Take a Look At Me Now

by Anita Notaro

  35

  LILY

  I FELT AS if I’d never get a proper night’s sleep again and the fact that it was all down to too much sex was of little comfort when my alarm went off each morning at five thirty.

  ‘Come back to bed, let the girls do the work for once,’ a sleepy voice pleaded from under the duvet.

  ‘I wish I could.’

  ‘You can, you’re the boss,’ Kevin Daly said sleepily. ‘I’ll make it worth your while.’

  ‘Haven’t you got work to go to?’ I threw my pillow at him.

  ‘Not at this hour. Jesus, what time did we get in at?’

  ‘One thirty, I think. You’d better get a move on. The traffic starts building in Wicklow from six thirty.’

  ‘This place really is the sticks, isn’t it? Listen, take the morning off, stay in bed with me and then we’ll go out somewhere for a leisurely breakfast, my treat.’

  ‘Kevin, I provide other people with leisurely breakfasts.’ I yawned. ‘Call in for a coffee and a muffin on your way.’

  ‘No, I won’t,’ he said, sounding miffed. ‘Gotta go, Orla will kill me.’ I blew him a kiss and headed for the bathroom.

  My eyes had grit behind the lids and my face the sort of pallor usually only seen in hospitals. I threw myself under a scalding shower and prepared to face another long day. In the end, I hadn’t even tried to resist Kevin’s charms. After that first day I was on such a high that I drank a bit too much and Kevin and I sort of drifted away from the gang and the flirting started in earnest. Orla had left shortly afterwards and I’d been feeling guilty ever since. When I’d woken up in bed beside him next morning I wasn’t at all sure I’d done the right thing. One-night stands never happened to me – I was too insecure to cope with the fallout – and besides, casual relationships just weren’t my thing, never had been. And the fact that Orla was even mildly interested would normally have sent me scurrying in the opposite direction. But that night it was like I was finally getting rid of the old Lily and ushering in a new, sophisticated, grown-up businesswoman – all the things I wasn’t. Next morning, of course, I was back to being good old insecure me.

  ‘Hi.’ I was all smiles as I trundled into the café, anxious to placate them. I was very late.

  ‘Hi,’ Orla said quietly.

  I started into making bread immediately. It was the only thing guaranteed to soothe my aching muscles, even though most people found it hard work. Kneading had the same effect on me as a hot port at the end of a winter walk did on most of my friends.

  ‘How’s the form?’ I asked Orla as soon as we had a quiet moment to ourselves.

  ‘Fine. You?’

  ‘I’m grand, but then I didn’t take the head off Violet and almost decapitate Naomi with a bread knife yesterday,’ I said with a smile.

  ‘If you’re trying to cheer me up then I should tell you that your bedside manner is seriously lacking.’

  I sighed and set out some seeds to give the bread a bit of crunch. ‘Want to tell me what’s wrong?’ I asked Orla gently.

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Something’s happened. You were in flying form in the pub the other night.’ I wasn’t sure how to proceed.

  ‘Yeah, well.’

  ‘That bread’ll be like glue if you keep going much longer.’ Violet was becoming quite the expert as she put down a coffee beside each of us.

  ‘Thanks, V.’ I picked up the cup and waited until she’d gone out again. ‘Is this about me and Kevin?’

  ‘Well, you jumped in there fairly quick,’ she said in a couldn’t-care-less voice. ‘One minute we were chatting, the next he had his tongue down your throat.’

  ‘I know.’ I gulped, preparing to take it on the chin. ‘I’ve no excuse. I was a bit drunk and on a high and things like that never happen to me, you know that. I lost the run of myself.’

  ‘Yeah, well, shame it had to happen with a guy I spotted first.’ Orla didn’t look at me.

  ‘Orla, I’m really, really sorry. It was wrong of me, I knew it the minute I woke up next day, in fact I knew it the minute you left early, if I’m honest. I guess I was just . . . I dunno . . . flattered by his attention. It was completely unexpected and I . . . I’ve been so lonely these past few months. It was stupid and thoughtless, especially after all you’ve done for me.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have done it to you,’ she said.

  ‘I know that. Mind you, you did end up with the cheeky pharmacist in Galway that August bank holiday weekend, remember? Exactly two hours after I told you I thought he was cute.’

