by Claire Allan
Jack runs over and jumps up onto my knee, sensing that my work is done for the day. “Mammy, come and play!” he giggles, grabbing my hand, jumping down and pulling me in the direction of the sandpit.
“Okay, darling,” I laugh, plonking myself unceremoniously down beside him and Lily and starting a game of build and destruct with the sand moulds.
An hour and a half later, Daisy and I are sitting in the living room as the children run around in their pyjamas.
“I won’t wait up,” I grin, topping up a glass of wine for my friend who looks a lot less nervous than she did this time last week.
“Well, I’ll make sure to phone before I come back. I don’t want to be coming back and walking in on you and Aidan in the act.”
I choke on my glass of water. “Daisy Cassidy, we are a respectable married couple. We don’t do that kind of thing any more.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Well, there is protection in my bedside drawer, just in case.”
I throw a cushion at her, shocked that I’m actually quite excited at the notion of getting physical with Aidan again. Our sex life had become so humdrum – so predictable – that I could almost time our every move down to the second. But now it feels different. It feels a little like it did back in the early days of our relationship. I was nervous then too, of course I was, but, God, I loved the passion. I loved that we could barely keep our hands off each other – that we could spend an entire weekend in bed and not even notice the time pass.
I’m not saying tonight will be the night the flames of passion re-ignite with Aidan, but I can feel the embers start to smoulder that bit again and there is nothing that I would like more than to spend time entangled in his arms, feeling his nakedness against my own.
Daisy laughs. “I just want you to be careful,” she says. “Well, I hope you have packed some of your little rubber friends too,” I tease. “Because I don’t want you to come round here with any babies!”
It seems such a transformation for us – we two friends sitting here and talking about functional relationships as opposed to those in freefall or those which actually do not exist at all. For as long as we have known each other we have both been longing for passion and romance. It mattered not that I was married. Aidan had his occasional moments, of course he did, or we would have been divorced a long time ago, but more often than not we acted like housemates who occasionally bumped uglies. And as for Daisy, her love life was a train wreck. The only man she had been associated with was TMF – well, there was also an unfortunate episode which never really took off with that Little Tikes accountant. We don’t ever talk about that one. Some things are best forgotten.
There were so many nights we talked about how we longed to feel that thrill of falling in love again and now, hey, look at us, doing just that!
Daisy leaves just as Aidan arrives, kissing me awkwardly on the cheek as he walks in. Jack runs to his arms with Lily not far behind. It feels weirdly comfortable. Here is my family, but in someone else’s home with Lily thrown in for good measure.
Aidan and I work together to get the children settled and it occurs to me just how well we fit – how well we know each other and our habits. He kisses Jack tonight, but lets me say his prayers. I make sure Lily has gone to the toilet before bed, but it is Aidan who checks under her pink bed for monsters.
As I serve up our dinner – a healthy salad and stir fry – Aidan lights the Chimnea and pours the wine. We sit together in the dusky twilight, enjoying the warm breeze of this late August night around us as it gently moves the branches on the trees.
“This feels good,” Aidan says, breaking our companionable silence.
“Yes, it does. Doesn’t it?” “I’ve missed this.”
“Me too.”
And we both know we are talking about a hell of a lot more than the last two weeks. We are talking about the last two years.
He reaches his hand to mine, the warmth of his touch sending shivers down my spine.
“I’ve missed you too, Grace,” he says and again I know instinctively this is about much more than our trial separation. I look at him across the table and I realise how handsome he is. Damn it, I realise how fecking sexy he is. He obviously looks older now than when we first met. He has more wrinkles, more grey hairs. He has a tiredness about him, but all this serves to make him look more like a man – a proper, grown-up, testosterone-filled man. He looks more like Harrison Ford in Indiana Jones, all stubbly and sexy, than Harrison Ford in Star Wars, all fresh-faced and boyish. I feel my heart beat a little faster.
“Will we go inside?” I say, lifting my wineglass and walking towards the door.
He stops me, catching me by the wrist, turning me towards him. He takes my wineglass from me, sets it back on the table, all the while never moving his gaze from me, and pulls me towards him. His hand slides behind my neck, pulling me closer to him. I am powerless to resist – even if I wanted to, which I don’t. He kisses me, slowly at first – tentatively waiting for my reaction. I kiss him back, my need growing. I need to show him I love him, want him, believe in him, trust him and fecking fancy the arse off him.
He groans in response to my kiss, pulling me closer to him again so that I can feel every delicious inch of him against me. This taking things slowly is going to a be lot harder than I thought. In fact, I think it is going to be impossible.
❃ ❃ ❃
Opening my eyes I try to get my bearings. Here I am on a cold, uncomfortable surface and yet I feel totally relaxed. Aidan’s arm is draped across my waist and his lips are nuzzled against my neck. There is an intimacy in our embrace that hasn’t been there for a long time – in fact, I’m not sure I can remember the last time I felt this blissful. I look to the display on the front of the DVD player and see that it is 11.30 pm. I can only have been sleeping for an hour, but I feel totally rested. There are cushions scattered around us.
