Breakaway

by Deirdre Martin

  “Why? They’re the ones in the hot seat, not you.”

  “Yeah, but I’ve never done anything like this before.”

  “Do you want help?”

  Erin looked at him blankly. “I’m not understanding you here.”

  “I’ll help you. I can be writing down all the answers while you fire away. Then you can look at your notes later.”

  “I’m not completely incompetent, you know.”

  “It’s nothing to do with incompetence,” Rory interjected patiently. “It’s to do with making your life easier.”

  Listen to you, she thought, Mr. Helpful. But nothing about his expression or inflection rang untrue. He really was trying to do all he could for her, really was trying to atone in the hope of repairing the damage he’d done.

  “How many are you interviewing?”

  “Three today. I haven’t set a day for the rest yet.”

  “Too bad you don’t drive. I’d let you borrow the car—after I bought you a crash helmet.”

  “It wasn’t my fault,” Erin said under her breath, looking out the passenger window.

  “Yes, it was,” said Rory, sounding amused. “Every time you got behind the wheel, you tensed up.”

  “That was because you were barking commands at me!”

  “I didn’t want to die!”

  Erin glowered at him. “Think what you want, but you were a terrible driving teacher.”

  “I might have been a little impatient,” Rory admitted.

  “A little? You snapped at me when I turned on the radio.”

  Rory frowned. “Now you’re just exaggerating.”

  “I most certainly am not.”

  He glanced at her sideways. “Your father still won’t let you behind the wheel of his precious car, eh?”

  “No. He alone is allowed to pilot his Rolls-Royce.”

  Rory laughed, then casually continued, “And Jake never offered to teach you?”

  “He did, but I was still recovering from the trauma of being taught by you.”

  “And are you recovered?” Rory inquired.

  “Maybe.”

  It bugged her as Rory laughed again. She’d meant it as a dig, not a joke. Time to put her armor back on and show him that just because they’d bantered a bit, it didn’t mean they were back on any sort of road to romance. To her mind, they weren’t even pals.

  Rory must have felt her coolness.

  “So, after you do these interviews and hire the right one, what then?”

  “Then my mother raises holy hell, talks about betrayal, and says she’s not going to employ the person. I tell her that if she doesn’t, or if she tries to make that person’s life so hellish they quit, I will leave Ballycraig immediately.”

  Rory wasn’t buying it.

  “You would never do that. You haven’t even told her you’re doing these interviews.”

  “Because she’d make my life hell with the guilt. Better to ambush her.”

  “You’ll still cave in. Admit it, love. Better to tell her all the facts, cut down on the stress. Your Achilles heel is your family. You’re always the one that has to do the right thing. They’ve drummed it into you for so long, you’ve only now just gotten a grip on it.”

  “Then how do you explain the fact they were quite willing for me to move to America with you?”

  “No, they weren’t. Your mother hated the prospect of me taking you away. But she wanted you to be happy, so she backed off.”

  “Doesn’t mean I’m still not moving.”

  “Erin, I was your ticket out of here,” Rory said, slightly smug.

  “Oh, saving the life of your country girlfriend, were you?” Erin snarled. “Assuming that without you, I’d have never left. You didn’t think twice about dumping me, though, did you? So much for saving me. And PS—I didn’t need you to be my ticket out of here, you bloody jackass. Once you broke things off, I realized I didn’t need you to make my dreams come true. I actually should thank you for cutting me loose, because, in the end, it’s been a gift. Now I do what I want to do for myself, without worrying about how to please or accommodate anyone else.”

  “Except your mother.”

  “I’m working on that, I told you. Some of us aren’t hard-hearted: we don’t just pull the plug on those we love and walk away.”

  Rory winced. “Touché.” He was quiet for a long time. “You finishing up your course?”

  “Yes. That’s how I’m getting out of here. On my own.”

  “Then I can’t see why your mother is putting up such a hullabaloo.”

  “Because she doesn’t know. No one does except Sandra, Aislinn, Liam—and now you.”

