Anyone for Me?

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Anyone for Me? Page 6

by Fiona Cassidy


  “Mwhah ha ha ha ha!” Frankie cackled in her best evil-stepmother laugh.

  I looked on and thought about the journey Frankie and Angelica had been on. They had gone from literally detesting the sight of each other, with lots of bumps along the way, to getting on not too badly, but they’d had one hell of a journey. (I’ll not give you the intimate details as it would take far too long, but it makes one hell of a story.) If Oprah was ever having a quiet day, she should come looking for this pair as her ratings would go through the roof.

  I heard excited giggling outside and knew that it signalled the arrival of Ben and Carly who had just been dropped off from the after-school club by a local bus.

  “Auntie Ruby!” Carly squealed in delight, enveloping me in a hug and making my heart soar.

  “How’s my favourite goddaughter?” I asked whilst smoothing down her hair which had come loose from its pony-tail. “Want to look in my bag and see if there’s anything there for you?”

  She found the sweets I had brought for her and threw a second packet towards Ben when he entered the room. He grinned and put up his thumb in thanks as opposed to hugging me, as apparently it was no longer the cool thing to do.

  “Excuse me. Just because Auntie Ruby’s here doesn’t mean you have to ignore me completely,” Frankie said, feigning a wounded tone of voice. “Honestly, Rubes, you have those two spoilt rotten.”

  “As I am entitled to do as their honorary aunt,” I said, smiling fondly at the two children I had nursed as babies, watched growing up and baby-sat.

  Angelica moved away from the sofa and could be seen from the sitting-room window going outside and holding out her arms to Baby Jack who was playing in the garden under the watchful eye of Owen who was cleaning his lawnmower. The little boy dropped what he was doing and instantly ran to her, shouting her name as she scooped him up and blew raspberries on his tummy.

  “I know,” Frankie said as she followed my gaze to the scene outside.

  “You know what?” I asked.

  “You have the same look on your face as my mother has when she watches them in action. Jack has brought joy to our family in so many ways. He’s a little miracle but I suppose his arrival helped Angelica feel that she fitted in and was part of things. It’s probably all to do with that old adage about blood being thicker than water.”

  “Tell me about it,” I said ruefully.

  “Oh shit, Ruby, I’m sorry,” Frankie said, shaking her head and clasping her hand over her mouth. “Now is not a good time for me to be talking about blood links, is it?”

  “And since when have I been an uber-sensitive female, Frankie? I may be a little confused but don’t be expecting any tears –” (what happens in Donegal stays in Donegal . . . ahem!) “– or high drama.”

  “Spoilsport!” Frankie retorted.

  Jack bounded into the room, closely followed by Angelica who was on her knees and growling like a dog.

  “Wuby, help! Wuby, help!” he panted as he climbed up my leg and hid in my shoulder.

  “I’m going to feed you to the big dog,” I said as he wrapped his plump arms around my neck and continued to giggle. He smelt of baby and outside and I loved him as if he was my own (minus the pain, the stretch-marks and the nine months without drink).

  As I held Jack and he continued to bury his little head in my neck, I was suddenly overcome with a sense of sadness. Partly for myself and partly for Georgina (my wayward birth mother) as I had obviously never nuzzled her neck and she had never had the opportunity to feel the closeness to me that I had for Jack even though he wasn’t my own. Why? It was my favourite word of the moment. (I felt like a nosy three-year-old always asking questions.)

  “I didn’t know that Luke was meeting you here,” Frankie said as we heard the sound of a car on the driveway outside.

  “He wasn’t,” I said as I jumped up, still holding Jack, to look out the large sitting-room bay window. “I thought he was taking photographs at the local council offices today. He must have finished up early.”

  “Were you expecting company?” Frankie asked as we saw that he wasn’t on his own.

  He had swung the car around and parked at such an angle that his passenger was blocked from view. All that was visible was the top of someone’s head.

  “Maybe Mandy has come to stay with you.”

