Mr Right for the Night

by Marisa Mackle

  ‘That’s great,’ she told her friend. ‘Will you be seeing him again?’

  ‘Next week,’ Anna told her. ‘Time enough.’

  ‘You don’t sound too enthusiastic.’

  ‘I am, it’s just that . . .’

  ‘Ow!’

  ‘Do you want to put Andrew down and get back

  to me?’

  ‘No . . . Stop it, love . . . He needs his bath, it’s late.’

  ‘Right, well it’s like this: Jake flatters me and thinks I’m funny and all but . . . I’m not sure he’s the one.’

  ‘God, Anna,’ Claire sounded exasperated, ‘not every man you meet is going to be the one.’

  ‘That’s all right for you,’ Anna said sulkily. ‘You’re happily married.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Andrew was dribbling onto Claire’s silk blouse and pawing her hair with chocolate-covered fingers, ‘I forgot, you’re so right.’

  ‘Put Simon on to me,’ Anna demanded, ‘I’m going to kill him for setting me up like this.’

  ‘He’s not here,’ Claire sounded subdued.

  ‘Right . . . by the way, did Victoria mention me?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Silly cow.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Claire had gone all quiet.

  Afterwards she sat in the kitchen, slowly watching Simon’s shepherd’s pie going cold. She’d spent the last two hours making the kitchen sparkle. The heart-shaped candle she’d bought had practically melted. She blew it out. It was late. She really should go upstairs and take off her make-up. She was looking forward to testing her new cream. Simon showed no signs of coming home. The only messages on the answerphone were from her mother and a neighbour wondering if she was interested in joining the neighbourhood watch scheme.

  By midnight there was still no sign of Simon. She dialled his office. The phone rang off unanswered. Claire was beginning to feel sick with worry. All the goodness had gone out of her day, what with bumping into Victoria and her husband’s no-show. She climbed into the big empty double bed and switched on the television to try to take her mind off things, but every time she heard a noise her ears pricked up, expecting to hear the key turn in the front-door lock. Sometime in the early hours of the morning she drifted into a restless sleep.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Anna decided on a plain navy suit. She’d been given a half day to go to the head offices near O’Connell Street for her interview. As she marched past the Molly Malone statue, all high heels and business she asked herself what the hell she was doing.

  She wasn’t sure if she wanted to be sent to Ballygobackwards for six months and limit herself to nights out in one of two pubs where the local lads would be aged either eighteen or eighty. Okay, she’d be an assistant manager of Lolta’s but was that what she really wanted? Surely it would be better to stay in Dublin with all her friends? Hmmm. What friends?

  Anna checked her watch and quickened her pace. It wouldn’t do to be late. She crossed O’Connell Street thankful her skirt was nun’s length. The wind was biting. She passed one of the pound shops and was assaulted by the display of Valentine’s Day merchandise. Valentine’s! What a horrendous occasion. Yet again she wouldn’t be receiving anything. There was a time she’d sent herself cards . . . but she was too old for that now. Way too old. She bumped into Elaine coming out of the offices looking like death.

  ‘Elaine, how did it go?’ Anna was concerned.

  ‘Awful.’ Elaine’s face was a worrying grey. ‘I didn’t get a wink of sleep last night worrying about it and, after all that, they didn’t ask any of the questions I’d prepared.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ Anna was at a loss for words. She couldn’t understand for the world why anyone would lose a night’s sleep over something like this.

  ‘I desperately need the pay rise,’ Elaine wailed.

  So do I, Anna thought. But not at that price. ‘Listen, I’ll ring you later,’ she said, ‘and we’ll go for a drink. I’m sure it went a lot better than you think.’

  ‘Good luck.’ Elaine gave her an awkward hug and went off up the street.

  Crikey, Anna thought as she touched up her make-up in the Ladies. Some people took life far too seriously by far. Elaine really would need to chill out. Or maybe, an uncomfortable thought suddenly struck her, just maybe Elaine was right. Perhaps Elaine had her priorities all in the right order. Was Anna the eejit here? Someone who just went with the flow? People who went with the flow kept flowing down the river. Right? And drowned at the end of it, she supposed. Not a nice thought at all. She took three deep breaths, strode purposefully out of the Ladies and braced herself for a successful interview.

