Chapter 9
‘Sorry .?.?. what?’
‘We’re getting married.’
It was a blustery Saturday morning and Cassie had come home from her dog-walking duties with her cheeks ruddy and her hair standing on end to find Mam and Eric sitting together on the sofa with coffee and Danish pastries laid out on the coffee table. That was remarkable enough, added to which she noticed Mam had put heated rollers in her hair that morning and was clearly wearing makeup, which was a sure indication of an upcoming photo opportunity.
Cassie realised she really shouldn’t have been that shocked by the revelation; also, both Mam and Eric couldn’t have been sweeter or more considerate in their tone.
‘When?’
‘Well, we thought early July.’ Mam gazed up at Eric. ‘And we’d like you to be one of our bridesmaids, with your sister Maxine, of course.’
Oh sweet, suffering Jesus, that was a whole other level of dreadful.
‘Wow, I am absolutely thrilled and .?.?. kind of surprised? If I’m being honest.’
Fucking stunned was what she meant.
Mam slipped her hand into Eric’s and began, as though speaking to a small child, ‘Eric and I met at a time in our lives when we’d both lost somebody very dear to us. And we’d like to spend the rest of the time left to us together. And we’re so happy to share it with you first of all.’
She’d never looked happier, Cassie thought, even with Da. She was conscious that this was Mam’s big moment and kept smiling, but underneath she felt .?.?. what? A twinge of jealousy that her mother had managed to win the lasting devotion of not one, but two fine men. A flash of indignation on Da’s behalf – I mean, for the love of God, he was only dead less than three years. On top of that was a wave of guilt for feeling like this. It made no sense; she had grown deeply fond of Eric and you could’ve seen from the International Space Station that they were perfect for each other, so what was her problem? Change. I hate change . Just don’t cry and ruin everything, she warned herself severely.
‘And we can go wedding-dress shopping together. We didn’t get to do that the first time round.’ Mam beamed. ‘We can link up with Maxine online from Toronto so she can give her opinion.’
Cassie’s smile froze. Oh crap.
Eric was very wisely saying nothing, but he leaned in, waving his iPad. ‘Little photo to mark the occasion?’
Predictably, she looked like a startled ostrich, while Mam and Eric looked like the golden-years couple from a multivitamin ad.
Half an hour later Cassie was rinsing the cups in the kitchen when Mam slipped in beside her with an air of anticipation about her.
‘Thank you for taking it all so well, love. I understand it might have been a shock for you.’
‘It’s OK, Mam, I’m really happy for you both.’
Cassie smiled bravely as Mam went on, ‘I know things have been a little distant between you and Maxie over the years and I hope this is the perfect time to put all the silliness behind you. Life’s too short for that sort of nonsense.’
Cassie was just about to protest that it wasn’t that simple, when Mam raised her hand.
‘There’s just one other thing and there’s no point in putting it off. I hope you understand, because I know it’ll work out for the best in the long run .?.?.’
That sounded ominous.
‘So, I’m sure you’ll understand that when Eric moves in, we’ll be wanting the house to ourselves.’
‘Of course, that goes without saying,’ said Cassie out loud with a smile.
Inside her, her ten-year-old self was wailing, I’m being evicted from my own home .
The next moment her sensible side kicked in: face it, we’re all adults, even though blood, in this case, didn’t seem to be thicker than water.
‘You don’t want to be stuck here with us oldies, you want to be up and out, getting on with your own life. Trust me, you’ll thank me in the end.’
Cassie had an image of herself like some perky prairie dog popping out of a burrow.
‘Oh sure, I’ll start checking out Daft. I’m sure there’ll be loads of properties on that.’
She knew she was being passive–aggressive but there did feel a distinct difference between moving out and being turfed out on your arse.
*?*?*
‘A bridesmaid with Maxine? How do you feel about that?’ Josie’s face was full of concern.
‘Freaked, obviously. She still thinks I’m a waste of space. I’m thrilled for Mam, sort of. Eric is a dote, but how am I supposed to find somewhere to live in this jungle of a housing crisis? You don’t know how bad it is here. I know it’s not easy in London, but trust me, there’s no comparison.’
‘Something will come up, it always does.’
‘In the absence of my own confidence, I’ll have to borrow yours. What am I going to do, Jos? Mam’s already started down the road of Bridezilla, I’m going to co-bridesmaid with the sister I’ve barely spoken to apart from Happy Christmas texts for years, and I’ve barely heard from Finn since our last date.’