I wrap the throw from the sofa around myself and pad to the kitchen for a glass of water, leaving Aidan lying on the floor, asleep and gorgeous. How could I have forgotten just how amazing he looks when naked? Amazing and mine. I grin as I walk to the fridge. Bringing two glasses back I sit on the floor, trickling a little drop of water on Aidan’s bare chest, prompting him to jump awake.
“Wakey, wakey, sunshine!”
I laugh and he grabs the glass off me, threatening to pour it over my head.
“You can’t do that!” I laugh. “Daisy will go mad if you soak the floor.”
“It can be mopped up,” he teases, tipping the glass slightly so that the water starts to drip from the glass.
I grab his wrist, and we wrestle together playfully before our eyes meet and we find ourselves locked in another kiss.
I had forgotten how intimate a kiss can be – how powerful and sexy. I had forgotten how to show my vulnerability in that single meeting of lips, how to express my love in that tender moment. I had also forgotten just how much it could turn me on.
Pulling away, while every part of me wants to lose myself in the moment, I sigh: “I suppose we just get ourselves into a respectable state. Daisy could be home any moment.”
“More’s the pity,” Aidan says, running his hand along the length of my thigh before sitting up and starting to dress. I kiss his back, his neck and hold him close.
“I love you, Grace,” he says, pulling my arms around him and holding me close.
And I say, “I love you too.”
Chapter 29
Today feels like my wedding day, my graduation day and my birthday all rolled into one. No matter how gradual this transformation has been, no matter how long this month has been and how I have wanted to give up and walk away during it, today is the day where I see the me I am going to be.
I’m not stupid or naive. I know this isn’t done. I know this is just the start, but I’m not scared of it any more.
I wake to Jack prising my eyes open, his eyes close to mine and his tiny nose rubbing against my own.
“Morning, Mammy!”
he cheeps. “Me wanna go get breakfast, and play with Lily and go to the beach and go to the park and eat ice cream and have fun.”
He barely pauses for breath and his enthusiasm for life makes my heart swell with pride.
“Well, Mammy wants a kiss and a cuddle and a kiss and a cuddle and another kiss,” I giggle, grabbing him close and tickling him until he squeals in delight.
At just that moment Lily pops her head around the doorframe, eager to find the source of the laughter.
“Morning, Auntie Grace, morning, Crazy Jack!” she shouts, running and jumping up on the bed. “Attack of the Babies!” she screams as she and Jack launch themselves at me, tickling and wriggling until we are all in danger of waking the whole neighbourhood with our laughter. Instead, we manage just to wake Daisy who pretends to be cross – which serves only to make the children laugh louder. “Come on, children,” she says, in her best Little Tikes manager voice. “Time for breakfast. Auntie Grace has a very busy day today.”
Lily jumps off the bed. “Is today your Princess Day, Auntie Grace?”
I nod. Jack hugs me.
“Mammy’s not a princess, Mammy’s a bum!” he laughs and I tickle him again.
“No messing, Mrs Adams,” Daisy says. “You have to get ready for your close-up.”
Of course, she is right. Today is the day of my makeover and my photo shoot. I can hardly believe that I’m having a photo shoot all to myself – nor can I believe I’m actually looking forward to it. I’ve never looked forward to having my photo taken in my life.
While some people would spend a small fortune on finding just the right photographer for those wistful and romantic shots for their wedding albums, I wanted someone who takes pictures as quickly as possible and preferably of everyone else and not me. I opted for Liam in the end – he made he feel relaxed, but not relaxed enough to actually enjoy the experience. Liam is taking the photos today too, but this time I’ve promised myself that I won’t bark, “Enough is enough!” at him before storming off for a glass of champagne in the hotel.
I shower and dress in jeans and a T-shirt before leaving Jack with Susie and heading into work. Everyone knows today is my big day and they know of the transformation, internally as well as externally, that I’ve undergone.
I handed my last proofs to Sinéad yesterday afternoon and by the time I had left the office at tea time, the mock- ups of the pages were almost complete. There was me, 15 stone and 5 pounds, looking glum and terrified at the start of my journey, surrounded by text telling my story. Four pages remain blank. They are for my “After” pictures in a variety of outfits and poses. I am the talk of the office, but this time no one feels sorry for me.
I walk into reception and Sheila smiles at me broadly from behind her desk.
“Morning, superstar,” she grins and I smile back. “Are you ready for your close-up?”
“I was born ready,” I grin, making for The Pit and the rest of my colleagues.
“Hang on a minute, missy,” Sheila shouts after me and I turn to see her holding a massive bouquet of ivory roses, each stem studded with a glittering crystal. “Somebody obviously loves you,” she says and I blush, reaching for the card. I don’t need to check who they are from, I know already, but I long to see his words on paper – to hold a card in my hand that he has touched.
“Good luck, Mrs Adams,” it reads. “I’m ready to carry you over the threshold any time you want.”
I grin again – at least now there is less chance of his gaining a hernia from the endeavour.
“You know what, Sheila,” I say. “Somebody really does love me.”