  Rory smirked. “The wonderful Jake doesn’t know?”

  “I’m not discussing Jake with you, remember?”

  Rory looked irritated as Erin turned to look out the passenger window, suppressing a smile.

  “What’re you thinking?” he eventually asked. “About how you might be able to forgive me?”

  “Dream on.”

  “You’ve already started.”

  Erin turned to look at him. “You’re maddening! You’re truly maddening! You always have been, with your big mouth and your ego and—”

  “That’s why you hate yourself so much,” Rory cut in confidently. “Because despite my being the biggest idiot on earth, you still have real feelings for me. It’s there in the way you let down your guard so quick and chat with me. You want to hate me, but you can’t.”

  “Hate is a strong word. I don’t hate anyone. Not even you.”

  “Well, I do hate some things. I hate having these snatches of conversation. We need to sit down and just put it all out there. Clear the air between us.”

  Erin ignored him. “We’re here. That’s the caf up there. I’ll ring you when I’m done.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want any help?”

  The look she gave him said it all.

  “Right. Loud and clear. I’ll be here when you’re done.”

  * * *

  Erin soon overcame her nervousness. The first applicant, a Mrs. Doyle, was lovely and soft-spoken, with loads of experience. There was just one problem: she was roughly the same age as her mother, who would feel threatened despite being the boss. There was no need to ask her, “Why do you want this job?” The Irish economy was in the toilet. Jobs were hard to come by.

  The second candidate was only fifteen, a school leaver. She was sweet but had no experience, and given her age, Erin knew her mother would eat her alive. The poor girl wouldn’t last a week.

  Erin had a good feeling about the third candidate, Diana Everett. She was thirty and no-nonsense. She had experience working in a B and B in Killarney, the undisputed center of tourism in southwest Ireland. When Erin asked why she’d left a good, steady job, she was blunt: “The proprietor made untoward advances.” Erin could see straight off that Diana could hold her own against her mother if need be.

  Erin rose, shaking Diana’s hand. “I’ll be calling you within a week with my decision. Thank you so much for your time.”

  * * *

  Erin was surprised when she walked out of the caf to find Rory parked on the opposite side of the road, leaning against the hood of his car, casual as could be, reading the newspaper. Deep down, she was glad: the last thing she’d wanted to do was ring him to pick her up, like a child needing to be fetched from the cinema. Up until now, Rory was the one who’d done all the mentioning of driving, and Erin liked it that way.

  As soon as Rory saw her, he folded the paper and opened the car door for her. “Any luck?”

  “A possibility.” Erin cracked the window a tiny bit. “What are you doing here? I figured you’d be shopping.”

  “I’ve always hated shopping, remember? Unless it was a gift for you.”

  “Rory, don’t.”

  He hopped in the front seat and started the car. “Remember that time I bought you those diamond studs? I thought you’d skin me alive.”

  “I should h
ave.” Erin remembered it well. She’d burst into tears, feeling unworthy of the gift, and lashed out at him. Rory would have none of it. In the end, she accepted the beautiful gift and apologized. They’d made up by having raucous sex in Rory’s grandmother’s living room while she was in Crosshaven buying herself flannel nightgowns. Rory eased the car away from the curb. “Let’s take a drive.”

  “Let’s not. I’m tired. Truly. And I have a paper to write.”

  “All right.” He looked disappointed. “Maybe some other time, though.”

  “Are you soft in the head or what? The last thing I want is to go driving with you.”

  Rory looked at her seductively. “Too many memories, eh?”

  “Go chase yourself.”

  “Rather chase you.”

  “Stop it.” Erin was becoming genuinely irritated. This flirtatiousness was really getting out of hand. She felt herself softening toward him. Not good.

  Erin picked up the folded paper. It was a copy of the Sentinel, one of New York’s top tabloids. “Where did you manage to find this?”

  “At the tobacconist, if you can believe it. The world is getting smaller all the time. I’m not big on reading the news online.”

