Chapter 4
‘What are you talking about? You did nothing wrong,’ Zoom Josie reassured her.
‘You don’t think saying “I’d really like that” was too pushy?’
‘Oh, for Pete’s sake, imagine if you hadn’t. You know all those ninety-nine-year-olds who are interviewed about what they regret most in life. Do they ever regret telling someone they liked them? Never. Not one, it just doesn’t happen.’
‘Thanks, Jos, that really helps.’
‘Hang on, I just need to get another Actimel. God, it’s the only thing that helps with the acidity.’
Josie hurried away, leaving an empty chair, and while she waited, Cassie looked down at her phone to see a message notification. Oh crap. Bottoms. Knickers. Just then Josie reappeared.
‘God, I wouldn’t be caught dead drinking these normally, but now I literally panic if I start to run out. I had Pal cycle down to the all-night shop at 3 a.m. on Saturday night.’
‘Don’t move, Jos, I’ve just got a message from Finn99 this very second. What’s “99”? The date, the ice cream?’ Cassie knew she was just trying to mask her nerves.
‘Shut up, just open it.’
Cassie pressed and read: ‘Can I cook you dinner to make up for Thor? He says he’s sorry and wants you to come. One request: no Bichons.’
‘He’s talking through his dog, that’s a good sign. Very,’ said Josie between gulps. There was something about her pregnancy that made consuming anything take on an astonishing urgency.
‘What’ll I say?’
‘Don’t overthink it. What do you want to say?’
‘Well, yes, obviously. Here goes .?.?. “Tell Thor thank you and I’d love to come. OK, no Bichons.” Send. Do you think it’s too soon for dinner?’
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake.’
They both cheered delightedly and high-fived each other across the miles.
‘That was a perfect reply, just perfect,’ said Josie. ‘You were totally in sync.’
‘That was kind of what I was going for,’ said Cassie, thrilled for once that she hadn’t screwed up.
*?*?*
They’d agreed to meet at seven o’clock at his apartment. But so many decisions: wine – red or white? Red could make her teeth go purple but white was too girly and might trigger her occasional allergy and bring on a sneezing attack. Red, then. Trousers or skirt? Jeans, keep it casual. But what about the top? Too skimpy would give the wrong impression. Plus, he might have the place at guy temperature, not girl temperature, and she’d be freezing. What was the right impression for dinner with a man she knew almost nothing about .?.?. Hiking jumper? Too hefty. Sparkly top? A month too late. Cream boat-necked top tucked into jeans and cute earrings? About right, just don’t slosh any of the red wine on it.
Mam had been riveted by the prospect of Cassie going on a date.
‘Don’t attempt to go out that door without showing me exactly what you’re wearing,’ she’d warned happily. ‘I can leave the alarm off for you in case you’re late back, and sure even if you’re not back, January is the lowest month for burglaries. I saw that on Garda Patrol one time. Apparently, the criminals are all at home watching Netflix, same as the rest of us, God love them.’
Eric was coming over that evening and Cassie had the distinct impression Mam was trying to get rid of her but just didn’t want to say so. As she was heading for the door, Mam stopped her.
‘Is that all you’re wearing? Is it not a bit plain?’
‘I just wanted to keep things low-key.’
‘You can be low-key when you’re dead.’
She couldn’t help noticing that Mam had changed into good jeans and a gorgeous floaty blouse over what looked very similar to the kind of simple top she herself was wearing. She had to admit that her mother looked decidedly more glamorous than she did. It was certainly a long way from the cosy fleeces she’d worn when Da was alive. Still, fair play to her. Cassie smiled to herself.
*?*?*
Finn opened the door wearing dark jeans and some sort of dark-green shirt that, she couldn’t help noticing, had two buttons open. She could smell his aftershave, which was .?.?. musky and something else she couldn’t quite identify, and he had a slight stubble which made her wonder what running her lips across that roughness might feel like .?.?.
‘Hey, come on in.’
