9. Chapter Nine
Chapter Nine
Cillian opened the door. ‘Thanks for coming here to meet.’
‘No problem.’ May peered behind him. ‘Is Kitty home?’ She crossed her fingers mentally. If Cillian remembered her, being alone with him could be embarrassing.
‘No, she’s gone round to Nick’s.’
‘Right.’ May scrabbled for another idea. ‘Don’t fancy the pub, then?’
‘It’s not that.’ Cillian shrugged. ‘I’m just trying to avoid going out and about too much, you know … in case I’m recognised.’
He walked down the hall, leaving May with no choice. She shut the door with a little more force than necessary and followed, bristling with annoyance. Who did this guy think he was?
‘So you’re like, properly famous then?’
He turned to face her, walking backward into the kitchen. ‘For my sins.’
May assumed he thought the smile he gave her was charming.
All it did was irritate her further. She couldn’t decide whether it was the fact he was so good-looking that caused her hackles to rise, or that he appeared to have no recollection of the night they’d spent together.
Was she so insignificant to him? Had she performed so badly?
Or did he take so many adoring fans to bed he couldn’t distinguish one woman from the next?
Either way, she didn’t like it. Not one bit.
‘So what kind of stuff do you sing then?’ said May, wriggling out of her coat. She pulled out a chair at the table and draped the coat over the back.
‘Pop, mainly.’ He pulled two beers from the fridge and set them on the table. The charming smile was firmly in place, but May noticed a slight pink tinge to his cheeks.
‘What kind of pop?’ She liked this probing, which seemed to embarrass him.
This time he avoided her gaze by fumbling in a drawer for a bottle opener. ‘You haven’t looked me up then?’ he said, sliding her a mock-bashful grin.
‘No,’ said May. ‘Funnily enough, I haven’t. I can’t imagine anything worse than listening to cheesy pop songs.’
‘Right.’ Cillian laughed. ‘Metal more your thing, is it?’
‘Why do you say that?’ snapped May.
‘Just, you know … your look.’ He gestured with the bottle opener at her face.
‘My look?’ May arched a pierced eyebrow.
‘Yeah. You know – nose piercing, you’ve got your eyebrow pierced, I saw some tattoos under your sleeve, and you’re wearing all black.’ He tipped his head to the side, bringing back the charming smile.
‘You ever heard the expression “don’t judge a book by its cover”?
’ asked May. ‘For your information, my music taste is extremely eclectic. Yes, I enjoy metal, but I also enjoy 90s rap, trad folk, and I’m partial to a decent singer-songwriter, so long as the songs aren’t too soppy.
In the past year, I’ve been to gigs including rock, jazz, folk, and a dance night. ’
‘Wow.’ Cillian lifted his palms, the bottle opener making an arc in the air. ‘That is eclectic. I see it doesn’t include pop.’
‘No,’ said May. ‘I’ve never liked the kind of people who listen to that music. And I prefer songs that require at least two brain cells to compose.’ She wasn’t sure why she was so keen on rattling his cage. It was fun, though.
‘Bit harsh.’ Cillian popped the lids off the beers. ‘I’ll have you know, crafting a pop song is an art form in itself.’
‘I’ll take your word for that,’ said May, accepting the beer he handed her. ‘Right, so … the wedding. I was thinking it would be cool to have as much of it as possible on the beach.’
‘The beach?’ Cillian took a seat beside her at the table. ‘We’re not in Hawaii. Doesn’t it rain most of the time here? If it’s anything like Ireland, a beach wedding is the worst idea I’ve heard all year.’
He had a point, they’d need a backup plan, which would mean more work. May wasn’t going to admit to any of that, though. She folded her arms across her chest. ‘So what do you suggest then?’
Cillian shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Something traditional. Church, then maybe a golf club or a hotel reception.’
‘A hotel reception?’ scoffed May. ‘This is Alice and Kitty we’re talking about. Don’t you think they deserve something a bit more original than a hotel reception?’
Cillian winced, and May felt a tiny bit sorry she’d been so harsh.
‘I’ve been to some great weddings in hotels,’ he said with a defiant toss of his head.
‘Maybe,’ said May, ‘and perhaps I was a bit harsh. But still, come on. Surely we can think a bit more outside the box?’
‘I don’t think a wedding is the time to be thinking outside the box,’ said Cillian. ‘It’s supposed to be special, a day to remember.’ He peered at her. ‘If it’s money you’re worried about, don’t be. I’ve got plenty I can put into the budget.’
‘It wasn’t money I was thinking about,’ said May, bristling. ‘I just want my sister to have a day she’ll never forget.’
‘Battered by wind and rain on the beach in a wedding dress would give her something she wouldn’t forget.
’ Cillian laughed, and May bristled harder.
‘There’ll be elderly relatives there. Children.
The day has to be suitable for everybody.
’ He took a swallow of beer, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
‘It’s bad enough for my parents that Kitty isn’t getting married in the Catholic Church.
If they turn up to some ramshackle set-up on a beach, they’ll be horrified. ’
‘This is a nightmare,’ said May, throwing her head into her hands.
‘Sounds like we have very different ideas about what makes up a decent wedding.’ Her despair was genuine.
She’d said this was a bad idea, and she was right.
‘Anyway, who wants a double wedding? We’re doomed to fail.
We’re going to let both Alice and Kitty down. ’
‘Hold on,’ said Cillian. ‘There must be some way to compromise. Surely you see my point about the beach idea?’
‘Stop going on about the beach!’ said May. ‘I was just trying to illustrate my point. It doesn’t have to be the beach. We could do something at the pub. In the forest—’
‘The forest?’ said Cillian. ‘Bound to be muddy. The brides will be wearing white.’
‘Do you know—’ May kicked back her chair ‘—I’ve had enough. If you’re not prepared to even consider my suggestions, I don’t see how this is going to work. You can tell Kitty I’m sorry, but I’m out.’
May picked up her coat and bag and stormed out of the house. The moment the door slammed behind her, she regretted her actions. Cillian might be a stuck-up pretty boy, obviously used to getting his own way, but May would have to put her own feelings aside for the sake of Alice.
Now she was going to have to go back to Seashell Cottage and admit she’d messed things up before they’d even put a single plan into place.
‘Why do you have to be such a screw-up?’ May chided herself. ‘Can’t you get something right in your life for once? If you’ve proved anything tonight, it’s that you are your mother’s daughter.’
May’s shoulders slumped as she trudged through the village, her steps slowing with every inch closer to the cottage. Alice would be so disappointed in her. And that was before she even knew that letting her down over the wedding was merely the tip of a very deep iceberg.