath his lashes.

  ‘Yeah, you do.’ She laughed wryly. ‘Tough luck!’

  He smiled at her fondly. ‘You don’t hate me?’

  ‘No, I don’t hate you. Full disclosure – you got lucky. Because I’m in love with someone else too, as it happens.’

  ‘Well, I hope he’s a better prospect than Sophie, whoever he is.’

  ‘Not really. He’s not into anything serious.’

  ‘God, why can’t we just be in love with each other? We’d be great together,’ he observed.

  ‘I know! We’re perfect on paper.’

  ‘We’re both nice, we both want commitment …’

  ‘At least you know Sophie wants to be with you.’

  ‘Yes, but she’s such a pain in the arse.’ They laughed.

  ‘Luca’s lovely. But he’d run a mile if he knew I wanted to be his girlfriend.’

  ‘Christ! What a pair. Are you sure we can’t make this work?’ He grinned, waving his hand between them.

  ‘Hmm, maybe I was a bit hasty,’ she joked.

  ‘Seriously, Claire,’ he said, being serious. ‘I think we could have had something.’

  ‘Yeah,’ she said sadly. ‘I think you’re probably right.’ Maybe if she hadn’t known Luca, if he didn’t have Sophie … She took a sip of her tea. ‘Um, Mark … can I ask you something?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Are you still going to publish my book?’

  He threw back his head and laughed. ‘Of course I’m still going to publish your book. And I’m still waiting to read your novel too.’

  ‘Right. Great.’

  ‘Well, good luck with your chap,’ he said, raising his teacup to hers.

  ‘Good luck to both of us!’ She clinked her cup against his. ‘I think we’re going to need it.’

  A week later, Claire still hadn’t seen or heard from Luca, and with every day that passed, she became more anxious. She didn’t want to race around and tell him she had broken up with Mark in case it freaked him out. But she was terrified he’d be off banging some other girl if she left it too long.