Chapter 19
Ally jumped off the packed Luas and dodged her way through the crowds across Smithfield Square until she could see the familiar facade of The Owl’s Nest, dark and shuttered.
Parked outside it was Pete’s van. She broke into a run, filled with relief, as she headed towards it, causing him to switch on the headlamps, practically blinding her.
She climbed into the high cab next to him and slammed the door with a sigh.
‘Hey, you look fancy in your work gear. What’s this, Receptionist Barbie?’
‘More like Fired Barbie, whatever that looks like.’
‘What? You’re joking?’
‘Don’t even ask, Pete, just let me snuggle this puppy.’ Patsy had stuck his wet nose through the gap between the seats. ‘Let’s choose the fuck out of this Christmas tree for our friend Dave. Because that’s the only thing I can think of to do right now.’
Pete chuckled ruefully. There was something so easy in his manner and she felt like . . . kissing him. They smiled at each other.
‘It’s good to see you again, Ally.’
‘You too.’ Still, there was a knot of sadness in her stomach that shouldn’t really have been there . . . but there it was.
Like the time in the car with William, watching someone drive said so much about their character.
Pete was confident; he saw a gap in the traffic and moved deftly.
They chatted but she knew he was concentrating at the same time on everything around him.
She glanced sidelong at his square jaw highlighted by the orange streetlights and noticed how a muscle twitched with some underlying tension.
‘Do you want to listen to some music?’ he asked.
‘Sure, like what?’
‘Classical or modern?’
Wow, that wasn’t a question she’d expected from Pete, then felt bad for thinking that.
‘Right now, I need something upbeat. Something happy.’
He smiled and tapped his phone. A minute later, ‘Sweet Home Alabama’ by Lynyrd Skynyrd filled the van, followed by ‘Carry on Wayward Son’ by Kansas, and then ‘Don’t Fear the Reaper’ by Blue ?yster Cult.
‘Oh my God, Pete, this is the best driving playlist ever. Can we take a quick spin down the M50 and back to hear what else is on there?’
He grinned. ‘Too late, we’re here.’
They wandered round a vacant lot with hundreds of Christmas trees, as Patsy tottered along on the lead, sniffing everything at his tiny level excitedly.
Beside them, parents and kids picked out their family Christmas tree.
Ally couldn’t help feeling the pang that this wasn’t going to be a family Christmas for either of them. Not with families of their own anyhow.
‘What is it about Christmas trees that makes you feel ten again?’ Pete smiled but she didn’t answer. It struck her that being ten might have been a very different experience for the two of them. After a bit of toing and froing, they chose a medium-sized tree.
‘What about a huge fuck-off one that’ll make everyone feel euphoric?’ suggested Ally.
‘Better leave room for the customers. His profits are tight enough,’ said Pete.
Between them, they carried it back to the van and stored it in the back.
‘I don’t suppose you’ve time for a drink?’ said Pete. ‘I know a pup-friendly pub.’
Oh God, would she? But she didn’t need to say a word – they simply exchanged an ‘are you kidding?’ glance and set off.
* * *
The Hole In The Wall pub, alongside the Phoenix Park, was likely visible from Mars, such were the blazing Christmas decorations.
They strolled the short distance from the van, past light-up reindeers, inflatable snowmen and strings of flashing lights culminating in a massive neon ‘Ho-Ho-Ho’ across the entrance, which was pretty bloody ironic after the day she’d had, Ally mused.
Thankfully, they arrived just as someone was leaving and managed to bag a table, squeezing into a bench against the wall, where Ally held the seat while Pete went to buy the drinks.
He came back surprisingly quickly. Sneaking a glance at him as he shouldered through the packed pub with his five o’clock shadow and expensive-looking aviator jacket, Ally felt proud of him, even if he wasn’t actually her boyfriend .
. . He was definitely drawing some admiring looks, and not just from the women.
Oh, well, they were friends, and she really liked being with him, so if that’s how things were going to work out between them, then that was fine.
Friends was how they’d started out, and friends was how they could go on, despite experiencing a twist of what she could only describe as .
. . grief. What a weird thought, she scolded herself.
‘Wow, that was quick! I’d still be up there, all five foot five of me, being ignored. Just shows how being a tall guy gets you places in this world.’
‘I don’t know about that,’ he said ruefully.
At least Patsy seemed quite at home in the noisy, crowded pub, having grown up among the customers in The Owl’s Nest. Nevertheless, Ally picked him up and cuddled him, probably more for her own sake than his.
Predictably, he became a magnet for all the half-cut drinkers, full of bonhomie and pre-Christmas pints.
