‘Well, I’ll definitely come over and we’ll go on a mad shopping spree,’ Claire enthused.
‘Definitely,’ Anna said, realizing that Claire must have absolutely no idea how hard a store manager worked. Weekend shopping sprees? In her dreams!
‘And you won’t be too lonely, will you?’ asked Claire, knowing that personally she’d rather die than head off to a big unfriendly city like London.
‘Not at all. Anyway, Roger’s over there if I ever need to see a member of my family in a hurry.’
‘Oh, that’s right,’ Claire said, suddenly remembering that Anna had a brother somewhere. ‘Your parents will probably visit you both so, you know, killing two birds and all that.’
‘Try stopping them.’
‘And what about Mark?’
‘What about him?’
‘Have you been in contact?’
‘Of course not, Mark and myself are no longer friends. That’s the way I want it.’
‘I still think you two should clear the air.’
‘Forget it, Claire. Mark had his chance.’
‘Did he?’ Claire sounded doubtful. ‘Anna, you never gave him anything but abuse.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘You were always going on about other men and stuff and going on about him just being a friend, you know?’
‘Is that a crime?’
‘No, but you shouldn’t have freaked out when he more or less played you at your own game.’
‘Yeah well, I probably overreacted,’ Anna admitted. ‘But there’s no way I’m ringing to apologize. No flippin’ way.’
Eventually Claire got off the phone after a tearful goodbye. Anna thanked God she wasn’t as emotional as Claire. Life wouldn’t be worth living if everything was that traumatic. It was good Claire was going back to work, though, even if it was part time. She’d probably become semi-normal again. Anna slumped down in front of Corrie and opened a packet of chocolate fingers.
The phone rang. Ah Jesus, who was that now? People should know not to ring during Coronation Street. It was just so rude. Well, she wouldn’t answer it. Sure, it was probably just her mother wondering had she packed yet. She could always ring back.
It rang and rang and rang.
All right, all right, hold your horses, I’m coming. Anna dragged herself off the couch. God, her mother could be so impatient sometimes.
‘Hello?’
‘Anna?’
It was a male voice. Anna felt a bolt of electricity shoot right through her. Oh Gawd, who the hell was this?
‘Ye . . . es?’
‘It’s Mark.’
Mark! Jesus. Anna stared dizzily at the phone. He had some neck ringing her after all that had happened. Had he heard about the party from hell? Was he ringing to offer his condolences. A million and one things shot through her head. Why had he suddenly decided to ring her?
To wish her luck with the rest of her life? To apologize for pretending he fancied her for over a decade? Well, he could go to hell as far as she was concerned.
‘Hi Mark, it’s good to hear from you,’ she said stiffly.
‘And it’s nice to hear you too,’ he returned the compliment.
And suddenly it dawned on her. Mark was ringing with his fond farewells. He wanted to wish her luck with the rest of her life. That was it, of course it was.
‘You’re off soon, I hear.’
‘That’s right,’ she tried to sound upbeat. She felt herself struggling like a fly in a web.
‘Any chance of catching you before you go?’
‘It’s highly unlikely, I leave Monday.’
‘Will you be around Sunday?’
‘As it happens, I’ll be at my parents Sunday night. It’ll be like The Last Supper, knowing them.’
‘I’ll call around so,’ Mark said, obviously ignoring the fact that she hadn’t invited him. ‘See you then, I’ll look forward to it.’
But I won’t, Anna thought as she twiddled the phone wire. The last thing she wanted was a parting chat with Mark. She hadn’t forgiven him for insulting her over the whole reunion thing. In fact she didn’t think she’d ever forgive him. He couldn’t go on pretending everything was all right between them. She’d called him a prick the last time they’d met. Oh God, it was humiliating. ‘Actually, Mark, I don’t think it’s a great idea,’ she said with a calmness she didn’t feel. ‘I’ve just got far too much to organize for tomorrow. But I’ll send you an e-mail from London, okay?’
‘Right, if that’s what you want,’ Mark said very quietly. ‘Well . . . good luck, Anna.’
Good luck? Anna stared at the dead phone. Good luck? She sat down on the bottom stair and burst into tears.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
So that was it. She was finally leaving the country. Anna sat in the kitchen of her family home and tucked into the vegetarian lasagne her mother had baked especially.
‘Of course, you’ll only be a phone call away,’ Mrs Allstone said encouragingly.
‘And half of Ireland’s living in England anyway, you’re bound to bump into some of them,’ her father added.
‘I doubt it, England’s not the type of place where you’d easily make friends.’
‘Nonsense,’ her dad said firmly. ‘With your personality, Anna, you’re bound to meet like-minded people.’
‘I remember my brother Eamonn went to England,’ Grandad said distantly. ‘He never came back.’
‘It was different in those days though,’ Mrs Allstone interjected quickly. ‘England’s less than an hour by plane, isn’t that right, Anna?’
‘That’s right.’
God, would they ever stop fussing over her like this? It was making her all emotional. She was going to England, no big deal about it. Anna was a big girl now. She wasn’t going to end up on the streets with no money, selling her body for drugs and living out of a cardboard box. This was simply a career move, not some huge drama. Anyway, why did everyone think she’d be lonely and down in the dumps in London? That wasn’t Anna at all. Didn’t anybody really know her at all? London was a cool place to live. Even Madonna lived there and she could afford to live anywhere. And Robbie Williams. And Geri Halliwell and all those really cool funky people. Anna couldn’t wait to join them all over in London. She’d have to get a good map and find out exactly where the Met Bar and the Ivy restaurant were. God, it was going to be so much fun!