The place behind him looked, well, kind of neutral. She noticed two bedrooms and apparently no flatmates, thank God. For a moment she felt overcome with shyness. After a week of secretly fantasising about Mr Balaclava, despite admonishment from her sensible self, here she was, stepping straight into his life. Into his apartment. He appeared a little bit flustered and stuck for words too. Thankfully, she remembered Da’s old saying: ‘When in doubt, just be nice. Ye can’t go wrong.’ Bless him. She smiled. Finn looked relieved and smiled too. They both stood like lemons, smiling at each other for a moment.
‘Wine? I’ve white in the fridge.’
‘Lovely, thanks.’
Feck the occasional allergy, she decided.
He vanished into the little open-plan kitchen behind the breakfast bar, with its pale marble countertop and dark wood, as she settled onto the green sofa and looked around. There wasn’t much to give away any clues about him as a person; in fact, if she were being honest, it all looked a bit bare. Was that a good thing? The place had that sweetish apartment smell that wasn’t of a person, more a situation. There was a big TV with a PS5 and an enormous dog bed by the gas fire, which was hissing away. Thor, true to his attachment issues, was staying close to his dad, especially with a stranger in the house. She’d noticed a set of golf clubs in the hallway, when he’d taken her coat as soon as she arrived.
‘I like your place.’
‘Thanks. It’s OK.’
There was something mournful about his tone. She was almost going to ask if he owned it, but something stopped her; it seemed highly unlikely. He handed her the chilled glass of wine and she took a larger gulp than she’d intended, due to nerves, which emboldened her.
‘Since I came back from London, I’ve been staying with Mam. Just for now.’
She felt a flush of embarrassment hearing the words out loud but, as Josie had pointed out, there was absolutely no point in pretending to be anything you weren’t. Spit it out and see how he takes it. Finn nodded gravely and shrugged. He seemed unbothered. Despite that, there was something intangible that felt .?.?. off. Like he was watching an inner movie at the same time as sitting in the room. And she didn’t know how to fix it, even though it felt like something that should be fixed. Why would you invite somebody for dinner and then be only half-there?
‘Finn?’
‘Sorry, I’m tired. I was on call last night, in case the system went down. Which it did.’
Oh dear.
‘You’re a gamer?’ she said, indicating the PlayStation.
He looked confused for a moment then lit up.
‘Yeah, overgrown kid here. I’ve a pile of games in the cupboard.’
‘Me too, I still keep all my old stuffed toys. You can hardly get into my bedroom.’ This was better, more like their coffee date.
‘Do you eat chicken? I forgot to ask: are you vegan or—?’
‘Because I’m some weird-ass actor?’
‘Something like that.’
Mercifully, they both burst out laughing.
‘I eat fucking everything. I have no morals.’ The heaviness in the room wafted upwards like the scented sheet in a fabric conditioner ad, as he gestured towards the table with a smile.
‘Madam, your seat.’
‘Why, thank you.’
He vanished for a moment then reappeared with plates of aromatic Thai red curry served with wild rice and raita on the side. She realised that after all the getting-ready stress, she was actually starving.
‘I hope it’s OK,’ he said. ‘New recipe.’
She tentatively tried a forkful of food, which caused her to involuntarily close her eyes in bliss. ‘Oh my God, Finn, this is heavenly! Where did you learn to cook like this?’
‘Ah, I’ve always been interested in food, just a hobby,’ he said diffidently, though she could tell he was pleased.
‘You know, my dad was an amazing chef and he did most of the cooking. It was one of the biggest things I missed when I left for London. Whenever I taste really good cooking, it just feels like home.’
After a beat he nodded. ‘That’s lovely.’
‘So, what made you ask me out, then?’ she asked, aware she was fishing for a compliment.
He laughed awkwardly. ‘You’re very direct.’
‘Sorry.’
‘No, I like it. You just struck me as different. I mean .?.?. you’re not like most of the people I meet – in a good way.’
‘I’m quirky, is that what you mean?’
He hesitated, and she recognised he wasn’t that suggestible.
‘That makes you sound odd. No, more like unique.’
‘People say that. I always suspected being unique was a bad thing.’
‘Most people are, well .?.?.’
‘Trying not to stand out, whereas I can just land flat on my back in the mud and haul myself out without embarrassment? Yeah, that does come from being an actor. Day one, you learn to stop being afraid of making a fool of yourself.’
He suddenly looked serious and she recognised the intensity in his eyes under the easy-going facade.
