Take a Look At Me Now

by Anita Notaro

  ‘Mind yourself now and don’t do too much. And call me and keep me up to date. I already love that little place.’

  ‘I know you do. And the customers adore you, from what I saw.’ I threw my arms around her. ‘I’ll never be able to pay you back.’ I buried my head in her cardigan. This time she smelt of vanilla.

  ‘What are family for?’ She stroked my hair as if I were a baby and gently untangled me. ‘I’d better go, otherwise I’ll never get a seat.’ We were at the final carriage.

  ‘Safe journey.’ I tried to get one last sniff of Charlie but he was having none of it.

  ‘Choo-choo!’ he roared and blew on the toy whistle that Orla had nipped out and bought him just before we left.

  ‘Ring me later and let me know how the day finished.’ Aunt Milly blew a kiss and waved frantically as soon as she’d climbed on board.

  ‘Thanks for everything.’ With one final wave I strolled away, trying to look nonchalant, afraid the parting would overwhelm me.

  When I got back to Wicklow the girls were cleaning up, getting ready to close the café. They were all on a high.

  ‘It’s been really good, I think.’ Orla came out of the kitchen and wiped her forehead. ‘Hot but good.’

  ‘Everyone’s been very complimentary about the food,’ Violet said, in an uncharacteristic flush of praise.

  ‘Well, I think we should celebrate,’ I announced just as the front door opened.

  ‘Hi there, any chance of a coffee?’ It was Kevin Daly.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ I asked, my heart speeding up. Orla whipped off her apron, I noticed.

  ‘Had to come and support you on your first day.’ He smiled and handed me a huge bunch of flowers.

  ‘Wow!’ I was surprised. ‘Thanks, they’re lovely.’

  ‘I’ll get you a coffee.’ Violet had noticed him as well, it appeared.

  ‘Sit down, please.’ I indicated a table.

  ‘Sure I’m not too late?’

  ‘Not at all, we’re not closing for another fifteen minutes.’

  ‘Will you join me?’

  ‘Yes, I will. I’d murder a strong latte,’ I told Violet, who was definitely giving him the once-over.

  We chatted about the previous night and he said all the right things and I found myself giggling up at him, most unlike me. He certainly knew how to make a girl feel good.

  ‘Let me take you out to dinner,’ he suggested lazily, as we finished up.

  ‘Me?’ I looked around, pretending to be shocked.

  ‘Yes, you.’ He brushed the tip of my nose with his finger. ‘Who else?’

  ‘Actually, I’ve just . . . sort of invited the girls for a drink,’ I apologized, surprised to find that I was disappointed.

  ‘OK . . . then I’ll take you all out. If that’s all right with you?’

  ‘Yes, great. Give me ten minutes.’ I stood up. ‘Let me just tell the girls and nip upstairs and change.’ I smiled at him.

  ‘You look lovely, Lily, you don’t need to do anything to yourself.’ He smiled a slow smile and my heart sort of missed a beat. Maybe he was just what I needed in my life right now, to banish any lingering foolish thoughts about Richard and me.

  33

  WILLIAM AND BETH

  WILLIAM HAD HAD better days. For a start the hospital resembled a war zone and you’d have needed a 4×4 to negotiate A&E, which unfortunately was right beside one of his rooms. Then a patient who’d undergone routine surgery two days previously had developed a complication and had to be rushed back into theatre. That meant the staff there were grumpy because it was Friday and they now had an unscheduled late finish.

  ‘You’d think it was my fault,’ he mumbled to the little Vietnamese nurse who’d paged him initially about the problem. She ignored him. This only served to irritate him further. She was young and ‘hot’, according to the junior doctors, which was the only reason he’d deigned to make small talk in the first place.

  Another patient, a big burly man in the public hospital, was irritating William that day as well, asking too many questions and querying the need for the course of treatment he was prescribing. Damn the internet, William thought as he listened with a glazed expression to the man’s inner-city monotone voice. William treated him to a barrage of medical jargon, silenced the intern who was trying not to guffaw with a killer look, and hot-footed it to the consultants’ private quarters for a strong cup of coffee. Under normal circumstances William didn’t do caffeine.