  ‘Where do you see yourself in five years’ time?’ Mr Walton the grey man from Personnel barked at her.

  In your chair not, she thought. Hopefully on a beach somewhere in the Bahamas with a handsome husband rubbing oil onto my back, having made my fortune in private retailing.

  ‘I’d like to see myself reaching my highest potential within the company,’ she said, trying not to gag.

  Walton drummed his Bic thoughtfully on the desk. He was impressed, she could see. The young colourless woman at his elbow was scribbling like something on Speed. Anna wondered what the hell she was writing.

  ‘Do you see yourself as a leader?’

  Anna took a deep breath and frowned as she prepared to consider the question seriously. ‘Absolutely,’ she said eventually. ‘I’d like to motivate my staff so that as a team we make Lolta’s grow as a company, encourage business and deliver high customer satisfaction.’

  God, if anyone could hear me talking like this I’d die, Anna thought.

  Walton lashed out a few more, obvious questions before he gave a fraction of a smile and wrapped up. ‘Have you any questions, Fidelma?’

  Fidelma did. ‘Describe yourself in three words.’

  ‘Cool, calm and calculated,’ Anna beamed. That was an easy one.

  Fidelma’s eyes widened, horrified. Walton’s blank stare swiftly became mild alarm. He gave a short cough that seemed to get caught somewhere in the middle of his throat. Anna swallowed in disbelief.

  ‘Sorry . . .’ she felt a rush of blood flow to her forehead, ‘. . . collected, I mean. Cool, calm and collected. That’s what I mean.’ She smiled helplessly.

  ‘Yes,’ Fidelma said awkwardly. ‘Well, that’s about all,’ she added stiffly. Her expression conveyed immeasurable contempt.

  Oh you can’t let me go now, Anna panicked. Oh God, no, please don’t let me walk out of here like a complete twat, she begged.

  ‘Thank you, Anna,’ Walton took her limp hand in his and gave it a hurried shake. ‘We’ll let you know on Monday.’

  ‘Yes, great,’ Anna said, false gaiety brightening her voice. She slunk from the room, tail between her legs.

  In Kiely’s pub, Anna added a splash of tonic to her stiff gin. She mixed it round with her straw, then knocked back half. Elaine was nowhere to be seen. A group of rugby lads surrounded the bar, shouting and clapping each other on the backs. Anna scrutinized the small TV screen in the corner and pretended to watch the match of the day. She hoped Elaine would bloody well hurry up. It was unusual for her to be late. Hopefully she hadn’t thrown herself under a train or anything. She took another sip of her G&T. There wasn’t much left. A studenty-type barperson wiped around her glass with a damp cloth and emptied the two cigarette butts lying in her ashtray. Anna noticed a couple of the rugby lads turning round and sizing her up. She ignored them.

  Maybe she was just being paranoid. Sitting alone in a busy, well-known Dublin pub on a Thursday evening had a way of making the most confident person feel uncomfortable. She wished she’d brought a newspaper.

  ‘Hi,’ Elaine’s voice made her start. ‘Sorry I’m late,’ She shook her damp hair.

  ‘Is it raining outside?’ Anna asked in alarm. She hadn’t even thought of bringing an umbrella with her.

  ‘No, I had a quick shower to try to wash away all my worries. So,’ she settled back into the comfy cushi
oned seat, ‘tell us all.’

  ‘Oh God, it was a disaster,’ Anna scowled. ‘A complete and utter fucking nightmare.’ Her blood ran hot and cold even thinking about it.

  Elaine ordered herself a double brandy and a second G&T for Anna. ‘What kind of questions did they ask?’

  Oh no, Anna’s heart sank. Surely they weren’t going to have a post-mortem on today’s fiasco. The whole point of going out and getting twisted was to forget today, enjoy the evening and act as if there mightn’t be a tomorrow. ‘Oh, just the usual,’ she answered absently, her eyes glazing over.

  Elaine got the message. ‘We’ll go over it tomorrow.’ She raised her glass. ‘To the future and all its uncertainty.’

  ‘To the future,’ Anna agreed heartily.

  They clinked glasses and laughed. Alcohol was amazing the way it altered your outlook on life.

  ‘Oh, wouldn’t you kill for a figure like that?’ Elaine turned as a tall svelte blonde sauntered past in a clingy black dress.