‘Passport?’
‘Yes.’
‘Money?’
‘Yes.’
‘Contact lens solution?’
‘Er . . . I think so.’
‘First-class ticket?’
‘Oh God, Mum, you’re such a snob,’ Anna laughed.
‘Don’t worry, I’ve got everything packed.’
‘Are you sure now you don’t want us to drive you to the airport?’ Anna’s mother had tears in her eyes.
‘No, Mum, the bus stop is fine, it’ll be quicker with the bus lanes and all.’
‘You’ll write?’
‘I’ll phone,’ Anna laughed, ‘Anyway I’ll be home the weekend after next for Andrew’s second birthday. I’ll see you then.’
‘Take care, Anna, we’ll see you in two weeks,’ Anna’s Dad was a lot more practical.
At Donnybrook, the bus came along and as Anna paid her fare she heard a voice shout out ‘Anna’.
She swung around. ‘Nice one.’ Her dad clicked on the camera. Thank God she hadn’t let them take her all the way to the airport!
‘Window or aisle?’ The nicely made-up ground hostess processed her ticket.
‘Oh, the aisle is fine,’ Anna smiled. She wasn’t going to be childish now and ask for a seat with a view.
‘Your flight will be boarding from Boarding Area B, Gate 26,’ the girl smiled back. ‘Enjoy your flight.’ Anna skipped into Hughes & Hughes to buy a few rag mags to pass the time, but then decided to buy The Times (well, she really had to look the part). She also bought the latest Robyn Sisman before she left. Well, that was all. She
might as well try to find her boarding gate. There was a queue of people waiting to go through security and people were clinging to each other exchanging tearful farewells. Thank God she hadn’t let the folks come along, she reminded herself for the fiftieth time. She was about to join the queue when suddenly she remembered that – hurrah – she’d a business ticket that allowed her to fast track past the plebs. Brilliant idea.
She headed for the security belt.
‘Anna, ANNNAAAAA!’
She froze. Jesus, that voice. She turned. Slowly. As did everybody else.
Mark. Yes, oh Christ, it was Mark, on his knees. ‘Anna, don’t leave me. Don’t get on that plane. All is forgiven,’ he cried mockingly.
People began to titter. One man had to cover his mouth to smother uncontrollable laughter. This is so SO not funny, Anna winced. She felt like a complete twat standing there with her briefcase and The Times tucked under her arm, with Mark making two goons out of the pair of them.
‘Get up,’ she hissed, her cheeks crimson.
‘Oh ma Gad that’s so romantic,’ said an enormous woman wearing a Guinness is good for you cap.
Someone took a photo. And it wasn’t even her dad.
‘I’ll call security, Mark, I swear,’ Anna said, but the only security man she could see was laughing his head off. ‘I’ll never forgive you for this.’
‘Have you forgiven me for the other thing?’
‘Nope.’
‘Well then, I’ve nothing to lose.’
‘Please get up,’ Anna begged, ‘you’re making a show of me.’
‘Only if you promise me something.’
‘What?’
‘Well, there’s this reunion the lads are having. Will you come? As a friend?’
‘No.’
‘As a girlfriend?’
Her heart bungee-jumped. ‘Oh yes.’ Oh hang on, Anna, calm down. Say something witty. ‘Just don’t expect me to hold your hand.’
Mark got to his feet and gave a small bow to the crowd, no longer crying and hugging their loved ones.
‘Are they getting married, Mommy?’ a small boy asked the large lady with the Guinness cap.
‘No, honey,’ she sighed. ‘That kinda thing only happens in movies.’
‘I’ll kill you,’ Anna told Mark as he brushed the dirt off his knees.
‘Well, it’s better than ignoring me,’ Mark admitted.
‘How did you know what time I was coming out here?’
‘Claire.’
‘Claire! I’ll kill her. What else was she saying to you?’
‘Oh, you know, how much you loved me and all that.’
‘She what?’
‘Only messing.’
‘Mark?’
‘Yeah?’
‘I’ve just thought of something.’
‘Yeah?’
‘You had your school reunion two years ago.’
‘Oh God,’ Mark put his hands to his head, ‘did I? I forgot.’
‘Mark?’
‘Yeah?’
‘Why did you really come out here?’
‘Cos I want you to be my girlfriend,’ he grinned.
‘And that’s it?’
‘Yes, why?’
‘Cos I have to go now, right now.’
‘Okay, just give me my kiss.’
‘Uh?’
‘You’re my bird, I’m entitled to a snog.’
‘You’re a tosser.’
‘I know.’ He leaned forward and drew her towards him. His strong lips were on hers. She never wanted this kiss to end. ‘Did I ever tell you I think you’re beautiful?’ he murmured.
‘Tell me next weekend.’ Anna suddenly felt dizzyingly happy. This was too much to take in. She’d have to go away and analyse this, like, for ever. ‘After all, it’s taken you over a decade already and they’re boarding my flight now.’
‘What are we doing next weekend?’
‘You’re coming over to London.’
‘Am I? Cool!’
‘I’ll see you then,’ Anna grinned, her eyes shining. Over a decade, Mark mused as he watched her disappear through security. Over a decade. Was it really that long? It was too long. Far too long. A year was a much more reasonable time frame. Yes, a year was good. And that’s exactly how long he’d give himself to get her to come back home.
THE END
Find out more about Marisa and her other books on www.marisamackle.ie
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