‘I like that you’re real, you’re not afraid. Too many people are afraid of being themselves.’ She wondered who he was referring to.
‘Gavin, my ex, used to say that I was like one of those wobbly toys with the round bottom that you could bat in any direction.’
‘The ones that keep bobbing back up?’
She’d meant it to be funny, but as soon as the words were out in the room, Cassie felt exposed.
‘He meant it in a nice way. A slaggy way. Although now I’m saying it out loud, it doesn’t sound that funny.’
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean—’
‘Oh no, I’m sorry! I realise I’ve just stumbled into ex territory on a first date.’
He’d started to gather up their plates, so he busied himself momentarily behind the kitchen counter, then clicked on his sound system. The sound of Green Day’s ‘Boulevard of Broken Dreams’ filled the room. Love his choice of music, she thought, but was there an underlying message in the lonesome lyrics?
‘So, Cassie, what about your ex? Were you married?’
‘To Gav? No.’
He refilled their glasses and sat back down. She could feel the intense focus of his attention, which had the effect of making her listen clearly to herself, perhaps for the first time.
‘He wasn’t .?.?. We just weren’t that type of couple, you know? When he arrived anywhere, there would always be a big kerfuffle. He was that sort of character who turned up the volume in a crowd: “Waay-haay, Gav’s arrived,” you know? Looking back, I can see he was at his best in a crowd. When he was alone with me, I always had this niggling feeling that I wasn’t quite enough for him. I should’ve realised that was on him, not me, but you live and learn. He ended up working with bands as a tour manager. Actually, he toured with some pretty big names. In fairness, he was really good at the job. He is one of those people great at everything they do .?.?.’ She found herself petering out.
‘So you felt you weren’t enough for him? But you’re gorgeous, surely you must realise that. I mean, you could have anybody.’
He reached out a hand and felt a tendril of her honey-blonde hair.
She studied his face, searching for any signs of insincerity, but there were none.
‘Really?’
‘How can you not know? Did nobody tell you?’
She shrugged. ‘I have a weird nose.’
He took her chin between his fingers and angled her face sideways. ‘What’s wrong with it? It’s beautiful.’
‘It’s a button. I look like a guinea pig.’
He burst out laughing. ‘Guinea pigs are adorable. I used to have one as a pet. But seriously, no you don’t.’
For a breathless moment she waited for him to kiss her, but he drew back.
‘It’s perfect, suits your face.’
She resisted the urge to reach out and run her finger along the arc of his well-shaped mouth.
The sound of ‘Mr. Brightside’ by The Killers came over the speakers. Was he hacking into her old Spotify account?
She realised he was smiling at her.
‘About Gav, you were saying .?.?.’
‘So, we originally met on my first real acting job, which was The Three Little Pigs panto in East Grinstead. I was the little pig who lived in the house of straw, so that meant I was mostly finished by the end of act one, and that’s how I was able to flirt with Gavin backstage.’
‘Hang on a minute, I thought in the story of the three little pigs, they all bunked in together as the wicked wolf blew each house down. How did you get out so early?’
‘The director was a socialist, he was intending the whole panto as a metaphor for housing standards. Thank God nobody noticed.’
‘Sounds like you brought the house down. Sorry.’
Cassie laughed and rolled her eyes. ‘First dad joke of the night.’
The sound of ‘Shut up and Dance’ by Walk the Moon filled the air. Finn turned up the volume.
‘Oh my God, I love this,’ she shouted over the noise.
Without warning, Finn grabbed her hand. ‘Come on, do you dance?’
‘Do I hell?’ She laughed, allowing herself to be pulled to her feet. That was sudden. Balaclava man as a dancer, no way had she seen this coming.
‘I used to dance all the time, but I haven’t for ages.’ It was true, it was a long time since she’d felt like dancing. Too long.
There was something about watching someone dance that told you more about them than words ever could. They rocked around the room, ignoring a series of thumps on the ceiling from the neighbours upstairs. Feck them, it wasn’t even ten. It was funny, they’d never met at a school disco when they were sixteen, never swigged vodka in a field or snogged behind the school hall, but it didn’t matter – those kids were still inside them, just waiting for a chance to burst out with the joy of feeling totally, ridiculously alive. They went through his playlist – a few oldies: ‘Since U Been Gone’ by Kelly Clarkson, ‘Lost Weekend’ by Lloyd Cole and the Commotions – until they finally heard the soulful strains of Adele. Wordlessly, they moved together, and she felt his heart pounding as he pulled her against his taut body and slid his hands down her back.
