Chapter Twenty-Three #2
‘Me neither, it’s my worst nightmare to run out of conversation with anyone. Oh, I meant to tell you! I had a date the other day, and she was really lovely . . .’ His eyes light up.
My breath catches in my throat. I clear it. I feel my head spin a little. I swallow hard. I’m lost for words.
Donal tilts his head, looks at me. ‘You okay?’ A concerned look fleetingly passes across his face.
I clear my throat again. Pray for words. They finally come. ‘Ah. Um. Yeah, great. That’s really great. Was it from the Beyond Looks app?’ I feign casualness.
‘Yeah, actually, but it was a lunch date. She just wanted coffee and we took a walk around St Stephen’s Green, enjoyed the sunshine, sat on a bench, ate cherry scones. She’s a botanist.’
‘Great.’ What is going on? Am I actually jealous? I need to snap out of this.
He makes his claw, pulls his hair back. ‘She was incredibly nice, smart, good conversation, she was interesting, ya know? Plus, I think she liked me, too.’
If disappointment has a look, I now personify it. Donal’s expression changes, his half-smile slides away. Again, it’s like he can read my mind.
‘I’m really happy for you . . . I’m just . . .’
Jealous.
There she is. That voice in my head. I’m aware the silent couple beside us are now staring at us and it’s a little uncomfortable having this very private conversation in the open. I feel my face redden. But once again Donal protects me.
‘You’re just a nervous wreck about seeing Logan, I get it. Okay, I’ll tell you more about Emmanuela, later?’ Donal tilts his head very discreetly towards the couple next to us.
‘If that’s all right?’ I’m relieved, because to be honest, I don’t know what I’m feeling right now.
‘Of course. We’ll walk up Baggot Street to the House bar from here. It’s such a beautiful evening.’ His long fingers link the chain around his neck and he shifts it, he’s fidgety. Is he uneasy now?
‘If you’re sure that’s okay to tell me all about her later?’ I offer in appreciation.
‘’Course,’ he repeats, releases the chain, scratches his beard and picks up his pint.
‘That’d be better.’ I’m soothed inside as I lean across. ‘Listen, I’m really happy if you’re happy, and to be honest, I don’t know what’s going to happen with Logan tonight. I’m more confused than ever.’
‘That’s perfectly normal.’ And then there seems to be an unexpected release of all tension as he sits back and smiles at me.
‘Let’s have some fun with this pair?’ I nod to the couple beside us. My eyes widen and he immediately sniggers.
‘You start.’ His eyes sparkle with the devilment. We really are in tune.
‘So are we still aiming for midnight?’ I ask in a raised, anxious whisper.
‘That’s when the coast will be clear,’ Donal hisses back, tying his hair back now into a low ponytail with an elastic band that’s left a deep indent on his wrist.
‘Do you think they will call the Guards?’ I ask, my words in breathy gasps.
Donal raises his eyebrows high. ‘Not if we’re really careful. We don’t want a repeat of last time!’
‘You had blood on your hands,’ I deliver in a dramatic whimper.
‘And no soap left in the bathroom.’ Donal holds his palms in front of him, curls them up as though traumatised. Still, the silent couple listen to our every word.
I’m starting to crack.
‘But the money is safe?’ I manage. I’m biting the sides of my cheeks.
‘With the drugs. For now.’ Donal jerks his head over his left shoulder and then his right as though terrified someone was coming up behind him.
And that’s when I see the man raise his hands to sign to the woman, and she smiles at him lovingly, leans across and kisses him tenderly on the lips. They begin a conversation in sign language as he signals for the bill.
‘Oh no,’ I mouth to Donal. I can feel my face flushing red.
‘Oh no,’ Donal says back to me. ‘Like we think we’re that interesting.’ He drops his head.
‘They were texting each other. They were talking,’ I say, as I catch the girl’s eye and smile warmly at her. She smiles back.
‘Balls. Never judge a book, Donal. It’s my fucking motto; it’s how I live my life, and I just failed at it horribly,’ he says, mightily unimpressed with himself I can see, as he rarely swears.
‘We both did,’ I admit, feeling embarrassed also.
He makes his claw, pulls his hair back. ‘I hate that I did that.’
He’s still berating himself as our food arrives in front of us. I pick up the bottle of soy sauce, dollop a load on top of my thick noodles, pick up my chopsticks and mix the chicken and prawns and steamed broccoli.
Donal adds his extra fresh chillies. It’s all so familiar. It’s all so relaxing.
‘Let’s focus on you now. You want Logan back. That’s what you want, right?’ Donal says his name again but now it sounds so strange on his lips.
I balance a prawn between the slim black sticks. ‘You think I’m an idiot?’
He holds my eye across the table. ‘No. But tell me this? This I am curious about. How does the future look to you?’ He asks the million-dollar question that I don’t have the answer to.