  ‘I know,’ Anna watched enviously as the girl linked arms with a tall well-dressed man. The man turned. Anna froze. She watched Mark hail the barman. He placed his order and glanced casually across the room. Anna picked up the menu and pretended to study it.

  ‘Are you hungry?’ Elaine questioned in a loud voice.

  ‘I am a bit,’ Anna muttered, determined not to let Mark see that she was on another manless night out. God, why couldn’t he have turned up in The Bailey on Tuesday night where he would have seen her sipping cocktails with Jake?

  ‘Oh look, it’s Mark,’ Elaine shouted. Anna rolled her eyes to the ceiling. It didn’t take long for Mark to parade his date across from the bar to meet them.

  ‘This is Sally,’ Mark beamed. He looked fantastic, a heavy cashmere coat half hiding one of his customary exquisite suits.

  Anna offered a reluctant hand. ‘I’ve heard so much about you,’ she forced a smile.

  Sally returned a look that said I haven’t heard anything about you. Anna ignored it. ‘This is my colleague, Elaine,’ she said, delighted at Sally’s distrusting expression.

  ‘Can I get you girls a drink?’ Mark enquired.

  ‘That’d be great,’ Elaine accepted before Anna got the chance to refuse.

  Mark returned to the bar. Sally stood awkwardly clutching her bag.

  ‘Busy day?’ Anna asked politely.

  ‘Every day is extremely busy for me. I work very long hours. I’m still studying as well. For my fellowship.’

  ‘Oh.’ Elaine looked lost.

  ‘Well, it must be great to get out now and again,’ Anna said.

  ‘Yes. Is this a girls’ night out?’

  ‘No.’ Anna gave a somewhat sarcastic smile. ‘You see all those guys at the bar? They’re with us.’

  Mark was back. He was about to sit down when Sally suddenly spotted a cosy space over on the far side of the pub. ‘There’s more room over there.’ She gave him an endearing smile. ‘We don’t want to be crowding you girls out,’ she addressed Anna and Elaine.

  ‘Have a good night,’ Mark looked almost sorry to go, ‘don’t go too mad.’

  ‘Don’t count on it,’ Elaine giggled.

  ‘Oh, Anna?’ he hesitated.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Ring me.’

  They disappeared into the crowd.

  ‘Well, what do you think of that?’ Anna stared after them indignantly.

  ‘It was very nice of him to buy us the drinks. He’s a gentleman.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Anna snapped. ‘Don’t you see he was just trying to make us all jealous, Sally included?’

  Elaine didn’t see at all. ‘He’s very good looking,’ she swooned. ‘Sally’s lucky.’

  ‘No she’s not.’ Anna was sticking to her guns. ‘Sure you couldn’t trust Mark as far as you could throw him.’

  ‘How do you know?’ Elaine accused. ‘Have you proof?’

  ‘Well . . . no,’ Anna began.

  ‘Has he ever tried to shift you?’

  ‘Unless you count ten years ago, no. But that’s not the point.’

  ‘You see, you’ve nothing on him. I think you fancy Mark.’

  ‘That’s outrageous,’ Anna said. The drink had obviously shot to poor Elaine’s head. ‘Mark? God, the thought of it!’

  ‘Don’t believe you,’ Elaine said drunkenly. ‘Don’t believe you,’ she repeated.

  They’d turned up the music. People were spilling into the pub. Elaine had cheered up no end. Anna was pleased. Elaine deserved a bit of fun.

  After Kiely’s a taxi took the girls to Anabel’s where they were treated to champagne by a bunch of golfers over from England. Two of the golfers wore wedding rings. Two didn’t. Anna directed most of her conversation towards the available ones. They weren’t much fun but, hey, the champagne was nice! Elaine was determined to dance. Not on the main dance floor, mind, but on the small one in the members’ bar where nobody else was dancing. Despite Anna’s gentle protests, she strutted her stuff to the delight of onlookers. God, she’s going to regret this in the morning, Anna thought. Elaine’s dancing was decidedly uncool. She must have seen Grease about sixty times. An odd-looking man in an ill-fitting velvet jacket joined her on the dance floor. He took Elaine’s hand and tried twirling her around. She missed her footing and fell. Anna rushed to the dance floor and scooped her up.