  ‘Bitch!’ she said but her mouth was turned upwards. ‘Nah, it’s OK, I wouldn’t have been able to hold on to him anyway. He’s far too good-looking for me. What really annoyed me was that you just drifted away from us – one minute we were having a laugh and—’

  ‘Don’t remind me.’ I felt terrible. ‘I’m such a dork. I just got carried away with . . . power or something equally stupid. The café opening made me feel ten feet tall. And the bloody champagne had me thinking I was Anna Kournikova or something. ‘Are we OK?’ I asked gingerly.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Thanks.’ I meant it. ‘You saved my life, coming home like this, and I’m truly sorry that I was such an idiot. I’ll open up,’ I told her, glancing at the clock as I untied my apron and flung off my hairnet. ‘God, I look wrecked.’

  ‘Be careful you don’t frighten the customers so.’ She grinned her forgiveness at me and I stuck out my tongue as I passed.

  ‘Still better than your ugly mug,’ I told her, two fingers raised.

  ‘Hello again,’ I greeted my soya-drinking only regular so far. ‘How’s your week been?’

  ‘Terrible, but at least it’s Friday. By the way, those muffins were amazing. I’ll take one of each if you have them.’

  ‘Blueberry and custard today, I think, and . . . some nice ones just out of the oven made with organic raspberries and vanilla,’ I told her, checking the tray that had arrived. ‘ls that OK?’

  ‘Perfect. Do you really make them yourself?’

  ‘Of course. We make practically all our cakes, and where we do buy in they’re from “real” bakers – local women I’ve sourced personally.’

  ‘Well, I’ve been singing your praises all over town, so expect a few Dubs in over the weekend, I’d say.’

  ‘Thank you, that’s great. I don’t even know your name?’ I told her apologetically.

  ‘Sandra Horlicks.’ She held out her hand. ‘Actually, here’s my business card, just in case.’

  After that it was all go and we had quite a few phone orders as well, another encouraging sign, and one of the after-massers declared our organic porridge with honey and berries ‘the best healthy breakfast I’ve ever had, apart from the cream’. It was all looking very promising.

  * * *

  Daniel Williams dropped in around eleven. I was glad because I’d been thinking about him on and off since the opening night.

  ‘How’s it going?’ He smiled in a lazy fashion and I was thrown by the tingle I felt on seeing him again.

  ‘Those teeth must be false, they’re way too white and straight.’ I said it simply to hide my nerves and he looked a bit taken aback.

  ‘Thanks, I think. Do you always get so personal with your customers?’

  ‘Sorry.’ I laughed. ‘I do that sometimes. It goes straight from my brain to my mouth without any editing. Coffee and a muffin on the house to make up for it?’ I wanted him to hang around.

  ‘Not good commercial sense.’ He wagged a finger at me. ‘Too many freebies could put you out of business in the first year.’

  ‘Right so. In that case let’s start over.’ I cleared my throat. ‘Good morning, Daniel, nice to see you again. What can I get you?’ I liked teasing him, I decided.

  ‘I think I’ll try your . . . Let’s see.’ He glanced at the specials board. ‘Scrambled orange eggs with wild Kinvara smoked salmon on a toasted bagel,’ he read aloud. ‘What’s an orange egg?’

  ‘A
real egg, proper orange yolk, none of that pale yellow watery stuff,’ I said proudly.

  ‘Might be a tad too obscure for us culchies, that one.’ He winked and I laughed.

  ‘Coffee or tea to go with it?’

  ‘Double espresso, I need the hit.’ He yawned. ‘Have you time for one yourself?’

  ‘I have. But peppermint tea for me, I think. I’m wired enough as it is. I’ll just put your order in and join you with your coffee in a mo.’

  ‘Gimme one of those things with the berries sticking out of them while I’m waiting. I’m famished, I’ve been up since seven.’

  ‘Try five if you want an early start.’ I tonged a muffin on to a plate. ‘Actually on second thoughts I do need a coffee.’ I handed him the cake and he settled at a table by the window and stretched out like a cat in the sun. Two girls going by nudged each other and giggled and I knew he wouldn’t stay single around here for long.

  ‘Sorry about that.’ He’d almost finished his breakfast by the time I finally got a chance to sit down beside him. He’d rolled up his sleeves and I smelt cut grass and fresh air and I found myself wondering what he’d be like naked. I blushed.