‘Nothing since?’
‘OK, once this week he texted: Missing you, place feels v quiet . It was just the facts but that’s to be expected, he’s an engineer. Oh, and then I got a: Hope u slept well, had dream about you .’
‘Stop, stop, whoa, what sort of dream?’
‘How do I know? He’s a tidy texter, not a big, long psycho texter .?.?. And when I asked, he did text back: Tell u at the w/e. And that’s the last I heard. In fairness, maybe that’s why I’m being such a miserable bitch about Mam.’
‘Hold that thought, I need the loo. Every time I take a sip of water, I have to go.’
Just then Cassie’s phone beeped.
‘Jos, wait, it’s him: Are you around this evening? Am I?’
‘I don’t know, all I can think about is my bladder. Wait there.’
Exactly two minutes later Josie reappeared, looking infinitely more relaxed.
‘OK, now I can think. At such short notice? You most certainly are not. That is sounding way too casual for my liking.’
‘Come on, Jos, it’s only late lunchtime.’
‘Cas, I am thinking of your own good. If you make it too easy for him now, you’ll ruin everything.’
‘It’s a bit late for that, don’t you think?’
‘Nonsense, it’s never a minute too late to place value on yourself.’
‘How am I supposed to do that?’
‘Cass, if you weren’t afraid of him not coming back, what would you do?’
‘This is your The Rules book, Jos. When did you turn into Marjorie Proops?’
Josie was looking at her steadily with her ‘you know I’m right’ expression. ‘I bet your mum didn’t sleep with Eric on the first date.’
‘Nooo, please don’t give me that image. He was probably dressed in a smoking jacket and cravat like Sergei the meercat anyway.’
Josie burst out laughing.
‘Don’t laugh, this is serious. If I don’t see him tonight, then next weekend he’ll have his kids and that’ll be two whole weeks, and he’ll just forget about me. Plus, he’s probably on Tinder and has hundreds of other options anyway.’
Cassie could hear the plaintive tone in her voice and it wasn’t a pretty sound.
‘Only hundreds? I’d say thousands, possibly millions.’
‘It’s not funny, Jos.’
‘Whatever scares the hell out of you, lean into it.’
Which was possibly the worst advice ever given to anybody, but in her current state of uncertainty at least it was something to hang on to.
‘Nobody says you can’t have a smoochy phone call. That’ll make him want you more, not less.’
‘I don’t know,’ Cassie said. ‘This feels all wrong.’
‘It feels unfamiliar. That doesn’t mean it’s wrong. Do you want to slide into the “friends with benefits” zone, or do you want something more?’
‘Something more.’
‘Sorry, I don’t think I heard that?’
‘Something more,’ Cassie muttered like a child who’s been persuaded that they really don’t want that second ice cream.
‘I’ve got to go, Cass, my boobs are killing me. I need to stick two packs of frozen peas in my bra. Let me know how it goes.’
And she was gone.
Cassie was left to debate her two options alone. She could text back:
So sorry, can’t ? . Unfortunately made other plans
That would be the wise and dignified thing to do, even if it did make her sound like a miserable bitch. Alternatively, she could reply:
Sure, when and where?
This would be the pushover thing to do .?.?. or .?.?. could there be another option? Something that would steer the line between a booty call and the friend zone. OK, the last date had got a little – fine, a lot – out of hand and the no-nonsense side of her recognised that she needed to row back. She flinched at the endless excuses she’d made to herself about Gavin.
No. Just no. This was a new start. She would not do the same old thing and expect a new outcome. Not anymore. So she texted:
Oh dear, wasn’t sure we were still on so made alternate plans. P.S. what was the dream about?
She waited. The phone pinged.
Need to tell you in person.
Her heart lurched.
Phone me at six?
The reply arrived quickly:
As five o’clock passed, she found herself showering and putting a mask in her hair, because she needed to anyway. She then changed into her favourite loose jeans that hung on her slim frame and paired them with a blue-grey cashmere V-neck sweater that just happened to look and feel effortlessly wonderful. The secret weapon in any girl’s wardrobe.
This is so sad, she chided herself, you’re dressing for a date when you’ve just told him you’re unavailable. Well, if you’re not sure what you want, she reminded herself, just look at what you find yourself doing. Just then her phone rang.
‘Is that the dream-interpretation agency?’
She sighed. ‘Wrong number.’
She heard him chuckle.
