Chapter 26
26
EMMY
Emmy had been talking to herself ever since she’d driven her car out of the hospital car park and steered it onto the road towards the fire station.
‘Please be there. Please be there. Please be there.’
And yes, she was aware that she sounded just like Minnie, chatting away to the universe, hoping that someone could hear her.
At first, from a medical point of view, her gran’s otherworldly communications with Grandad had worried Emmy, but she’d soon realised it wasn’t a delusion – Minnie didn’t actually see Grandad sitting in the chair every night. No, it was just her gran’s way of soothing the pain and keeping the loneliness at bay and, actually, Emmy was glad of it. If Minnie was singing along to a favourite old song on the radio, and it made her happy to think Grandad could hear it too, then there was no harm in it. Besides, as she said, he’d always been a man of few words.
A bit like Cormac, really. He’d never been one of those blokes who chattered away all day long, or wasted breath talking about stuff that didn’t matter. But like her grandad, he was funny, and smart, and a decent man. At least, that was what she’d thought. Now, she was about to find out if she should strike ‘honest’ off his list of qualities.
Urgh, she was starting to feel seriously nauseous. What the hell was she doing? Just after eight o’clock on New Year’s Eve and she was trawling Glasgow streets that were thronging with revellers gearing up for midnight, on her way to check out her boyfriend because her suspicions were refusing to die. And yes, they were founded on some pretty weird behaviour on Cormac’s part, but shouldn’t she be better than this? Shouldn’t she trust in his love for her?
But then, hadn’t her mum trusted in her dad?
Fuck it, she was going, and she’d just have to live with herself later, one way or another, but at least she’d know the truth.
In the distance, she saw the fire station on her right-hand side and leaned forward, peering through the windscreen, anxious to get a closer look. Cormac’s car – or rather, his truck – was usually parked in the car park at the front of the station. That had been something else she’d loved about him. None of that flash sports car energy with this guy – he had a slightly battered old white pick-up truck that he refused to change because he loved it so much. Surely that had to be an indicator of loyalty, right there?
Eyes flicking like a metronome between the car park in the distance and the road straight ahead, anxiety began to twist her insides. Yes! There was a white vehicle in the car park. She could see it. ‘Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.’ Bugger, she was doing the talking out loud thing again. But thank you anyway. Thank you. Thank…
Shit. She’d got close enough to see that it wasn’t Cormac’s white truck, but a small transit with ‘Barry’s Bakery’ emblazoned on the side, next to a logo that showed a design that resembled the Olympics symbol, but was made out of intertwining doughnuts. If she wasn’t so stressed, she’d find the whole scenario funny, but her sense of humour was clearly as lost as Cormac’s location.
No , she chided herself. Don’t draw conclusions just yet. Stick with it. Believe in him.
There was a car park round at the back of the building, so maybe his truck was there. Slowing down, she switched on her indicator as she approached the building. The doors were up, and she could see that one of the engines was out. Perhaps he was out with it. But if that was the case, his vehicle should definitely still be here.
Turning right into the entrance, she followed the road around to the back parking area. No pick-up there either. Hope fading, she drove into a space and pulled on the handbrake. He wasn’t here – and suddenly she felt like she shouldn’t have come because now she had the answer to a question she hadn’t been brave enough to ask outright.
Or maybe now was the time for a more direct approach.
With clammy hands, she picked up her phone and checked the location again.
Be here. Just be here.
Nope. Cormac Sweeney still wasn’t sharing his location.
Emmy closed her eyes, inhaled, exhaled.
Okay, do this.
Text. Cormac. Type.
Hey love, how’s your day going. Busy?
Send.
She waited, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel, counting the passing seconds in her head. When she got to 100, she couldn’t stand it any more. Sod it. He came to her work earlier, so surely there shouldn’t be an issue with her dropping by to say hello? It wasn’t something she did often, but she’d occasionally stopped in with a hot meal or his favourite coffee if he was on a double shift.
Anxiety crackling under her skin, she switched off the engine and jumped out, barely registering the bitter cold of the evening.
Was this it? Was she about to find out, for absolutely definite, that two of the three men she’d loved the most in life were liars? Was Grandad Henry the only one who wasn’t in the Lying Hall of Shame?
She was about to press the entrance buzzer, when a bloke she didn’t recognise came out and held the door open for her to pass. She thanked him and veered around him, eyes scanning the back reception area and immediately spotting Jake, one of the officers who usually worked the opposite shift to Cormac.
Her instant smile was her very best attempt to act like nothing was wrong. ‘Jake! How are you doing?’
In his fifties and planning to retire soon, Jake had one of those slow, languid, Matthew McConaughey smiles that told of someone who didn’t get too flustered about the small things in life.
‘Hey Emmy, I’m good. How about you? And why don’t you have a jacket on? You’ll get pneumonia out there.’
‘I’ve got an inner glow that keeps me toasty,’ Emmy joked with him, like she would on any other day. Any other day that she wasn’t absolutely fricking terrified about the rest of her life. Right now, the risk of developing pneumonia was the least of her worries. ‘Listen, I was just passing and wanted so see if Cormac’s here by any chance?’