‘This is what I’ve wanted to do from the first time I saw you,’ he whispered.
It seemed unlikely to Cassie, given their first meeting, but who cared? She caught a faint musky smell rising off his body and the prickle of his stubble against her skin. She felt his mouth on hers, his tongue forcing her lips apart as she closed her eyes.
A moment later she held up her hand. ‘Hold on, don’t move for a moment. I need the loo.’
At some point, without Cassie noticing, they’d started a second bottle of wine and she was feeling more than a little floaty. Outside in the hallway, dizzy from desire, she found herself facing a row of identical doors. She could hear Finn’s voice shouting something vague and indistinct above the music, which she blithely ignored in her current state, and grabbed the nearest doorknob and twisted. Next thing she knew, a whack of something hard walloped against her forehead and sent her staggering backwards against the wall. As her shock abated, she realised it was a child’s scooter, which was followed by an avalanche of toys: coloured things, squeaky things, bouncy things, hard things .?.?. She screamed and slapped her hand to her forehead to find a definite bump coming up.
‘Finn!’
‘Shit, shit, I tried to tell you. I was going to.’
Far from being the strong, silent type, all of a sudden it seemed Finn couldn’t talk fast enough.
‘What the .?.?. fuck? Why didn’t you tell me?’
She picked up a plastic unicorn and hurled it at him, followed by the controller of a remote-control car.
‘Jesus, how many kids have you?’ she yelled.
‘Three. I have three,’ he gabbled, trying to shield his head after the first projectile made contact.
‘And I’ve just been clobbered by a Barbie .?.?. fucking .?.?. scooter,’ she wailed. ‘Why would you do that? Hide it all? Why wouldn’t you just tell me?’
‘I didn’t want to ruin things. I really like you and I was afraid you’d have this reaction.’
‘Well, I wouldn’t have if you’d just told me the truth.’
‘I wasn’t trying to deceive you. I swear. Wait here,’ he said and disappeared into the kitchen, returning with two pots of frozen yoghurt, one of which he was holding to the bruise on his own head, the other he handed to her.
‘What are you giving me that for? Is that dessert?’
‘It’ll stop the swelling.’
She took the frozen tub and held it to the bump.
‘I can’t believe this is happening, I feel like such an idiot. I can’t believe after everything that happened with Gav, I’ve walked into it all over again.’
‘Cassie, please .?.?. it’s not like that.’
‘I mean, do I actually have a sign on my forehead saying big eejit ? Do I? Because if I do, tell me! Please. You’d be doing me a favour!’
‘Stop, stop, listen to me, will you? I’m an idiot.’
‘You said it. Well, don’t worry, because that makes two of us,’ she retorted.
There was another thump from upstairs.
‘Aw fuck off,’ she roared.
‘Please, just calm down, we don’t want the Gardaí called. Let me explain.’
Cassie stood, panting, all shouted-out and, to her dismay, she felt her chin start to wobble uncontrollably. ‘How old are they?’
‘Samantha is fourteen, Conor is eleven and Cici is five, nearly six.’
She picked up a doll and ran her hand over its long auburn hair. ‘I used to have a doll a bit like this.’
It felt strange to be looking at the children’s toys when they weren’t around. As though she were getting a glimpse into something she shouldn’t be a part of. ‘I’m sorry, this is too much. I’m out of here.’
‘No, no, wait. Please, come back in and we can talk about it.’
‘Talk about what? You made a fool of me. Thank you for the evening, though, I was actually having a lovely time up until now.’
She grabbed her coat.
‘Let me give you a lift home at least. I don’t want to see you walking in the dark.’
‘Finn, you can’t drive, you’re drunk.’ She sniffled.
A part of her was screaming, Just calm down, give him a chance to explain. But it was too late, she was already on her way out the door, and a minute later she found herself clattering down the stairs, stifling tears.