  When he made his way into the hospital’s new wing afterwards, it resembled Grafton Street as he knew it on any pre-Christmas weekend. The place was thronged with people of all ages, the only difference being that this crowd were in various stages of undress and a higher percentage were using crutches or wheelchairs. The coffee shops along the main route were full to bursting and the magazine and sweet stalls were under siege as well. William usually loved the buzz, but today he failed to notice the sense of camaraderie that made people here smile more, hold doors open and generally nod encouragingly at complete strangers wheeling drips or clutching plastic bottles of urine disguised as handbags. He knew he had to hang around to check on the patient they’d just opened up for a second time, so he changed and decided to go for a run to work off some of the tension that was building up in his neck and shoulders. Dressed in pristine white to emphasize his tan, he jogged confidently out through the main car park and headed for the coast road. It was a murky November afternoon. A car sailed past, spraying him with dirty water. Two student nurses nearby giggled. William pretended not to notice but all the good was gone out of the run for him. He cut his route short and spent the rest of the time drinking even more coffee, which didn’t help his headache.

  Leaving the hospital several hours later he checked his messages, hoping for a response from Lily. Nothing. She’d told him about the opening of the café when they’d spoken a while back, using it as an excuse not to take him up on his offer of an all-expenses-paid trip to France. She was always pleasant but a bit aloof when they spoke, which meant his plan of making her his mistress was going nowhere fast. Maybe I’m being too subtle, he thought as he purred out into the traffic. When he’d mentioned the trip initially he’d been casual, telling her that it was something Alison had always wanted to do and now he felt that she might enjoy the rest and relaxation, but she’d said straight away that she couldn’t possibly accept such a generous offer. William began by being ultra-cautious – in his position he had to be – but then he’d told her it was a freebie from one of the pharmaceutical companies, lust overriding discretion. That didn’t work either: she simply said she was sure Beth would be thrilled, and thanked him for thinking of her.

  Sighing, he resolved to drop in to the café in Wicklow over the coming weekend. Maybe he’d even bring her champagne to wish her luck. Yes, that was a good plan – he could say he was in the area checking out a site for a new clinic. Turning on Lyric FM and then flicking to Drivetime for the news, William felt in control again. He needed sex, that was it, he thought, becoming aroused while listening to a report on a lapdancing club that had been raided the previous night, releasing a number of near-naked girls on to the streets, according to the outraged resident now being interviewed. Definitely a night for a shower and a large whiskey, he decided as he zapped the electric gates to his home almost an hour later. Maybe sex with Beth too, he thought, fantasizing about the lapdancers.

  William checked his post and wondered why his wife didn’t come to greet him as usual.

  ‘Hello, anyone home?’ he enquired in the general direction of the kitchen as he poured himself a generous measure of Crested Ten.

  His heart sank as he recognized the voice of the Swedish au pair from down the road calling out a greeting in response to his own.

  ‘Oh, hello, Brigitta.’ He headed straight for the ice as he entered the kitchen. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘Mrs Hammond had to go out.’ The blonde student smiled at him as she stirred something that d
idn’t smell at all appetizing. ‘Would you like some meatballs? I make plenty, to leave some for the children’s lunch tomorrow.’

  ‘No, thanks.’ He gulped some of the whiskey, feeling his mood nosedive. ‘Did my wife say where she was going?’

  ‘I think she left you message on your mobile. Out for a Chinese with her girlfriend, I can’t remember name now.’

  ‘Fine, I’ll call her.’

  ‘I’m afraid she forgot her phone.’ Brigitta indicated the gleaming silver object lounging uselessly on the worktop.

  ‘Did she leave any food?’ William was trying hard not to take his irritation out on the young woman.

  ‘Yes, in the bottom oven.’

  He extracted a large plate covered in tinfoil. Underneath the shiny exterior was a congealed mass of food that had been there way too long, if the colour of the broccoli was anything to go by.

  ‘Are the children in bed?’ William tipped the plate into the bin.

  ‘Yes, of course.’ She sounded surprised that he would ask. ‘The food is not good?’ she enquired needlessly as she watched him.

  ‘I’m not hungry.’ He picked up his glass and headed for the comparative safety of the sitting room. His chair was full of newspapers, including today’s Irish Times, with holes in them – Beth was always cutting things out.

  Abruptly, he stood up and headed for the stairs.