  “Oh, please don’t say that. There’s only so much gossip-magazine talk I can take and it’s minuscule at the best of times. I couldn’t give a feck about the celebrities and who they’re snogging or divorcing even if most of them do both at the same time.”

  Mandy was Luke’s sister. There was a lot of history between us. The shortened version basically is that we used to loathe the sight of one another when we worked together in Redmond College. She was the receptionist and resident office gossip and as gossip (especially if it centred around me) was a pet hate of mine, we really didn’t see eye to eye at all. She also made the fatal error of involving Frankie in one of her stories (nearly causing her to lose her job in the process) and to say that I was psychotic and baying for blood would be an understatement. I had been plotting to murder her but then she introduced me to Luke (who had also been involved and was also nearly killed). And then I discovered that I rather liked him. I accompanied him to a pub quiz one night, wore a Wonder Bra, answered feck all right and we had a snog and a bag of chips on the way home and the rest as they say is history!

  “Is Mandy still writing that column for the magazine?” Frankie asked.

  “‘Tinseltown Titbits’,” Angelica said, joining us at the window.

  “That’s the one,” I agreed. “Best gossip columnist they’ve ever had by all accounts. What is Luke doing? Why is he not getting out of the car?”

  After what seemed like an eternity Luke eventually emerged but his cohort remained in the passenger seat.

  “Hi, love,” said Luke as I opened the front door for him.

  “Who’s with you?” I asked, craning my neck and squinting past him at the car.

  “It’s a surprise for you,” he answered. “Look, please don’t be mad at me, Ruby. I know that perhaps I shouldn’t have meddled but I know how much this means to you so I couldn’t help myself. I’ve been making a few enquiries over the past few days and have found the answer to all your problems. This will make life so much easier and then we can just get on with making our plans about the other important event.”

  Frankie’s hand had just flown to her mouth and I guessed that she must be thinking the same as I was. Luke had studied the birth certificate again. He must have done it whilst I was either sleeping or at work and then he had done something amazing. Something so amazing that my birth mother was now sitting in his car preparing to meet me. I was rather flummoxed as I had been looking forward to conducting my own search and wasn’t prepared for such an on-the-spot meeting but looking at Luke’s hopeful face and the way he was staring at me made me forgive him instantly.

  “Have I told you lately that I love you?” I said in a rare public display of affection before I threw my arms round his neck.

  “Whoa! You don’t even know what it is yet!”

  “I know I don’t but I can guess. Let me do it. Let me go out and say hello to this person who’s going to answer all my questions and put my mind at rest,” I said, playing along with his little game of hinting but not naming the surprise.

  “Okay,” Luke said. “Okay, Ruby. You do that. I’ll wait here as I know it will be something of an emotional moment for you. But let me give you a word of warning. The person in question is eccentric to say the least.”

  Why didn’t that surprise me? I stepped out onto the drive.

  Luke, Frankie and Angelica all looked like they were going to fall through the window as they were pressing against it so much in their efforts to get a first sighting of me meeting my natural mother. Even Owen had joined them, cradling Jack in his arms.

  It was something of a shock, therefore, when I approached the car and found a man with blonde
mullet-style spiky hair in a bright pink T-shirt talking rapidly into the mobile phone he held in one hand whilst waving the other hand around him in a wild and demonstrative fashion.

  As soon as he spotted me he got very excited and opened the door so that I could hear the tail end of his conversation.

  “Gotta go, dawling! Talk soon. Hugs!”

  Then he got out of the car at which point I nearly collapsed with blinding shock. As well as the pink top he was wearing a technicolour sarong over turquoise baggy trousers which were elasticated at the ankle. His feet were encased in gladiator sandals and his toes were sporting the most luminous nail-art I had ever seen. He looked at me appreciatively before bowing in front of me with a flourish.

  “Gabriel Sullivan,” he announced in a strange accent which was a mixture of somewhere in Southern Ireland, somewhere in England and somewhere in a certain part of Soho if his current appearance and stance of one leg crossed over the other whilst holding his waist was anything to go by.

