Chapter 11 #2
‘That’s enough,’ he bellowed, standing on a beer crate and waving a phone. ‘I’m calling the Guards.’
‘They are the Guards,’ shouted Rosemarie over the din.
‘I’m fucking calling them anyway.’
Anyone who didn’t have a vested interested in being part of the fight was trying to push backwards out of the way.
In the intervening minute, Crystal appeared to have attached herself to an off-duty sergeant and was trying to cling to his arm like a drug dealer’s moll.
Ally could see that William, clearly dazed from the blow he’d received, was struggling to get back on his feet and obviously in trouble.
Without a thought, Ally pitched into the mill, grabbed him by the arm as he scrambled to his feet, and the two of them stumbled towards the exit.
She was certainly getting close to him tonight, just not in the way she’d expected.
In the meantime, Crystal’s sergeant was using his authority to break up the scrap, as blue flashing lights were already visible through the window.
‘Come on, let’s get out of here,’ said Rosemarie.
The three of them made for the door, only to find themselves face to face with two Gardaí in uniform.
‘Where d’you think you’re going?’ demanded the older-looking one. ‘Come back here, we might need witnesses.’
Oh God.
It turned out that all the Guards recognised each other and clearly nobody was going to get arrested that night.
Crystal, who seemed to have volunteered herself as chief witness, claimed it was all a misunderstanding so, in the end, names were taken but there was no appetite to charge anyone with affray.
William’s mates, who were looking decidedly the worse for wear, were banding together, as each took a side of the concussed-looking William.
‘It’s OK, we’ve got him, thanks,’ said Fergus. ‘Never leave a man behind.’
He seemed to have completely forgotten about Rosemarie’s projectile cocktail and that his hair was starting to dry into a sticky helmet. Ronan, on William’s other side, seemed to be still shaking with adrenalin.
‘They were younger, fitter, trained killers . . .’ he declared.
Which seemed a slight exaggeration.
‘But we’re still standing,’ finished Fergus, emotionally. ‘This night will not be forgotten.’
He had a trickle of blood running from a cut above his eyebrow.
There was a murmur of assent between the three, and they staggered off into the night.
* * *
‘Well, that was fucking dreadful,’ said Rosemarie mildly, as though she’d been an accidental onlooker and hadn’t actually started the whole thing. ‘Will we go and get a burger?’
They sat opposite one another in Romayo’s fast-food joint, munching their way through a burger and chips, and to hell with calories tonight. It was all too upsetting for Ally to even dream of restraint. Rosemarie was humming and jigging on her seat.
‘It’s my happy food dance,’ she declared. ‘But the thing is,’ she went on through a mouthful of chips, ‘until Fergus insulted me, I was actually thinking he was a bit of a ride. Do you not think when a man is bleeding a bit, it makes him even sexier?’
‘Never occurred to me. I was looking at William. Do you know what? Away from all my crazy shit, he’s actually a really nice guy. I mean, he’s really pretty good-looking, I could bring him home to Mum and Dad.’
‘Careful, Ally. Don’t start, this is you now . . . I’m watching the signs – you’re pleasing your family.’
Ally sighed. How could she ever hide anything from Rosemarie?
‘What is it about that male bonding, though? I kind of get the feeling that William would always be happier with his gang than with me.’
‘Naaa, that’s just until they meet the right girl.’
There was something star-crossed about her connection with William. All of their meetings had resulted in some sort of disaster. She expressed this to Rosemarie.
‘D’you think that’s just a coincidence?’
Rosemarie looked thoughtful. ‘Well, what I have noticed is that you have to work very, very hard at being with him.’
It was true – after all, Ally’d grown up in a family that prized hard work and effort above all else, so she wasn’t put off. But . . . maybe love was different, and maybe it didn’t all have to be so hard.
Just then, she practically hit the ceiling at a sharp rapping on the window right beside her.
‘Feck!’ she exclaimed as, right at eye level, waving madly in at the two of them, was Crystal.
‘Oh Jesus God, we’re pinned. We can’t escape,’ moaned Rosemarie.
A moment later Crystal swept into the restaurant, brandishing her phone.
‘Oh my God, girls, it is trending on TikTok, #RyansFight. Look!’
Delightedly, she began scrolling through a series of videos featuring various views of the brawl.
One of them prominently featured Ally’s arse as she bent down to help William up.
It only then dawned on Ally that one of the reasons people were pushing backwards was to get a better angle from which to film.
‘Oh, look, there’s a very good one of you, Ally – you’ve a great profile.
Sorry, Rosie, I didn’t catch you doing the drink-throwing thing, it was all over too fast. Oh my God,’ she squealed in excitement like a sixteen-year-old.
‘It’s being shared . . . There’s nearly a thousand views already, it’s totally going viral. ’
Just then Ally’s phone rang. Oh, God, not her mother, please. She saw Pete’s number. Suddenly, her heart felt invaded by a samba band. Oh, help, her worlds were colliding. She inhaled for a moment, allowing the band to bloody well march off somewhere and leave her in peace to talk.
‘Hey . . .’ he said.
She could feel the warmth in his tone, which made a quiver run through her, causing her to shift in her seat.
‘My son just showed me a video on TikTok and there was someone—’
‘It was me, Pete. We got caught up in something.’
She could hear his chuckle.
‘I wouldn’t have had you down for such a wild social life. What the hell happened?’
In spite of herself, she was smiling.
‘Tell you when I see you.’
‘When will that be?’
‘The usual – 8 a.m. tomorrow?’
‘Sounds about right . . .’ That cute self-assured edge in his voice again.
‘OK, Pete, see you then,’ she said, as airily as possible.
Looking up, she became aware of two sets of eyes boring into her.
‘What?’
‘Who was that?’ burst in Crystal. ‘That is one sexy voice.’
‘Oh, just someone,’ said Ally in as nonchalant a tone as she could muster, while Rosemarie grinned like the cat who knew where the cream was hidden.
‘What’re you not telling us?’ shrieked Crystal, as though they were friends who shared secrets all the time. ‘When’re we going to get to meet him?’
Like fucking never ever, for as long as I draw breath, she thought.
‘Oh God, it’s not like that, not remotely – he’s just a guy I work with . . .’ she trailed off, which was about as evasive as she could manage.
‘He’s just a pal,’ broke in Rosemarie mischievously. ‘We all need pals.’
* * *
That night, lying in bed, she replayed the frightening sounds of fists hitting faces and shattering glass.
How could that erupt out of such a seemingly normal fun evening?
William being punched in the face, and her immediate impulse to jump in and save him?
A thought struck her: had Pete noticed anything?
He hadn’t mentioned it, but then, he wouldn’t, would he?
Guiltily, she contemplated what it said about William as a potential boyfriend.
Not to mention what it said about her feelings for Pete, but that felt too thorny, so she pushed the thought away.
In a way she’d been as close to William tonight as she’d ever been, and yet he still seemed .
. . somehow distant. How might it be if she actually got together with him?
But that was becoming way too realistic, so she changed the channel in her head.
As soon as she thought again about Pete, a stab of pain started in her chest, prompting her to rub the spot to soothe it.
And on top of everything was this wretched job of Mum’s, which had a feeling of inevitability.
What else could she do? What was there for her if she stayed on at The Owl’s Nest, but low pay and the stress of seeing Pete now the air felt charged?
The clock showed 3.15 a.m. The exact time when things appeared their most awful, and you had the least power to change them.
Not now, she reminded herself. Tomorrow would have to do.