  ‘Mr Hammond, now that you are home, it is OK if I leave?’ Brigitta appeared with her plate half empty.

  ‘Actually, I’d rather you stayed in case the children need anything.’ He didn’t even glance in her direction. ‘I’m going to relax in my bedroom.’ He topped up his glass en route.

  An hour later he’d mellowed considerably. On the spur of the moment he dialled Lily’s mobile.

  ‘Hello.’ She sounded like she was in a pub.

  ‘Hi there, it’s William.’

  ‘Oh hello, how are you?’ Was it his imagination or did she sound sorry she’d answered? ‘Just let me move outside, I can hardly hear you,’ she said, cheerfully enough he thought.

  ‘Where are you?’

  ‘I’m having a drink . . . with a friend of mine – Kevin. The café opened today, it went really well.’

  ‘That’s why I was ringing you,’ he said smoothly.

  ‘Why thank you, that’s sweet.’ She sounded young and excited and talking to her while lying on his bed made William horny.

  ‘So, what are your plans for the evening?’ he asked casually.

  ‘We’re going to dinner later. Kevin is insisting I don’t cook,’ she said laughing.

  ‘Great,’ he said falsely. ‘Where?’

  ‘Oh, nowhere special, just a little Italian about a mile outside the town. Have to keep checking the competition, you see.’

  ‘Yes, well, that’s also why I was ringing you.’ William immediately wanted to do better. ‘There’s a new Vietnamese restaurant just opened in the IFSC. Supposed to be amazing. I was just wondering if you’d like to have dinner there next week?’ To hell with the champagne and the casual visit. He wanted to move this relationship on – he’d been lusting after her for long enough.

  ‘What’s the IFSC?’ She sounded hesitant.

  ‘The Financial Services Centre. You know? Along the Liffey near the Customs House?’

  ‘Right, yeah.’

  ‘I’ll ask my driver to collect you, that way you can relax on the journey up.’

  ‘Not at all, don’t be silly . . .’

  ‘I insist,’ he told her. ‘So, just name your night.’

  ‘Em, can I text you? It’s just that . . . my aunt might be coming up and I need to call her first.’

  ‘Fine.’ Now it was his turn to sound distant. ‘I’ll wait to hear from you then.’

  ‘Great. Thanks for the call. I’d better get back inside . . .’

  ‘Enjoy your evening. Bye.’ He clicked off before she could say anything. Time for a new plan, he decided.

  34

  RICHARD AND DAISY

  ‘DAISY, ARE YOU sure you wouldn’t rather wait until the spring?’ Richard asked his girlfriend, who was getting her knickers in a twist because the invitations were going to be late.

  ‘Richard Kearney, are you trying to avoid getting married?’

  Daisy was smiling but not friendly.

  ‘No, I’m not, but you seem to have been in bad form ever since we fixed the date.’ Richard knew he sounded defensive.

  ‘Well, if you’d help out a bit, I wouldn’t be.’ She flounced out of the room. ‘Please OK the wording and the design tonight,’ she called over her shoulder. ‘The printer starts work in the morning. Oh, and have a look at the first draft of the invite list and see what you think.’

  ‘Where did you get these names?’ He glanced at a roll call of every relation he wasn’t even sure he still had, along with a shedload of people he’d never heard of.

  ‘I had lunch with your mother and now I’m meeting Trudy to discuss her dress,’ she called. He only knew she was gone when he heard the door slam.

  ‘Look, mate, you know I’ll be your bleedin’ best man.’ Tom Dalton, fresh from his radio show, plopped two pints down on the counter in Ryan’s a couple of hours later. ‘But, never mind Daisy, are you sure you’re up to having a trouble and strife living with you twenty-four/seven?’

  ‘Don’t be daft. Daisy and I, well, we’re good together.’ Richard scratched his head. ‘Or at least we were.’ He downed a third of the glass in one. ‘But all this is beginning to do my head in. We haven’t even had sex for a week.’

  ‘Well, there’s always whatshername.’ Tom winked. ‘Or is she more choosy than her sister?’ He elbowed his mate in the ribs. ‘Have you seen her at all?’

  ‘Yep, but that never got started, I told you. I was at the opening of her café the other night and I’m calling in for lunch on Saturday but we’re just mates.’