  ‘Bit of a rush, eh? That’s good.’ He mopped up the last of his runny egg. ‘How’s business?’

  ‘Great, yeah. Children’s allowance today so the lady in the shop next door warned me what to expect.’ I was relieved he hadn’t copped my red face. ‘I’m glad you called in actually, because after you’d gone I realized I had no contact number for you and I’ve been wondering if you really were OK – after what I told you?’

  ‘Yeah, I am. It was a shock, naturally. I suppose I’d built up our meeting in my head. I was definitely looking forward to seeing her again but we were only getting to know each other really, although we’d talked a lot.’

  I wondered if he knew anything about her life. ‘How many times did you meet?’

  ‘We spent a couple of days together. I don’t know what it was. Maybe it was because we were both away from home – a bit more carefree, you know? Then we discovered we had Wicklow in common . . .’ He drained the last of his coffee. ‘I liked her a lot but I hadn’t any great expectations coming here the other night, though it sure was fun thinking about it.’ I liked the way he cocked his head to one side when he smiled.

  ‘Did she tell you much – you know, about her life?’

  Was it my imagination or did his face change? ‘What do you mean?’ he said easily.

  ‘Oh, you know, anything really?’

  ‘Nothing I hadn’t heard before.’

  ‘Oh.’ That was that, so.

  ‘So, tell me about you. Alison did mention you quite a bit. And Charlie. He was so cool the other night.’

  ‘Yes, he was.’ I smiled at the memory. ‘She left custody of him to me . . . Well, there’s only me, we don’t know anything about his father.’ I watched his face as I spoke. ‘So, it’s just the two of us now.’

  ‘And he lives with your aunt in Cork?’ He didn’t take the bait.

  ‘Just for the moment. He’ll be coming to live here . . . shortly.’

  ‘I liked your aunt.’

  ‘Isn’t she a dote? I must ring her this evening, it’s been mad around here and last night by the time I got upstairs it was too late. So, tell me about you? What’s in Wicklow for you?’

  ‘Wicklow’s home, although I was born in Australia.’

  ‘Really? How come?’

  ‘My mother is Australian.’ It explained his ever-so-slight drawl. God, he’s attractive, I decided. I must tell Orla.

  ‘We lived there for a few years, but my father had a hankering for the rolling hills of Wicklow.’ He laughed. ‘Always singing about them, any time he had a drink. My folks own the golf course out the coast road. I’m an engineer by profession. No intention really of settling down here – Dublin maybe, but Wicklow’s too small. Then my father died suddenly and my mum needed me, so I’m running the place. We do major golf holidays and tours. We have a big country house, the kind Americans love. It’s quite an operation so I’m here for the foreseeable future, I guess.’

  ‘Are you enjoying it?’ I hoped he was, I kinda liked knowing he was around.

  ‘I am, actually. I’m surprising myself. The countryside is so beautiful. Jeez, I must be getting old.’ He laughed. ‘Never thought I’d hear myself saying that.’

  ‘Hey, babe, I’m off.’ Kevin appeared out of nowhere.

  ‘Are you still here? I thought you’d an appointment at nine?’

  ‘I cancelled it.’

  ‘Oh sorry, Daniel, this is Kevin Daly, Kevin – Daniel. You probably met the night of the party?’ I couldn’t remember.

  ‘How’s it goin’, mate?’ Kevin asked.

  ‘Nice to see you again.’ Daniel stood up.

  ‘Cheers.’ They shook hands. ‘Talk to you later.’ Kevin kissed me lightly.

  ‘Yes, OK.’ I was a bit flustered.

  ‘Boyfriend?’ Daniel grinned.

  ‘Sort of.’ I was mortified. ‘Actually, we only just got together, so who knows?’ I hoped I sounded casual enough. I was anxious that he wouldn’t think I was ‘spoken for’ – to use a Wicklow phrase.

  ‘Sure,’ he said and got up to go. ‘I’d better work off that muffin by walking the course. Thanks for breakfast.’

  ‘Pleasure.’

  ‘You must come and see it some time.’

  ‘I’d love to. Oh,’ I looked around for my phone, ‘I should take your number, just so I know where to find you.’

  ‘Sure thing, but don’t forget, I know where to find you.’ He winked.