‘Look, I’m really sorry, I should’ve contacted you way earlier. To be honest, it’s been such a crazy week, it went clean out of my mind,’ he said.
Be sweet but unavailable, she reminded herself.
‘What a shame, but never mind – next time,’ she purred. That was good, leave the way open for him to make it up to you.
‘Like I said, it’s a long time since I’ve done this. I’m out of practice.’
‘Oh, I don’t know .?.?.’ she murmured coquettishly. ‘You seem to be doing OK.’
He gave a short laugh. At least it didn’t sound like he was spending every spare waking moment scrolling on Tinder.
‘So, what was the dream?’
She heard him inhale. ‘Nothing much. I just dreamed you were there with me in the apartment, except that it was on wheels, and we were driving somewhere and when I woke up, well .?.?. you weren’t there.’
There was a pause. OK, that was pretty straightforward. Freud would’ve been out of business if the world was full of Finns; on the other hand, it was lovely – how often did you get a role in someone else’s dream?
‘And I realised I missed you.’
Oh, bugger the pretence.
‘I missed you too.’
OK, Josie would be proud of her. She’d made him a little sorry for screwing up the date but not sorry enough to be discouraged. For the first time in her life Cassie began to feel a little empowered in the dating game.
‘Where are you now?’ she couldn’t stop herself asking.
‘Across the road from your house, in the car.’
This was either very stalkerish or very endearing. She chose to go with the latter. For God’s sake what was she thinking? He’d shown remorse about being late, he’d dreamed about her, dammit, he’d even driven to her door. There was self-respect and then there was being a total eejit.
‘Just say, if your alternate plans didn’t start until later, would you have time to come for a drink?’
She contemplated that. For about one millisecond.
‘Yes. It’d have to be a bit quick, though.’ No point in sabotaging all the good work now.
‘I get it.’
She could hear the smile in his voice and was trying to purse her lips to stop herself from beaming.
‘OK, just give me a minute,’ she said airily.
Don’t fall over yourself now, she thought, adding a touch of blusher to her perfectly made-up face and finishing with a spritz of perfume. She briefly caught sight of herself in the mirror: a woman with honey-blonde hair in a long brown coat, collar turned up against the cold. She could turn heads. Mam met her at the door.
‘God, love, there’s some weirdo loitering in a car across the road. He’s been there for ages. Do you think I should call the Gardaí?’
‘It’s all right, Mam, he’s for me.’
*?*?*
‘I don’t know, I thought our last date went pretty well.’
Cassie could see Finn’s raised eyebrow; his face was illuminated by the streetlights as he spoke. They had parked above the city and were gazing out across the bay. Cassie gave him a playful tap.
‘So did I, but think about it, you have a complicated life at the moment and I do not.’
He smiled pointedly at her. ‘Apart from me?’
Interesting .?.?. That implied he saw himself in her life.
‘Apart from you. We’ve been so intimate and yet .?.?. God, I’m embarrassed to hear myself saying this, but I feel like I know very little about you.’
‘Funny, that’s exactly what my ex used to say.’
‘So, she thought you were unreadable as well.’ She smiled. ‘And were you?’
He gave a rueful laugh. ‘Maybe. Seems like it.’ His shoulders slumped a little. He’s really not used to this, she thought.
‘So, what happened?’
‘No blame,’ he began, which was a good sign. ‘Nobody else involved or anything like that.’
‘You just .?.?. fell out of love?’
He gave a snort of laughter.
‘Is that funny?’
‘No, it’s just I have asked myself that too: were we ever “in love” at all?’
‘Don’t make it sound like a disease.’
He seemed to be struggling to find the words and it struck Cassie that perhaps this was the first time he’d talked about it.
‘Maybe we were, for the first summer we were together. She’d just finished teacher training, I was working in my first graduate job, making decent money, and for those few months it seemed as though everything came together. It was like someone had turned down the force of gravity. OK, you have permission to laugh.’
‘No, that’s lovely. I’ve never heard it described quite like that before, but it sounds special. I mean, if that’s not being in love .?.?.’
‘Thank you, for some reason that makes me feel better. Like I didn’t just make it all up.’
There was a sadness in his voice. ‘It was that stage in our lives where you have all the independence and none of the responsibility.’
Cassie thought back over her long freelance career.
‘That can wear pretty thin after a while. Trust me.’
Finn made that sound where people exhale through their nose and finish with a harrumph to express a feeling of regret. There’s no word for that, Cassie thought. And there should be. People do it all the time.