‘I’m still working that bit out. I was just waiting for him to come back . . . to talk . . . and now he’s back.’
Donal holds my eye. ‘But he’s back for his sister’s party, right?’
‘Well, Mia said he was back for an audition, actually. She only found out after she posted the invites.’ I mix my food around some more, inhaling the toasty, smoky smell from the noodles being stir-fried in a hot wok.
Donal nods. ‘So this is his first time back in Dublin since he left you on your wedding day?’
It’s the first time I’ve thought about that. ‘I dunno,’ I admit. I absolutely need to ask Mia that later.
Donal uses the fork to mix his food. ‘Does he still try to contact you?’
Again, I push my noodles around my plate with the chopsticks. ‘He knows I don’t want a phone interaction.’
A thin slice of beef dangles from his fork now. ‘But he could have emailed or sent a letter?’ He pops it in his mouth, chews as he waits for my answer.
I lift the sticks to my mouth, slide a prawn in but I find it hard to chew, so I nod.
‘I’m not judging you, Grace, at all . . . I just think you deserve better than a guy who can walk out on you the way he did.’ Donal sits back, rolling his shoulders.
‘You don’t know me. You don’t know him.’ I feel the anger rising and the prawn gets stuck in my throat. I lift my beer and take a drink, swallow it down.
Donal sits forward again, lifts his own beer. ‘Okay . . .’ He nods slowly. ‘Sorry.’
‘It’s fine,’ I say.
‘It’s not, I’ve upset you,’ he says quietly.
‘Let’s just drop it,’ I say, because it’s all hitting home and I’m feeling slightly unsure.
‘Right you are.’ Donal adds more fresh chillies as I search out some chicken, thankful for the excuse to think and chew.
‘You can’t help who you fall in love with.’ I spray my fingers wide across my mouth, covering it as I swallow the magnificent, flavoursome ginger and pickle, which serenade my tastebuds.
Donal starts to cough. He holds his neck. Is he choking? I think for a second then I jump up.
‘Chillis!’ he croaks, and I hand him his beer by the handle and sit back into the bench.
He composes himself, wipes his brow with a napkin.
He looks at me, runs his hand down his beard with his free hand, cradling his pint in the other.
Then he drinks, froth lingering on his beard above his top lip, his eyes curious, a wrinkled brow.
He’s so lovely.
‘I really like you, Donal. I’m so glad you’re with me tonight,’ I tell him truthfully, and it’s just straight from my heart.
He puts down his beer. ‘You do?’ A mini grin starts slowly at the corners of his mouth, then spreads widely, totally lighting up his face and showing those perfectly straight white teeth of his. Leaning back in his chair, he hooks his hands behind his head.
‘I do.’ I smile back. It feels so good.
‘Really?’ Confusion appears across his body language as his eyes narrow and his head moves from side to side in his cupped hands.
‘Really! Now, eat!’ I tip my chopsticks off his bowl. ‘This is your favourite!’
‘I will . . . I will. It’s just it’s so nice to hear, because you know I think you’re . . .’ He bites his bottom lip. ‘Careful, Donal,’ he checks himself, closes his elbows in tightly around his ears.
‘What?’ I say. I really want to know.
He inhales deeply. Drops his arms now. ‘Ahhh, I think you’re amazing, Grace, honestly, it’s been such a long time since I’ve felt this comfortable with a woman.
Look . . . I know you don’t fancy me and that you want Logan back, and as much as I’d love to continue this –’ he throws a hand in the air above us, points his index finger and makes circles with it ‘– I think it would be fake on my part because I fancy you like crazy and I don’t want to be that guy.
’ He exhales deeply through his open mouth.
I swallow hard. ‘What guy?’
‘The one who pretends friendship is enough, in the hope that one day you’ll see me in a different light. I’m too straight for that. I’m too honest.’
My stomach flips. ‘I understand,’ I say, but I want to say more.
‘It’s been forever, ya know, since I had these .
. . feels.’ An effusion of warmth and honesty.
‘But this is good!’ He sees my face. ‘I’m delighted I’m feeling this way, I didn’t know if I could again, after Ella.
Obviously you are stunning, but I genuinely don’t care about looks.
I just want a connection with someone, to share my life with someone, same sense of humour, similar interests, share a laugh, eat great food, travel, watch movies in the darkness of a cinema .
. . And you’ve made me realise that is possible again.
It’s why I asked Emmanuela for a second date .
. . she is really nice . . . she isn’t you, but let’s see if it can grow.
’ He says all this matter of fact. He’s not looking for a response from me, I realise, as he bends over his Beef Ramen bowl hungrily.
And I look at the top of his red hair feeling like I’ve just had a punch to my stomach.