  I had never been so confused in all my life. Had my mother had a sex change? Was Georgina now a very camp George? Was this a joke?

  I looked back at the window in bewilderment and saw that Frankie had her head buried in Owen’s shoulder whilst Angelica seemed to be in hysterics with Luke watching her with a worried expression.

  “Hello,” I said, unsure of how to continue the conversation.

  “Ah, the beautiful bride!” he said with a sway of his hips which I found quite nauseating.

  Who was this person? My mother? An aunt and/or uncle?

  “Luke told you then,” I said.

  “Oh yes. He’s filled me in on everything I need to know about you, my dawling, and I know that we’re going to get along just fine.”

  “Really?” I said, feeling annoyed (it wasn’t up to Luke to tell my story – it was up to me).

  He or ‘she’ or ‘heshe’ came a step closer and instinctively I stepped back.

  “You’re going to have to learn to trust me,” he said. “I don’t bite, you know, or at least not on the first meeting.” He laughed manically at his own joke whilst I looked for signs of recognition and found none (thank feck, I thought – I must look like my mother . . . father, I mean . . . I think . . . feck, maybe this was my father – no longer ‘unknown’?).

  “I suppose so,” I muttered. “I’d like to sit down properly and get some answers. I have a lot of questions as I’m sure you can imagine.”

  “And I have all the answers you need, honey,” he said. “Between us we’ll give you a day to remember. Here’s my business card just in case any of your friends need my services.”

  Services? Friends? Business card? What the hell was he talking about? I took the card and turned it over, and as I read it all became clear, and as it became clear a red mist descended in front of my eyes.

  “Luke!” I roared. “Get your arse out here now!”

  The pink creation suddenly seemed unsure of himself and started to retreat back to the car.

  “Good idea, mate,” I snarled. “Cause even if you don’t bite on the first meeting I feckin do. Luuuuuuuuuuuuke!”

  Luke appeared at the door, looking anxious as well he might, the stupid bollocks.

  “Out. Here. Now,” I repeated through gritted teeth whilst pointing at a spot on the ground next to me.

  “Ruby, please,” he began.

  “What is this?” I asked pointing at the car whose occupant now seemed to be cowering in the passenger seat, his earlier bravado in abeyance.

  “It’s a surprise,” Luke said weakly. “Ta – da!”

  “That is not a surprise, Luke. That is a freak dressed in a fluorescent shirt who suddenly thinks he has something to do with my wedding. Why is that? What have you done?”

  “I was only trying to help,” he said, looking huffy. “I thought it would take the pressure off you so that you could concentrate on finding your mother.”

  “What pressure, Luke? Did it appear to you that I was in any way stressed over our wedding? Did I look at all perturbed or as if I couldn’t handle things? I might look as if I couldn’t give a shit, which I don’t incidentally, about all the fluff but if I was interested I think I could manage without his, her, heshe’s help!”

  Frankie appeared at that stage and held her hands up as I opened my mouth to continue my speech and maintain the moral high ground (and scare the shite out of the twerp in the car).

  “This is all my fault,” she said. “I made a suggestion to Luke that he should get you a wedding planner the day we went shopping and you didn’t get a dress. I was only joking at the time but, now that he’s done it, I think it’s a wonderful idea. The perfect gift that most girls could only dream of.”

  “I am not most girls, Frankie. I am me. Actually, scrap that statement because I don’t know who I am any more or where I’ve come from for that matter.”

  Yeah, sure I was upset that Luke thought I was incapable of planning my own wedding but I was more annoyed at the fact that my hopes had been raised and then cruelly dashed. I had walked across Frankie’s gravelled driveway to meet my birth mother (okay, maybe I had got a tad carried away) but instead had met someone who wouldn’t have looked out of place in a grass skirt with a pineapple on his head.

  “Ruby,” Frankie said as she came towards me with arms outstretched whilst Luke watched us, looking forlorn, and Angelica looked curiously at the pink spectacle in the car.