  ‘You’ve never been just mates with a woman under forty in your life.’ Tom diverted a call from his mobile. ‘So when are you going to pick up from where you left off in her flat that night?’

  ‘We’re not. I’m not even sure I want to any more.’

  They both knew it was a porker. Tom guffawed.

  ‘Seriously, there’s something going on there that I’m a bit nervous about. Besides, we’re sort of skirtin’ round each other at the moment . . .’

  ‘It’s called sexual chemistry,’ Tom said sarcastically.

  ‘No, she has some agenda, and I haven’t a clue what it is.’

  Tom downed most of the rest of the glass of beer. ‘So what are you doing still seeing her if that’s the case?’

  ‘I’m not “seeing her” in that sense. I’m just giving her a bit of advice, until she gets the place up and running.’ Richard shrugged. ‘Maybe out of loyalty to Alison, maybe ’cause I feel sorry for her, I’m not sure.’

  ‘Or maybe ’cause you’d really like to give her one.’

  Tom was all ‘nudge nudge, wink wink’ and it irritated Richard, but then everything did these days, it seemed.

  ‘Twin sisters an’ all that.’ Tom sucked in his breath.

  ‘Jesus, one’s dead.’ Richard laughed. ‘And while the other one is very attractive, I’ll admit—’

  ‘That’s it. Call the fucking wedding off until you’ve had time to think, mate. Same again?’

  ‘No, it’s my twist.’ Richard signalled the barman for two replacements. ‘The thing is, I do love Daisy, she’s a great girl. And besides, I’ve never been good at fucking around, not like you, you stallion.’

  Tom pretended to choke on his pint. ‘So what was the thing with the hooker then?’

  ‘You know what I mean.’ Richard was pissed off with the turn this was taking.

  ‘Besides, if you do get married, what about kids? Are you absolutely sure she’s not gonna want them in a year or two?’

  ‘We’ve never really discussed it in detail.’ Richard only realized it as he said it out loud. ‘But Daisy will go along wit
h whatever I want.’

  ‘She does know, doesn’t she?’ Tom was incredulous.

  ‘Of course she bleedin’ well knows.’ Richard stood up and fished out a twenty from his jeans pocket. ‘So she’s definitely not envisaging The Brady Bunch.’

  ‘You never know, she could be thinking of a reversal . . .’ Tom made a scissors motion with his fingers.

  ‘Listen, let’s talk about something else, OK? I’ve had enough bleedin’ chat about women and weddings to last me a lifetime. Just keep New Year’s Eve free and give me your measurements for the suit.’ He plonked back down and grinned. ‘And when Daisy phones you tomorrow for a rant about what an arsehole I am, put in a good word for me, eh?’

  ‘Will do.’

  Richard was in bed when Daisy came home. ‘Are you awake?’ She ran her hand up the outside of his thigh.

  ‘I thought you were staying at your own house tonight?’ He twisted himself around to face her sleepily.

  ‘I thought you might miss me.’ She kissed him hungrily. ‘You were so grumpy earlier that I suspected you might need to do some unwinding.’ She climbed on top of him and he could see she was wearing a black lace plunge bra and matching thong.

  ‘I was grumpy?’ He flicked her over and began to kiss her neck and shoulders. ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘Yes, you were, admit it.’

  ‘Was not.’ He moved his tongue down slowly.

  ‘Did you do the invites thing?’

  ‘Hmmm?’ He pretended not to hear. ‘Relax, babe, you’re too uptight. I intend taking your mind off everything except me for the next half-hour.’

  ‘I am not uptight.’ She yanked herself into a sitting position and nearly broke his nose in the process. ‘That’s typical of you to blame me. I’m the one putting all the effort into this wedding, you know.’

  ‘Fucking hell, Daisy, relax, will you?’ Richard could feel a headache coming on. He knew he shouldn’t have had that whiskey at the end of the night.

  ‘No, I will not relax.’ She jumped out of bed. ‘I’m sick of you telling me to relax, chill out, stay cool. And as for you, any more laid-back and you’d be laid out – in a coffin.’ She grabbed her robe. ‘I’m sleeping in the spare room until you apologize. And if you’re not careful there won’t be any wedding.’