  I had arranged to meet James after work that evening. He’d sent me a text, asking me to meet him in a bar in Ashford, which I found strange. When I asked why, he simply said it was important. I hadn’t spoken to him since he’d told his wife the truth, so I wasn’t looking forward to tonight. It would be heavy going, I suspected.

  I arrived bang on seven but he was nowhere to be seen. I was settling myself in a corner when my phone rang. Just as I was fluttering around my bag looking for it, naturally it stopped. Then a quiet voice in front of me said, ‘Hello, you must be Lily?’

  ‘Yes?’ I was confused.

  ‘I’m Tamsin, James’s wife.’

  ‘Oh.’ My heart started beating faster.

  ‘I’m sorry, that was me ringing you just now. I wanted to be sure before I approached you.’

  ‘I see.’ I didn’t.

  ‘I was the one who wanted the meeting, actually. It was me who sent you the text.’

  ‘Oh.’ My vocabulary seemed suddenly limited.

  ‘Can I buy you a drink?’ she asked as a waiter hovered.

  I could’ve used one, but sensed I might need my wits about me. ‘Black coffee, please,’ I said to the waiter.

  ‘Same here, thank you.’ She smiled and he disappeared. ‘May I sit down?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ I didn’t know what else to say. She had obviously come straight from work. I noticed her slate-grey well-cut suit and soft leather shoes and it didn’t help my nerves one bit. She was pretty in a well-groomed New York-executive sort of way – the kind you see on Will and Grace. I tried to console myself with the fact that she’d orchestrated this meeting and so I’d let her do the talking.

  ‘I’m sure you’re wondering why I would want to meet you?’ she ventured as soon as we’d had our coffee delivered. It was weak and just about warm and more expensive than ours and I hardly even noticed, never mind gloated.

  ‘Yes,’ I said truthfully. ‘Does James know?’ I’d only just thought about that.

  ‘No. As I said, it was me who sent you the text – on his phone. I did it one night when he was in bed – and then worried that you wouldn’t reply until the next morning, when he’d have had his phone with him.’

  ‘And did I?’ I couldn’t remember.

  ‘Yes, luckily for me you did.’ She sipped her coffee and put it down carefully, as if considering where to start. ‘I suppose I’m lo
oking to figure the whole thing out,’ she said after a short pause. ‘All this has been a shock to me, naturally enough, but what’s really frightened me is that I never saw it coming.’

  ‘How do you mean?’ I was intrigued.

  ‘James and I, we have – had – the perfect marriage. He’s my best friend. I love him more than I ever thought it was possible.’ Her eyes lit up. ‘We talk about everything under the sun.’ She sipped her coffee. ‘So I have to ask myself, was I so obsessed with trying to get pregnant that I failed to notice what it was doing to him?’

  ‘That sounds very harsh on yourself.’ I was a bit afraid of being drawn in but it was out before I could help myself.

  ‘Well, he said he really tried to tell me how he was feeling many times before he . . . actually did anything. And I believe him. He wouldn’t lie in order to save his own skin, he’s not capable of it.’

  Surely he lied to you lots when he was seeing my sister? I didn’t say it but she read my mind.

  ‘Oh, he did tell fibs about where he was when it was going on, I know that. But he’s never lied to me about anything important . . .’ I think I knew what she meant.

  ‘Lily, we have no secrets, I promise you.’ She seemed to be forgetting that my sister had been one very big one.

  ‘So why didn’t he come with you . . . to meet me?’

  ‘Ah.’ She knew I’d caught her out. ‘I needed to speak to you alone.’

  ‘About what, exactly? I cannot tell you anything about his relationship with my sister, I’m afraid . . .’

  ‘Why not, if you don’t mind my asking?’

  ‘I didn’t know anything about it.’

  ‘Nothing at all?’ She seemed surprised but I sensed she believed me.

  ‘No.’

  ‘So, when did you find out?’

  ‘After she died.’

  ‘So, why did you . . . How did you contact—’

  ‘It’s complicated.’ I intervened before she could say any more. I wasn’t prepared for her questions in that regard.

  ‘I’m sorry, it must have been a very difficult time for you.’ I saw the pain in her eyes. She was nice, the sort of person you’d like to have as a friend, I imagined. I had an urge to tell her everything then and ask her advice. Maybe it was her soft, sympathetic voice. She wasn’t in the least bit pissed off with me – or Ali, as far as I could tell – and she wasn’t judging either me or my sister.