Chapter 23
23
‘Oh my God, Brie, he wants to cook me dinner! Even after the horrific impression I must have made. Can you believe it – I’ve met a man who actually cooks?’ Jess shrieked down the phone. She’d perked right up after having stood under her shower for fifteen minutes, allowing the pounding water to ease the pounding in her head. ‘I’ve never had a boyfriend who could cook – not ever.’
Of course she couldn’t count the meal she’d enjoyed at Owen’s because he wasn’t her boyfriend. That was different, she assured herself. Besides, it wasn’t as though he’d had any choice in the matter. He was hardly going to let her starve, and it wasn’t as though there was a McDonald’s just down the road.
‘This Nick does sound pretty special from what you’ve told me. I can’t wait to meet him.’
‘You’ll love him,’ Jess gushed, though even as the words tripped from her tongue, she wasn’t sure Brianna would be smitten, especially not if they got onto the subject of the desperate housewives holding up his purchase of their local community centre. It was all a bit too close to home and exactly the kind of cause Brianna liked getting behind.
‘Hey, wouldn’t it be great if you and Nora have both met your soulmates at long last! Ooh, you could have a double wedding, and I could be bridesmaid – or because I’m married, do I have to be a matron of honour?’
‘Brie, you’re getting way ahead of yourself. I haven’t even had sex with the man yet.’
‘No, but you would have if you hadn’t passed out.’
‘It sounds terrible when you say it like that.’
The two women babbled on, happily discussing Nora and her death-defying activities all in the name of love, the latest Harry misdemeanour (he’d laddered his mother’s new tights while dressing up as Superman) until eventually the conversation steered its way round to Jess’s spontaneous trip to the North.
‘Believe it or not, I’ve never been across the border,’ Brianna said. ‘From what I’ve seen on the telly, it’s like another country – you know, with the different currency, the British shops, and all those murals and flags everywhere.’
‘I didn’t see too much of that side of things because you were bang on about the bus. It more or less took the back roads all the way to Ballymcguinness. It was a complete nightmare.’
Jess filled Brianna in on Leery Len to shrieks of laughter before moving on to Owen.
‘Oh, that poor man and his family; it’s just so sad.’ Brianna sniffed. ‘I don’t suppose it’s the type of thing you ever really get over either. I wonder if that’s why his marriage broke down; maybe he’s never dealt with his grief properly because men don’t talk about things like we do. They bottle it all up.’
‘No, to be honest, Brie, I think it was more likely his wife left him because he’s a right moody bugger. One minute he’s Mr Charming, the next he’s Mr Surly. If I had the space, I’d go for custody of Wilbur.’
‘Jess, you’re terrible! Give the man a break; he’s had a terrible time of it. You and I can’t even begin to imagine what him and his family went— Oh shite, is that the time? I have to run. I’ve got a meeting I have to get to. Sorry to rush off on you, babe. Ciao.’
‘No probs. I need to get on with some actual writing and not talking anyway.’
As soon as Jess put the phone down, it rang again.
She answered it to hear Nora’s harried voice. ‘It’s me, sweets – tell all, but try to tell all in five minutes because Ewan’s taking me waterskiing and we’re leaving in ten.’
‘Good God, Nora! It’s frigging freezing outside today! And you hate getting wet.’ Jess was taken aback because her friend was definitely a lounge-around-poolside-in-her-bikini girl who didn’t even like to dip a toe in to test the water. Nope, the red swimsuit Baywatch run was definitely not for the Nora she knew and loved.
‘It’s not cold in the South of France, and who knows? I might enjoy waterskiing.’ She didn’t sound convinced. ‘Anyway, I didn’t phone you to talk about me. Come on – dish the goodies.’
Jess gave a much-edited version of her antics the night before, knowing Nora would be nowhere near as sympathetic as Brianna had been about the whole hideous-undies-falling-asleep debacle.
‘OK, so let me get this straight – you didn’t have sex?’
‘No, we were, uh, um, I actually decided I wasn’t ready, so we just cuddled. He was a perfect gentleman.’
‘Jessica, Jessica, Jessica,’ Nora tutted down the line, and Jess didn’t need to see her to know she’d be shaking her head. ‘Come on – it’s me, Nora, you’re talking to. You crashed out, didn’t you? Mouth wide open, whole nine yards, full monty, dribbling crashed out.’ There was more tutting.
‘Yeah.’ Jess sighed, knowing the game was up. ‘How did you guess?’
‘Like I said, it’s me you’re talking to. Firstly, you never do well when you mix your drinks, and secondly, since when have you ever not been ready when a gorgeous man happens along and you’ve had a skinful?’
Jess wasn’t sure she liked this summarising of her behaviour, even if it was true.
‘Oh my God, he didn’t see your un?—’
Jess was saved by the bell.
‘Listen, Ewan’s here so I’ve got to go, but before I do, I have two words for you.’
‘What?’
‘Lingerie and redemption. For God’s sake, woman, go get yourself some decent underwear before your next date!’
Jess hung up the phone. She supposed Nora was right. Her mum hadn’t sent her any decent, saucy sets in ages. She seemed to have decided her daughter was a bit of a lost cause in that respect, especially if the slippers were anything to go by.
Moseying into the kitchen, she eyed her cupboards hopefully, deciding she needed something starchy and full of carbs before she could even think about doing any work.
She opened the doors of the pantry and surveyed the shelves. She’d done a Tesco’s run last week, so she had plenty of food in. On closer inspection, though, it was all food that involved some sort of preparation on her part, be it adding milk or – and this was definitely a no-goer – actually cooking. Frowning, she put the can of lentils back on the shelf and headed over to the fridge instead. Hmm… cheese, yogurt, some token carrots and broccoli – no, there was nothing else for it, she decided, slamming the fridge door shut. She’d have to hit McDonald’s.
She put her laptop into its carry case, grabbed her purse and headed out the door.
‘Eat yer fecking fries!’
Jess had got so lost in her work that she’d forgotten where she was: the Mary Street McDonald’s. Across from her sat a girl with stringy bleached hair, hardly old enough to be out of nappies herself, holding out a packet of French fries to a little boy perched in a high chair. He had a nose that was desperately in need of blowing and was far more interested in bashing the plastic toy that had come with his Happy Meal than eating his fries. The girl turned her pointy-featured gaze toward Jess, who quickly looked away, not wanting to give her the opportunity to ask, ‘What the feck are you looking at?’
Turning her attention back to her laptop, she decided to email what she’d just typed off to Owen. She’d written it from the heart, and she hoped he would realise that when he read through it. After typing a quick message enquiring as to Wilbur’s health, she attached her article and hit Send , then closed down her laptop. It was time to head home, but maybe she’d just grab a large fries first.