  ‘Let’s go back to my place for coffee,’ She led Elaine to the cloakroom to collect her coat.

  ‘No.’ Elaine was belligerent. ‘I want to have fun. I never have fun any more. I don’t want to go home,’ she said adamantly.

  ‘But we can’t stay here,’ Anna pleaded. ‘The club is closed. The lights are on.’

  ‘Are they?’ Elaine covered her face with both hands, horrified. ‘Ish my make-up all right?’

  ‘It’s fine.’ Anna guided her towards the front door. ‘No one will see it now anyway, we’re going home.’

  ‘I’m not going home.’ Elaine stood her ground in the car park of the Burlington Hotel.

  ‘Where are you going then?’ Anna wanted to know. It was a bitterly cold, early February morning. The wind was biting.

  ‘Leeshon Shtreet.’

  ‘Right.’ Impatience rising within her, Anna marched over to the other side of the road and stuck her hand out to flag down a passing cab. ‘But we’re only staying for half an hour.’

  They spent the following forty minutes sipping a bottle of plonk in a deserted Leeson Street club. Four women in cocktail dresses were dancing around their handbags. In a corner a dodgy-looking grey-haired man was lunging at a woman half his age. It was depressing.

  ‘Are you glad you came?’ Anna lit her last cigarette.

  ‘To be honest with you, yesh.’ Elaine raised her bloodshot eyes. ‘I’m shick of feeling shorry for myshelf. From now on, I want to enjoy my life.’

  ‘Well done,’ Anna gave her a hug, ‘that’s the spirit. Hey, how about we call it a night?’

  Elaine nodded drunkenly and knocked back the last of the plonk. Oh dear, Anna thought. She

  wouldn’t like to be Elaine’s head in the morning. She saw Elaine home first before falling into her own flat and onto her bed, fully clothed.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Claire pushed Andrew’s pram along Dun Laoighaire pier. The wind was against them but the sea air was fresh and the sound of Ranelagh traffic seemed a million miles away. She’d tried to persuade Simon to join them. She’d thought the walk would do him the world of good. But Simon had refused, choosing to stay home with the PC. Claire was worried about him. His mind was at work even when his body wasn’t. Where would it all end, she wondered. Life wasn’t supposed to be all about working and making money. She’d confronted him about the nights when he didn’t bother coming home. ‘It’s all about bonding,’ he’d explained. ‘You can’t just shut yourself off from the office crowd, you know. You have to put in appearances, now and again.’

  ‘Now and again, yes,’ she’d agreed. ‘But you don’
t have to stay out the whole night. Can’t you just take up golf or something like other blokes?’

  He’d said he was sorry and would seriously think about joining some kind of sports club. But Claire wasn’t holding out too much. In some ways she wished she were single all over again. Like Anna. Anna really lived her life. Her world was like that of a soap opera. Men coming and going like trains. It was so far removed from Claire’s humdrum existence. She’d always thought having a family would make her life complete. So where had it all gone wrong?

  She thought of her brief meeting with Victoria and shuddered. Victoria had life all worked out. Had Claire rushed into commitment without a moment’s consideration? Maybe she should have waited before diving in at the deep end of motherhood without a few swimming lessons first. Then again, who the hell was Victoria to judge anyone or anything?

  She parked Andrew’s buggy at the end of the pier and sat on the bench staring across to Howth. The sun seemed to be shining over there. Not in Dun Laoighaire, where a thick black cloud threatened rain. It was always the way, wasn’t it, she thought ironically. No matter where you were, the sun seemed to be shining elsewhere.

  Somewhere just out of reach.

  Because it was Sunday, a rather larger than usual crowd had gathered at the end of the pier despite the glum weather. Claire moved Andrew’s buggy slightly to let people pass. A youngish man clad in a navy wax jacket sat down.

  It was time to go but her legs were steadfastly refusing to budge. They often resented being marched for miles. Andrew’s cheeks were a healthy pink and he was dribbling onto his blue bunny coat. Claire found a tissue at the bottom of her bag and wiped his mouth.

  ‘What a beautiful baby,’ the young man sitting beside her commented in genuine admiration.

  ‘Thank you,’ Claire said without looking at him. He was well spoken. In fact his voice had a tinge of familiarity. But she was wary of striking up conversations with men while she was alone with her child.

  ‘What’s his name?’