She left that one deliberately ambiguous. Even if he was on shift, he might not be here because he was out on a job. Although, Jake didn’t need the additional detail of the missing pick-up truck.
With every fibre of her being, she wanted him to say, ‘Sure, hold on and I’ll buzz him.’ She was praying for it. Manifesting it. Thinking it into existence until…
‘Nope, it’s Shift Two and Shift Three that’s covering today. Shift One are off now until the third because they covered Christmas.’ Suddenly, his eyes narrowed, as if it had just occurred to him that she should have known that, so she went straight for the bluff.
‘Yes, but he’d said he might drop in because he’d left his gym bag here. I was just over this way and thought I’d try to catch him. No worries, Jake,’ she said breezily as she began to back out of the building. ‘Give my love to Caron…’ Emmy had met Jake’s wife at a couple of station functions. ‘And Happy New Year.’
‘You too, Emmy. And tell Cormac the same.’ That was delivered with that slow, languid grin again.
Emmy managed to keep her smile up all the way back to the door, and had just burst back out into the cold when it cracked spectacularly, replaced by a weight on her chest that was making it hard to breathe.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He was lying. He’d been lying the whole time. For how long? Since the start of their relationship? Or was this something new? And who was she? Who was the woman he was texting, seeing, shagging so often she smelled her perfume on his clothes?
Some women might want to scream. To howl. To smash windows and slash tyres and Emmy didn’t blame them, but right now, all she wanted to do was to speak to him, to confront him. She checked her phone again, hoping with every fibre of her soul that he’d replied to her message with some kind of answer that would clear the whole thing up, make this all an innocent misunderstanding. She couldn’t even think what that would be, but she also couldn’t bear to accept the reality. They were over. Done. This was how her mum had felt two years ago and oh, the shit coincidence that they’d both had their worlds shattered at the same time of the year.
The phone screen was blank. No reply. No explanation.
Before she really processed what she was doing, she hit a button to speak to one of the only people who could make her feel better right now. Yvie’s number rang five or six times, then diverted to her voicemail. Strange. Yvie was usually joined at the hip to her phone when she was off duty. Must be in the shower or something. Emmy didn’t bother to leave a message.
Her finger hovered over the screen again. Her mum would be arriving at Gino’s about now. And her gran would either be enjoying her movie, or already in bed. Minnie turned in any time between 7p.m. and 3a.m., depending on her mood. ‘One of the perks of being old, my love,’ she would say. ‘I can do absolutely anything I please.’
Emmy slouched back in the seat, head against the headrest, utterly deflated, sad and devastated… and there was not a single person she could call to talk about it. And the one person she wanted to speak to above everyone else? She had no idea where he was.
Another thought assaulted her. He’d told her he wouldn’t be back until morning. Did that mean he was… Oh crap, deep breath. Her heart was starting to beat out of her chest as she realised that it meant he must be with someone right now, preparing to bring in the New Year, and then spending the whole night with them afterwards. Was he staying at her house? Or were they away in a romantic hotel somewhere, sipping champagne and swapping chocolate fucking strawberries?
Her phone suddenly buzzed to life and she yelped as she jumped. Damn, her nerves were shot.
Please make it be Cormac.
Please make it be Yvie.
Please make it be anyone who could listen to her while her heart broke.
Her gaze went to the screen. DAD.
Bollocks. The one person she definitely didn’t want to speak to, especially not today. Not now. A tiny part of her longed for the dad that she’d grown up with, the one who would hug her when she was upset, make her laugh when she was sad. What happened to him? How could he have gone from that great father and husband to this train wreck of a person? She didn’t know the answer and right now she didn’t care to ask. Her dad could solve his own problems today. She was going to go home and lie in a bath and…
Another buzz. If it was her dad again, she decided she was putting the phone out the window.
It was a huge relief when the screen announced that it was Mum.
As she opened the message, she hoped it was going to say they’d had a change of heart and decided to stay in at Aunt Gwen’s place. If that was the case, Emmy could head there now and let three lovely women shower her with support. Actually two. Aunt Rhonda would probably go hunting for Cormac with a sharp object.
She read the text. Then read it again because it took a moment to absorb what it was actually saying.
Just got to Gino’s and your gran is here. She’s come alone but seems quite happy. Anyway, hope you’re good. Will call you at midnight. Love you. xx
Emmy still didn’t get it. Gran had absolutely, definitely, 100 per cent assured her that she was staying home tonight. Emmy had even felt sorry for her and worried that she’d be sad, but now it seemed maybe Gran was being economical with the truth too? Emmy dismissed that thought immediately. Minnie had never told a fib in her life. Something else had to be going on with her.
Her dad. Cormac. Her mum. Now Minnie. Everyone was shocking her today.
This was unbelievable. Unreal. Was there a full moon or some other weird thing going on? Or was she being pranked? That was it. Any minute now, a comedian and a camera crew would pop out of the bushes beside her.
She waited for a moment just to see if that happened.
Nope, this was all real. This was her life. Fricking spectacular. And there was only one way to deal with it. Her thumbs flew across the screen.
I’m on my way.