  Erin thumbed through it, not really looking at anything, or for anything. This is from New York, she thought. God, you’re a simpleton.

  “Miss it?”

  Rory hesitated a moment. “Yeah.”

  “You must be aching to get back there.” What if he says yes. Why do you care?

  Rory eased into traffic, if you could call it that. “Yes and no.”

  Cryptic Rory. No need to ask him what he meant. She wasn’t thick.

  “One of my mates on the team might be coming for a visit.”

  “Really?” This time there was no keeping the interest out of her voice.

  “Do you remember me telling you about that Finnish bloke on the team, Esa Saari?”

  “Not really.” She was pleased that she didn’t remember every little thing about him.

  “I didn’t like him at first. Totally egotistical. But he was cut down to size, and it turns out he’s a nice guy. Anyway, he’s all for a visit. Wants to relax for a week. He still plays football when he’s back in Finland, so he might be a big help with Jackson.”

  “Is Jackson not doing well?”

  “He can be a bit serious. He acts like the kids are going to be trying out for Man United next month.”

  “Larry—LJ—loves the camp.”

  “Nice escape from home, eh?”

  “Sandra does the best she can,” Erin said defensively.

  “I’m castin’ no stones. I know she loves those kids to death, but it would be better for them all if Larry pissed off once and for all.”

  “No kidding. I heard he’s been dealing drugs with his brother, Lance.”

  “Oh, that’s just great.”

  “I know,” Erin said worriedly.

  “Has Sandra heard about this?”

  “If she does, she hasn’t let on.”

  “Not good.”

  “Ya think?”

  “Lucy’s heading for trouble,” Rory continued authoritatively, ignoring her sarcasm. “Going out with that thicko.”

  “I know. Sandra’s worried.”

  “She ought to be.”

  “She’s tried everything, but you know what adolescents are like. There’s only so much she can do.”

  Rory chuckled. “Yeah, I know, having been one myself once.” He glanced at Erin. “Sandra really hates my guts, doesn’t she?”

  “She’s reason to, hasn’t she?”

  “Yeah, she does. I’ve always liked the way you two look out for each other.”

  “I don’t think I’d be sitting here next to you if it wasn’t for her,” Erin said candidly.

  “How does she feel about your plans to leg it out of here?”

  “Don’t say it like that. It sounds like I’m escaping from prison.”

  “Aren’t you?”

  Erin ignored him. “Sandra’s sad about it. We both are. But we were prepared to be separated when I was supposed to—you know—”

  “Marry me?”

  “Mmmm,” Erin supplied tersely. “She’s all for my leaving. She knows it’s something I have to do.”

  “I understand that feeling.”

  “I’m sure you do.”

  “Like right now,” Rory continued, undeterred. “I have to be here to undo the biggest mistake of my life.”

  “You can’t,” Erin said plainly. “You can’t just go back in time and fix things so you get the outcome you please.”

  “Can’t I?”

  “You show me no respect!”

  Rory seemed to retreat, staring off into the middle distance, mindlessly tapping the steering wheel. Eventually, he looked at her. “You’re right,” he said bluntly.

  Erin was shocked. She hadn’t expected him to cop to it.

  “I’m doing my best, Erin.” The vulnerability in his voice surprised her as he tentatively put his hand atop hers. It was a gesture of simple connecting, a way of trying to convey to her his newfound humility. Out of sheer kindness, she let his hand linger there longer than she ought before carefully sliding hers out from beneath his. Rory looked at her questioningly.

  “I was just trying to be nice, letting you put your hand on mine,” Erin explained.

  “Took your time taking it away, though, I noticed.”

  “Counting the seconds, were you?”

  “Maybe.” Rory looked restless. “Look, I’m not going to press the issue of you ’n’ me right now. All I ask is that you have a good long think and be honest with yourself.”

  Which was exactly what Erin didn’t want to do.