Carrying my bouquet down the stairwell to my desk, I catch sight of Louise from the corner of my eye and can almost feel the green hue of envy from where I stand.
“Morning!” I shout. “Lovely day, isn’t it?”
I sit down and switch on my computer, staring at that image of me from just four weeks ago. It is time, I decide, to put it behind me. I look at the selection of photos on my desktop. Dermot is still there – still as gorgeous as always, but there is a photo which immediately looks more appealing. Two gorgeous men, both with the same glint in their eye, the same smattering of dark hair, identical broad smiles – standing in the sunlight, waving at the photographer – someone they clearly love with all their hearts. Aidan and Jack are my new screensaver and, of course, I was behind the camera.
“Looking fucking cool, Grace!” Sinéad shouts, walking into the office. “Loving the flowers!” she winks, knowing this means things must be on the right track again with Aidan. “We leave in about half an hour. Hope you’re ready to have some serious fun.”
“You bet I am!” I answer and I can almost hear Louise’s huff move up a notch. My phone rings and I pick it up, with almost no hesitation. “Good morning, editorial, Grace Adams speaking.”
“Good morning, Grace-Adams-speaking, how are you?” “Grand, Mammy, what can I do you for?”
“Just wanted to wish you luck, sweetheart. I can’t wait to see the pictures. Can you call over after work so we can see the transformation?”
“I’ll do my best. See you about five thirty?” “Perfect. Have fun.”
“Will do. Love you, Mammy.” “Love you too, darling.”
Sinéad drives us to the town centre, where I’m whisked to a hair and beauty salon. I walk in and suddenly loads of skinny, blonde twenty-somethings are buzzing around me. They cloak me in one of those wonderful capes which stop you seeing the true horror of your spare tyres as you sit in the hairdresser’s chair, and get to work.
Apparently, I’m getting highlighted, or is it low-lighted? While the colours work their magic I’m having a manicure, and a pedicure, and a facial, if they can manage it. A glass of wine appears by my side, despite it being just ten thirty in the morning, and Sinéad has taken a seat alongside me while one of the blonde twenty-somethings works on her perfectly manicured talons.
“We’re really excited about this month’s issue,” Sinéad says, sipping from her glass, her mouth clearly needing something to help fight the urge to light up. “The advertisers are peeing their pants with the possible tie-ins and I have to say this is just the shake-up we needed at Northern People.”
“Louise’s idea was a good one,” I say.
“Feck that. Jesus, Louise just wanted to humiliate someone. I’d like to say her heart was in the right place, but then that would mean admitting she had a heart in the first place.”
I stay silent. I don’t want to become the office bitch – no matter how tempting that might be.
The effort of biting my tongue must be showing, as Sinéad stares at me and drops her voice to a whisper.
“Don’t feel sorry for her, Grace. Northern People has no place for people who don’t play to our team strengths. We have even less room for people who try to destroy us from within by creating bad feeling within our own staff. We can achieve a lot more by working together than by working against each other, and her display last week beggared belief. She’ll soon learn though.”
I raise an eyebrow, looking at Sinéad while icy-cold dye runs down the back of my neck, making me shiver.
“Just between you, me and the wall,” Sinéad faux- whispers, “Louise is on her way out. She is being relocated to Belfast to work on a new title, and the word is if she doesn’t up her game there she may find herself out on her ear.”
“Does that mean my old job is reopening?” I ask, feeling ready once again to take on the mantle of Health and Beauty Editor – this last month relighting my passion for writing.
“Afraid not, Gracie, but I’m looking for a Features Editor if you’re interested?”
I choke on my wine a little. Features Editor. Also known as ‘Grace’s Dream Job’ (you know, if the position of Dermot Murnaghan’s bed-warmer was all gone). This would make me Sinéad’s right-hand woman. I would get my own office, with my own squishy sofa. I would help set the editorial tone for the magazine. I can barely contain my excitement.
&
nbsp; “Damn right I’m interested.”
“Damn right the job’s yours then!” Sinéad smiles, clinking her glass against mine. “I’m delighted to welcome you, the real you, back to Northern People.”
❃ ❃ ❃
All it takes is three hours. Three hours of dying, cutting, painting, preening, dressing and some occasional tears and snotters, to make me feel like me again. This is the me I always wanted to be – only better because I never realised before I could be happy not being a Size 12. I have been twirling and smiling for the past two hours, changing outfits and allowing my lip-gloss to be touched up. Who would have thought that all this time there was a diva in me waiting to get out?
“You look stunning, Gracie,” Liam says as he takes his final shot and I swear I see a glimmer of a wee tear in the corner of his eye. This truly is a day of miracles after all.
❃ ❃ ❃
I arrive at Mammy’s house shortly after five thirty and ring the doorbell. I feel nervous and excited. I can’t wait to see her reaction and to show off the spoils of my efforts. Knocking again I wait, and wait, and there is no answer. I’m about to give up when Mammy comes running to the door in a fluster.
She stops, looks at me and starts to cry. I hear the words “look” and “beautiful” between her gulping sobs. The rest I can barely make out, but I just hug her, as tight as I can. It takes a few minutes for her to compose herself.