Chapter 21 #2
What the actual fuck was it Fleur did, anyway?
Just then Rosemarie’s voice resonated from behind Ally.
‘Francis, it’s yourself. I haven’t seen you since last time you were here.
’ There was something in her tone that unnerved him, and he agreed that it was indeed a long time, and yes, indeed, a big coincidence.
‘What about a selfie to celebrate the day? Lean in, guys . . .’
There wasn’t much they could say, so to Ally and Francis’s discomfort, and Fleur’s obvious chagrin, Rosemarie snapped all of them against a backdrop of two young lads giving them the finger from outside the window.
‘Fabulous, God, you all look great,’ she gushed.
What the hell was she up to? wondered Ally. Feeling like a cat trying to escape from the clutches of a marauding toddler, Ally made a beeline for the counter, where she found herself ambushed by William.
‘So, listen, Ally, I never got a chance to chat to you. Thanks a million for the day’s work, Fergus really appreciates it . . . We’re having fierce craic up there. God, your friend’s a live wire, isn’t she?’ he said affably.
Meanwhile, painfully aware of Pete’s eyes on her, Ally was being deliberately casual and jocular, avoiding any suggestion of intimacy between them.
What had she been thinking? She’d been obsessed with Fantasy William, and that had somehow got tangled up with Real William .
. . and now here was Francis, who had somehow turned into Fake Francis and arrived unexpectedly with Fleur just to add a sprinkle of fairy shite to the whole day .
. . And now they were both colliding with Very Real Pete.
‘Ally?’ She came to with a jolt to see William staring at her.
‘Oh sorry, Will, I must’ve gone into a micro-doze there. This morning feels like a long time ago, I’m afraid,’ she blurted. ‘So, what happened with the washing machine anyhow?’
‘Ah, not a bother. Ronan went out and changed the fuse, and sure, none of us were any the worse for it. Sorry about the dinner, though, it didn’t turn out quite like we’d hoped . . .’ There was no stopping him, she realised; he was chatting away at full volume.
She did a casual, larky laugh, but again, she could feel Pete’s eyes boring into her back. Just keep it light, she thought to herself . . .
‘Anyway, it looks like lunchtime is over. Good luck with round two!’ she bantered.
Rosemarie caught her on her way upstairs. ‘Ally, how does it look like it’s going?’ she hissed. Ally hadn’t a notion how it was going – her own life was way too stressful to leave any space for Rosemarie’s drama.
‘Erm, looks great to me. Why?’
‘I’m just not sure . . . I think it’s fine, but . . . it’s hard to tell.’
Ally picked up just how smitten she was with Fergus. This was no time for logic, just full-on positivity.
‘Don’t be daft, it’s going great, he really likes you. And no, I’m not just saying that.’ Reassured, Rosemarie followed the lads back upstairs.
Franny and Fleur were having a tête-à-tête that seemed to comprise nothing but sexy giggling. Or rather, she was giggling madly, which seemed to be infectious, like yawning.
‘So?’ The deep voice behind Ally made her jump. (Oh help, she wasn’t able for this . . .)
‘Pete?! God, I hope it’s all going well, I feel ridiculously responsible.’
He smiled guardedly.
‘Are these . . . close friends of yours?’ he asked pointedly. Oh shit.
‘Ah, they’re lads . . . They’re . . . gas,’ she blurted out, trying to distance herself from the situation as much as possible. Thankfully, he seemed to move on.
‘Your friend’s a good little worker, in fairness. I was sceptical but I’m surprised at how she got stuck in.’
‘That’s great to hear.’ Hormones were clearly turbocharging Rosemarie’s eagerness to throw herself into hard work.
But what could she say to connect with Pete?
She felt a million miles away from him right now, conversing awkwardly as though they barely knew each other.
Fuck, everyone else seemed to be doing fine but this whole day had really backfired on her.
He muttered something about getting on with it and clumped up the stairs. This was excruciating. How had she ever expected to get away with inviting William in without being exposed as a big tart?
She cleared away the tables, feeling self-conscious under Fleur’s gaze; she was doing a job that could be seen by some as low status, which really bugged her. How dare Fleur judge, anyway?
The lovebirds arrived up to the cash desk.
‘Ally, thank you soooo much for looking after us. I think this has become our favourite place. We’ve such romantic memories here, haven’t we, Franny?’
Fleur spoke in a floaty voice that would make any sane person want to puke.
Was it her imagination or was Francis looking evasive?
For a moment Ally wondered if the girl knew what happened and was busy making a point, but decided it was unlikely.
Still, she felt guilty. Fake as she found Fleur, the girl was entitled to have her relationship in peace.
* * *
The afternoon wore on with the soundtrack of continuous clunking and thumping coming from upstairs. A large chest of drawers was hauled down by William and Ronan. After that, she heard Rosemarie’s voice. ‘OK . . . OK . . . Fergus, I’ve got it.’
Ally stuck her head around the corner and saw an upright piano being shunted down the stairs between them, with Rosemarie at the lower end. To Ally it looked, frankly, dangerous. Suddenly, there was a yelp of alarm from Rosemarie.
‘Oh God, Fergus, it’s falling . . . I can’t hold it .
. . Help!’ Ally watched in horror as Rosemarie started to lose her footing on the stairs, and without thinking, she flung herself forward to take some of the strain, before realising in panic that the weight of the piano was far beyond both of their strength combined.
From nowhere, Fergus leaped onto the bannisters, past the piano, and then dropped down in front of it, wedging his full force against it . . . as it ground to a halt.
‘Laaads, get in here!’ he roared.
William and Ronan joined him, taking a place on either side of him.
‘Jaaaysus, my foot,’ howled Fergus.
‘Ah no, I warned you not to touch that! I said we’d do it at the end,’ hollered Pete, appearing at the top of the stairs and looking more freaked than she’d ever seen him.
Meanwhile, it was clear that Fergus’s ankle had borne the brunt of the runaway piano.
Ally and Rosemarie were clinging to each other, shaking with relief.
‘Come on, Fergus,’ said Pete, ‘get in the van, for God’s sake. I’m taking you straight into A she sensed his awkwardness.
Old Ally would have rushed in to reassure him, let him know he’d nothing to worry about . . . but where had that got her?
He inhaled. ‘’Course not . . .’
He clearly had feelings on the matter, and so did she, but she wasn’t going to be the one to blink, not when he could still go back to Tanya. If he wanted her then he had to reach out.
‘Well, it looks like your friend Rosemarie got what she came for.’ He grinned, changing the subject.
‘Kind of does, doesn’t it?’