  “I don’t think so,” I said as I walked away.

  Usually Frankie’s hugs got a more receptive response (even though I am not a touchy-feely person). On this occasion her arms were not well received, however, as she was standing in the enemy camp by trying to talk me into even contemplating having my wedding hijacked by a colour-blind eejit who had walked straight off the set of Priscilla Queen of the Desert.

  The car door opened and the said eejit appeared again, looking less confident than before but still swaggering.

  “I’m sorry, Ruby, I think there has been a bit of a communication problem and I seem to have borne the brunt of it. Your husband-to-be has already hired me to help him plan your wedding.”

  “Consider yourself un-hired then,” I snapped.

  “Not as easy as that, sweetie” (the feckwit had just called me ‘sweetie’). He fumbled in his pocket and produced a sheet of paper and started to wave it in front of me. “You see, the contract has been signed and in order to cancel it the client needs to pay me a sum of money upfront.”

  “So you’re telling me that he signed a contract with you today and that, now that it’s several hours old and I think you’re a tosspot, we can’t all go our separate ways?”

  “That’s about the height of it. Apart from your comment referring to me as a tosspot because I’m not.” He looked suddenly angry (or as angry as you can look dressed like a packet of Opal Fruits).

  “How much?” I demanded.

  “Two thousand pounds.”

  I heard several people gasp and although I wasn’t sure I think I was one of them.

  “Say that again,” I said, walking towards him and wishing I had a Kalashnikov rifle and a magazine of ammunition.

  “It’s written here in black and white and has been witnessed by a solicitor. Look, can’t we start again? I’ve never had anyone react this way before. People are normally delighted to have me help them. I’m very well connected and have a very exclusive client list, y’know. I had to stipulate in my contract that there would be some type of payment if the terms were broken because I work really hard on my client’s behalf to make their day totally unforgettable at a lot of personal and financial expense to myself.” He turned to Frankie and said in a trembling voice. “We haven’t been introduced. I’m Gabriel or you can call me Gay for short.”

  I heard snorts and saw that Angelica had just doubled over before falling sideways into a bush.

  “I think we all know what to feckin call you,” I said acerbically.

  Luke came forward. “Ruby’s had a big shoc
k so I think we should call it a day and discuss this again in the morning when we’ve all calmed down.”

  The last part of this statement seemed to be directed at me which only served to fuel the fire that was already blazing.

  “Get in, Ruby, and we’ll drop Gabriel back to his car in town and then go home.”

  “You can do what you like,” I said. “I am not going anywhere with you, or him for that matter. You seem to have it all worked out nicely between you so you don’t need me.”

  “Ruby, I thought you’d be pleased. I was only trying to help.”

  “Do me a favour, Luke. Don’t help me.” And with that I stormed out of Frankie’s driveway, disappointment, sorrow and anger all fighting for first place in the battle of emotions that was erupting in my head.

  Chapter 10

  “Oh God. What’s happened now?” was the way I was greeted the following evening when my mother found me sitting on the summer seat at the front of her cottage.

  “Why does something have to have happened?” I asked peevishly. “Is it not possible that I could simply have taken it upon myself to come and visit you?”

  Without even thinking about it for a split second, she eyed me suspiciously and said, “Noooooo.”

  I got up and followed her to the boot of her car where she was unloading large bags of flour and fresh fruit and vegetables and sighing loudly as if the worries of the world were on her shoulders.

  “What’s the matter?” I asked. “I didn’t mean for you to get upset. I just wanted to come and stay with you for a few days.”

  There was no response and it was only when I looked directly at her that I could see her mind was obviously occupied elsewhere and that she hadn’t heard me.

  “Mammy, are you listening to me? I’m going to have a sex change, dye my hair green and call myself Billy Bob.” (Green hair would undoubtedly be a vast improvement.)

  “That’s nice, pet,” she said absentmindedly.

  I groaned aloud. “Okay. What’s wrong, Mammy?”

 

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