‘I wonder how many couples run for years on the memory of a feeling.’
‘Lots, probably. They live on the feeling they got on their first date. Forever trying to recreate it. Though not my parents, now I think of it. They always seemed to laugh so much. Da would grab Mam and they’d jive around the kitchen whenever Abba or the Bee Gees came on the radio, and then she’d pretend to do the dance of the seven veils with a couple of tea towels. What were your parents like?’
‘Not like yours, by the sound of it. They were very separate.’ He seemed to be searching for the right words. ‘They were always very busy. It was all a bit chaotic, now I think of it.’
Instinct told Cassie to leave it, he’d tell her in his own good time.
‘My ex-wife is very organised.’
‘Good for her.’
‘Looking back, I think that’s what we ran on. A sixteen-year marriage and three kids based on one summer of love and a whole lot of lists.’
‘You stuck with it, though. Maybe there was more to it. It’s my theory that we don’t always know why we do something. Sometimes we start things for one reason and end up doing them for another.’
‘I changed.’
‘Was that a bad thing?’
‘I turned into an adult. I got stuck there. I sort of didn’t recognise myself anymore.’
‘Well, good for you. Sorry, I only mean that about the adult bit. That’s something I’m still working on.’
‘Why d’you think I’m here?’ He leaned in, took her face between his hands and kissed her. She felt her insides melt. He reached down with the other hand, fumbling with the lever, when suddenly the seat shot back, sending them both into fits of giggles.
‘Wow, smooth move .?.?.’
‘Come here .?.?.’ He pulled her astride him, allowing her to lean her head against his forehead as his hands explored the soft skin under her top, and she teased her mouth against the rough stubble of his upper lip. ‘Well, if you wanted to feel not like an adult, snogging in the car with a woman who still lives with her mammy is a good place to start.’
‘I love talking to you, Cassie Kearney, I love being with you. I knew that from the minute I saw you.’
‘What? Lying flat in the mud, totally winded by your dog, who by the way has serious attachment issues – you thought: that is the woman for me?’
‘That, and the fact you were gorgeous.’
‘With my grilled-tomato face and mud-caked hair?’
‘It was the natural look, I’ll admit.’
‘At least I don’t have too much to live up to. I’m hardly likely to destroy your illusions.’
He touched his lips against her hair.
‘That’s what I like. Don’t change, OK?’ He sounded serious.
‘I’m not sure I can. But I might have to try. I’m not looking to wreck the moment or anything, it’s just that I’ve spent way too long letting my heart rule my head. I’m really still trying to sort myself out. And you were hoping for something simple.’
He looked at her intently. ‘Why did you come home from London, when you had a whole life there? And a career in acting?’
‘Of sorts.’
‘Have you given that up?’ His tone felt curious but totally without judgement.
‘When I went as a teenager, I had such confidence. I felt like I could do anything. Sounds cocky, but it’s what you need. And then I came home one summer to visit and .?.?. something unfortunate happened. It was my fault. And it kind of .?.?. triggered some crisis, some self-doubt – I haven’t really analysed it, though I probably should – but looking back, after that, everything began to unravel. And the phone stopped ringing. I still feel guilty for Bea, she’d such belief in me.’
Finn watched her, waiting for her to continue. But she didn’t. The heart had gone out of her.
‘Finn, I’m sorry, I think I need to go home now.’
‘For your prior engagement?’
She pulled up a smile. ‘Yeah. Right.’
After they parked in front of the house, Cassie reached out in the dark and clutched his hand.
‘Thank you for asking me about all that,’ she said.
‘No. Thank you. I don’t talk enough about that sort of stuff.’
She could feel his struggle.
‘I kind of guessed.’
They sat for a moment in a silence that felt like stroking a soft-haired cat.
‘Admit it, this was a pretty classy date.’
She laughed. ‘A tepid glass of Pinot Grigio out of a paper cup for me and a Heiney zero from Spar for you, drunk by the light of the dashboard.’
‘Anywhere is fun with you, Cass.’
She allowed that to sink in.
‘OK, next time let’s take it up a notch – you better take me to the movies. You pick the film.’ There was something so uncomplicated and sweet about the movies. Like they were rolling back time to the place where life was still innocent.
He leaned forward and kissed her. She could feel the stubble as his tongue probed her mouth, eliciting an involuntary gasp. It was time to go.
‘Night,’ she whispered and scrambled out of the car.