  14

  Most of the B and B guests were in the dining room when Erin got “home.” Mr. Russell was there, of course, sitting at “his” table, the one nearest the kitchen. Since he now lived here, he had free reign to go into the kitchen now and then and ask for what he pleased.

  Erin walked through, steeling herself for the showdown she’d be having in just a moment with her mother. But it wasn’t her mam pulling scones out of the oven; it was her dad.

  “What’s happened?” Erin threw her bag on a kitchen chair and hurriedly shrugged out of her jacket.

  “Calm yourself down, girl.” Her father put the muffin tin on the stove top to cool. “It’s nothing major.”

  “Then why are you here, Dad? What about the shop?”

  “I left Geoff in charge for now. I’m just here until…”

  He took the terrycloth gloves off his hands and began untying the apron.

  “I got here, right?”

  Her father looked shamefaced.

  “Is that what she told you?”

  “It’s not a big deal, love.”

  “It is a big deal. When all those guests out there finish, someone is going to have to collect the dishes, put them in the dishwasher, wrap the leftovers, grab the napkins and tablecloths to go down to the laundry, polish the tabletops, vacuum, and set up the dishes for tomorrow morning.

  “I can’t believe she stuck you with that,” Erin continued angrily. “You’ve your own busy business to run.”

  “It’s women troubles and that,” her father replied, waving his hand in the air vaguely. “Doubled over with the cramps.”

  Erin patted his shoulder. “Go back to the shop, Dad. I’ll take care of the cleanup. Go.”

  “Are you certain?”

  “I usually am.”

  “You’re a good girl, Erin. Always have been.”

  It was time to test the waters. “Dad, I’m not going to be here forever, you know.”

  Her father smiled sadly. “I’m glad to hear it.”

  “Really?”

  “Of course. That was never your plan. Rory Brady or not, it makes me happy to know you’re sticking to your dreams.” He took a deep breath. “Your mother’s having a tough time of it.”

  “No kidding.”

 
“Don’t be snarky, now. You’re her only daughter. I know she’s trying to pour the guilt on thick, but that’s only because she’s scared. And sad, too, that neither of her kids will be close by.”

  “I wouldn’t have been close by if I’d married Rory,” Erin protested.

  “I know, I know,” he said, making a gesture that she should lower her voice a bit. “But that was different, see? You’d have someone there to take care of you.”

  “But I don’t need anyone to take care of me!”

  “We know that, but she doesn’t. You know your mother’s thinking is old-fashioned.”

  “I know. Remember she thought it was odd that Aislinn took over the farm when her dad died?”

  “I do. But that’s your mother.” He tugged on the end of her hair the way he did when she was a little girl. “Cut her some slack, girl. She just wants you near.”

  “And does she think the way to keep me near is to work me like a slave?”

  “I’ve told her the very same thing.”

  Erin was astonished. “You have?”

  “Of course I have. Only a fool couldn’t see she’s deliberately draggin’ her feet on getting a replacement for you. She thinks the longer she can get you to stay, the greater the chance you might get to like being part of the family business. Mad, I know. But mothers reach for these things.”

  “I was in Crosshaven today interviewing people.”

  Her father looked surprised. “And how did it go?”

  “There was one woman who I thought could be a good match for Mam. But I’ve got some more lined up.”

  “Good for you.” Her father moved to the stove top to see if the scones were cool enough to tip from the tin. “But you know what you’re up against, don’t you?”

  “I do. I also know that whoever I bring in, Mam will try to make their life a living hell, until it dawns on her that if she fires them, she’ll definitely be running this place on her own.”

  “That’ll be a hard one on you, trying to turn her down.” Her father turned the tray upside down, shaking out the scones onto a large tray.

  “No kidding.”

  His expression was serious. “But I don’t think you should fold on this one, Erin. Much as I’d love you to stay, I know you need to spread your wings. You’ve a right to do that. I’d rather you were happy miles away than unhappy right under my nose. Your mother just can’t think straight about it right now, but she’ll come round eventually. I’m a dab hand at getting her to see reason. You’ll see.”