For Once In My Life

Chapter 39

On Tuesday morning, Mary Rose returned from a meeting, looking a little pale, as she cleared her throat. ‘Right… may I have your attention, please?’

Kitty and Hughie looked up.

‘I’ve been told by Mr Mulligan that if we don’t win the Welcome Ireland pitch, then the team is going to be dispersed and absorbed into others in the company.’

‘Dispersed?’ Hughie stood up. ‘I will not be dispersed. No one gets to disperse me!’

Mary Rose smiled wanly and Kitty noticed her hands were shaking a little. ‘Look,’ said Mary Rose, ‘career disappointment is a normal part of life. You two will be fine, you’ll be on another team soon and all will be well.’

‘But I like this team,’ said Hughie. ‘It’s like you hate your family but you don’t want another one. We’re all dysfunctional together and we know each other’s foibles… I mean, who else knows my coffee order? Who else knows that Kitty only eats tuna and mayonnaise sandwiches? And where is Alex going to go when she recovers from whatever it is she is recovering from?’

‘Alex won’t be coming back,’ said Mary Rose. ‘Not while Ben O’Leary is still head of the company. But look, all is not lost. I will get another job… and I’m going to sell my house. Buy a new one, smaller, perhaps further out from the city… Dundalk, I was thinking…’

Kitty looked at Hughie, and he shrugged and opened and closed his mouth, as though he’d run out of words. So had Kitty. For a copywriter to run out of words showed just how desperate their situation was.

At lunchtime, Kitty wandered over to the National Library, half-hoping that Tom and Roz might be there and… God, she didn’t know what she was doing or why, when she was the one who told him to go away. She had behaved terribly, allowing herself and Tom to get close and then abandoning him as soon as Dave returned.

She walked through the library reading room. There was the old man again, asleep on the chair, and another couple of toddlers being read to by their grandmother, and there were the students, diligently working away. Kitty sat down on one of the low couches and wondered if it was possible to stay here forever and never leave. Would anyone notice if she just fell asleep like the old man? Perhaps they wouldn’t like to disturb her and on she would slumber. As long as she kept her eyes closed, they would leave her alone. She edged down a little and shut her eyes.

When Kitty arrived home, she was determined to make the best of her life. After all, she did care for Dave and was certain that things would improve… if she learned to be less selfish and a nicer person. She shuddered when she thought of how awful she had been to Shazza and Annie.

‘Shall we watch World’s Greatest Manhunts?’ Dave was flicking through all of their 300+ channels from the Sky box, which had been installed that day.

‘No thanks…’ said Kitty.

‘What about Machetes and Maracas… you have to stand blindfolded and they throw things at you and it could be either a…’

‘Machete or a maraca? No thanks.’ Kitty was going to have to agree to something soon or they’d be like this all night. She had to just accept that this was her life, that they watched terrible TV together. The thought of her other life, the one spent on the pitch of the Sandycove Seafarers, or in The Island, or even on board Pansy-Pearl, seemed now to be a figment of her imagination. Had any of it really happened?

‘Or Survival In the Desert… these celebrities have to…’

‘Survive in the desert? Maybe…’

‘Or Celebrity Bear Wrestling?’

‘Go on then…’

It was worse than Kitty could have imagined, but Dave seemed happy, his arm around her shoulders, allowing small burps to escape from the side of his mouth. ‘Apologies,’ he said when a bigger than usual one was released. ‘Must be the lasagne.’

She’d added lots of hidden vegetables into the lasagne, hoping they would aid his sulphurous smell, but it seemed that the influx of veg had created a new problem.

‘Mam is really looking forward to the wedding,’ said Dave. ‘Which surprises me as I never thought she would agree to me getting married.’

‘Maybe you should have proposed to her,’ said Kitty.

Thankfully Dave laughed. ‘Maybe… but, seriously, she’s still looking for outfits for herself… she says she needs an evening dress… one to change into for the speeches and the dancing. By the way,’ he went on, ‘I saw your friend Shazza earlier. She was in a van with two men… two men! Can you believe it?’

‘Easily,’ said Kitty, with another pang of pain. ‘It was probably Tom and Rory…’

‘One had a beard is all I know,’ said Dave, ‘and my dad used to say only serial killers and filthy articles have beards, so I don’t know who Shazza is hanging about with, serial killer or filthy article?’

‘Perhaps he’s both,’ said Kitty. ‘Maybe we should save her before she’s indoctrinated in their cult…’

‘Oh, you can save her,’ said Dave. ‘I couldn’t be bothered. She’s always getting herself into trouble, that girl. She’s not like you, thankfully. Always off doing mad things, whereas you are not. You like to stay home with your financier’ – he meant fiancé – ‘and watch TV…’ He smiled at her with his slightly yellow teeth which had some of those hidden vegetables stuck in them. Not so hidden now, Kitty thought.

She checked her phone. Nothing from Shazza. She realised that a text from Shazza was the only thing which would make her happy. The thought of a Shazza-less existence was unbearable.

And nothing from Tom, but that was understandable, and probably for the best. She would see him later at training and they wouldn’t have to talk. And she could give up the football if it was too awkward. It was a terrifyingly claustrophobic feeling. And there was work to think of, the Welcome Ireland pitch dominating everything. She was inching closer to a finished idea, but there was still something missing. What on earth could it be? She’d gone through everything with Hughie and Mary Rose earlier and they too liked it but didn’t love it.