‘Ah, isn’t he a lovely little fella, and you’re not so bad yourself, miss! ’
It just showed how cuddling a dog automatically made people assume you were a lovely person. God, she thought, if I were planning a heinous crime, first thing I’d do is get the fluffiest possible doggie to avert suspicion.
Pete sat beside her while Patsy, after a few spins, fell asleep on her knee.
Closing her eyes, Ally too let the craziness of the day recede for a moment.
Pete seemed to be having a similar experience; and rather than start a lively conversation, they just leaned against each other and felt the comfort of their breath.
‘We’re like a pair of shipwreck survivors,’ she muttered at last.
‘So, Fired Barbie, would you like to tell me more about what happened?’
Ally took him through the events of the day and how Georgina had simply dismissed her, albeit regretfully.
‘I don’t know, Pete, is it me? That’s the second time in a few weeks that I’ve found myself literally packing up my things and being kicked out of a job. What’s wrong with me?’
Pete listened to the whole story carefully, without interrupting or trying to problem-solve. When she’d finished, he gazed at her intently.
‘You haven’t done anything. Well, OK, definitely not this time.’
She smiled.
‘It sounds like a lousy experience, and I should know – I’ve had a few of them recently. Are you all right?’
‘Not really.’
‘All I can say is that maybe it’s leaving a space for something else.’ The words were left hanging in the air.
She realised it was only now, when it was all over, that she could actually allow herself to think about it. What would she tell her mum? She stayed leaning against the rough leather of his jacket. Please, oh please, don’t cry, not in the jolliest pub in the world.
‘It just shows, Pete, sometimes you can do all the right things, but it still won’t work out.’
He nodded and looked away. ‘Tell me about it.’
OK, time to cheer things up a bit, she decided. As her mindfulness app said, they’d never have this moment again, so don’t waste it.
‘So, how was your day? Better than mine, I hope?’
He did that exhale-laugh thing that wasn’t really a laugh. ‘My day was . . . complicated.’
Ally raised a quizzical eyebrow, and he hesitated.
‘I may as well tell you. I had a call from my ex . . . about Christmas.’
Ally’s heart dropped. ‘Oh. Does she want you to come back for it?’
‘Let’s say, it was suggested.’
After everything she’d put him through. Oh no, she could feel Pete starting to grow distant and detached like he had that Sunday morning. But what right had she to care?
‘And are you going to, Pete?’ She was trying hard to sound casual and emotionally neutral.
He shrugged.
‘So . . . do you want to? What d’you think would be best for you?’ Stay in the friend zone. She was trying really hard to be objective, even though every fibre of her was fighting it.
‘I’d love to see the boys, of course . . . and I will take them out . . .’
‘Look, Pete, maybe this isn’t for me to say, but . . . maybe you need to start taking care of yourself. What about your business partner?’
‘Tony?’
‘I don’t want to intrude, but where is he? What’s happening with him?’
‘He was in Spain. Now . . . I don’t know.’
‘But surely the police can still pick him up?’
‘He . . . he has a boat, it’s a forty-five-foot yacht – yep, that’s the sort of life we used to have – so he can pretty much live off the grid.’
‘In winter? I’m a layperson, obviously, but wouldn’t that be a bit choppy?’
Pete sighed. ‘Tony’s no fool. They can find a place to dock for the bad weather . . . Turkey, somewhere like that . . . Greece maybe.’
‘God, sounds a lot better than miserable old Ireland.’
‘You’d be surprised,’ he said. ‘Right this minute I wouldn’t swap with him.’
Had she heard that right?
‘Still, he’s a felon, isn’t he? Have you got a lawyer?’
‘My bank accounts are frozen, remember? Lawyers cost money.’
‘My sister is a solicitor – a good one. Why don’t you come and talk to her? I know she wouldn’t mind.’
‘Thank you, Ally. But—’
‘Yeah, I know, it’s not my problem, but I can’t just watch, as your friend, and say nothing. OK, I’m going to come straight out with it: why isn’t that house being sold and the assets divided fairly? I mean . . . sorry, but they’re not even your biological children.’
It was out before she could stop it. Oh crap. Had she blown it? But she just couldn’t let another injustice pass unchallenged. Then something struck her like a runaway truck . . . Could she be reading this all wrong? Was he just waiting to go back to them? What if that was why he hadn’t moved on?
Pete glanced at her sharply, then shook his head.
‘Selling the house wouldn’t sort anything, it’d only make things worse. If the company assets were freed up, the house wouldn’t even be an issue.’