Chapter 14
I’d done my best to hide from Mags since she’d arrived yesterday evening, not wanting her to pin me down about the job. It was surprisingly easy, with the pub we’d gone to last night being so loud, and with so many other people to talk to. But I knew that luck couldn’t last forever.
‘Does anyone want more coffee?’ asked Noah, standing up.
‘I’m good, thanks,’ I said, and Mags shook her head.
‘I’m going to get some more of that soda bread.’ Graham followed Noah, before I had time to ask for some.
I braced myself, waiting for Mags to ask if I’d made my decision, But to my surprise she just pointed at her plate.
‘This was hands down the best hotel breakfast I’ve had in ages.’
‘Tell me about it. I’m already looking forward to the same tomorrow.’
A silence hung over the table and Mags looked at her watch. She hadn’t stopped checking it since she’d sat down at the table.
‘Everything OK?’
She looked up, and planted one of her fake smiles on her face. The kind she’d always given to Francis at our old work.
‘Yeah, fine. Just got to send a few emails before we head out for the day.’
I nodded.
‘How did your meetings go yesterday?’
‘Productive.’ She ran her hand through her hair, fluffing out the ends. ‘But we shouldn’t talk about that. It’s your big birthday and I promised Noah there’d be no shop talk.’
She picked up her phone for a quick scroll and then put it down again, looking over her shoulder at where Noah was battling with the coffee machine.
This wasn’t like Mags. Promise or no promise, she’d usually be making the most of squeezing the conversation in until he came back. Not that I was complaining; it gave me more thinking time.
She followed my gaze. Her hands were almost shaking.
‘Lack of caffeine, I might just go and get another coffee. Do you want some?’
‘Um, no,’ I said, watching her get up. She was jittery and un-Mags like. An uneasy feeling washed over me. Like something was wrong.
‘I got you some soda bread,’ said Graham, popping a slice on my plate. ‘I know how much you like it.’
I was snapped out of my thoughts about Mags. There was me thinking he’d been selfish not offering, but instead he’d almost read my mind.
‘Thanks, just what I wanted.’
He raised his eyebrows at me and took a seat, looking proud.
Noah came back to the table alone, small coffee cup in hand, but he didn’t sit down.
‘Mags has had to go back to the room, so I’m going to head out too. I’ll see you in the lobby in half an hour, Luce?’
‘Sure.’
‘And good luck with the run, buddy.’ He tapped Graham on the shoulder. ‘Although I don’t think you’ll be running fast with that in your belly.’
‘Gotta stock up on the carbs,’ he said. ‘There’s got to be some perks for running fifteen miles.’
‘What’s my excuse?’ I asked.
Graham laughed. ‘Hotel breakfast included.’
‘Yes, that’s it.’ I dipped the fresh slice of soda bread into my runny egg, trying to push thoughts of Mags and how weird she was acting out of my mind.
Half an hour later, Noah and I were strolling away from Temple Bar.
‘At what point are you going to tell me what we’re doing?’
‘When we get there,’ he said with a shrug. ‘I don’t want you to change your mind.’
‘Is that a possibility? It’s not anything that I’m going to hate, is it? Am I dressed right?’
‘You look OK to me. I mean, the hat is a bit dodgy, but apart from that.’
I gave him a quick jab with my elbow.
‘It’s fashion,’ I said, tugging it down.
‘It’s something.’
‘At least my ears aren’t cold like yesterday.’
‘That’s true. And you’ve always got the option to be an extra in a gangster movie set in the twenties.’
‘I would make a fabulous moll,’ I said. ‘It’s like the one I wore in the school production of Bugsy Malone. But I mainly packed it because it’s wool and it’s warm.’
‘I know; I thought it was cold yesterday, but now it’s arctic.’
‘The Irish guy at work told me to come prepared, that you quite often get all four seasons in a day.’
‘I can well believe it.’
I still couldn’t wrap my head around being in Dublin. It felt so different to London. Everyone was still in a hurry but there wasn’t as much stress and no one seemed to blame anyone irrationally for holding everyone up.
We walked past an impressive stone building.
‘Is this where we’re going?’
‘Nope.’ He pulled out the map of the city that the hotel gave us. He squinted a little as he found the art museum on the map to get his bearings. ‘No, but we’re almost there.’
I wondered where we were going. Mum had headed off on her own for a full day of sightseeing – a literary walking tour, followed by a trip to the decorative arts museum – and Caz, Bertrand, Paul and Amy had headed to the gaol.
‘Before you ask, no, not there either,’ he said as we passed the large park.
‘Good, I hope it’s indoors.’
‘Well, you’re in luck.’ We rounded the corner. ‘Tadaa.’
He held his hand out and I read the sign chiselled over the door. ‘The National Museum of Natural History.’
‘Uh-huh, also known as The Dead Zoo.’
I screwed up my nose.
‘Yep, you’re going to love it. Forget all that CGI graphic stuff, this is proper old school, filled with—’
‘Dead animals.’ I shivered. ‘Hmm, you know I’ve heard really good things about that art gallery we walked past; you know, very famous pieces that would be a real shame to miss out on.’
‘Oh, is that, right?’ He folded his arm. ‘Go on then, name one.’
‘Name one what?’
‘Name one piece of art hanging in that gallery that we have to see.’
‘Um … well, there’s that Irish one … you know that’s really famous and culturally significant.’
‘Can you even name an Irish artist?’ The corners of his mouth were twitching.
‘Can you?’ I struggled to think of a single one. Musicians, plenty. Writers, heaps. But artists? ‘That’s surely the point – if neither of us can name an Irish painter; shouldn’t we go and educate ourselves?’
‘Lucy, what’s going on?’ He sounded like a teacher trying to coax a pupil into a confession.
‘I just think that it would be a better use of our time, than … ’
I looked at the natural history museum and shuddered.
‘Why don’t you want to go in there? Come on, it’s supposed to be great.’
‘But you said it yourself, it’s the Dead Zoo; how does that sound attractive to you?’
I turned my back on the museum, digging my heels into the ground and he started to laugh. At first it seemed like he thought I was joking but he stopped laughing and narrowed his eyes.
‘If you must know,’ I said, with a huff, ‘the animals freak me out.’
‘You’re kidding, right?’
I shook my head. ‘Nope, taxidermy scares me.’
I could barely say the word, let alone spend an afternoon looking at it.
‘Taxidermy scares you? What, like ladybirds?’
I bit my lip. The problem with friends is they always seemed to remember your quirks.
‘No, I don’t like ladybirds on me because I hate the way their tiny little legs tickle my skin and they’re poisonous.’
‘Actually, I looked that up. They’re only poisonous if you ingest them.’
I shut my eyes and gritted my teeth. ‘They still freak me out.’
‘So, what’s worse in the Lucy scale of irrational fears, ladybirds or taxidermy?’
‘Taxidermy. Every time.’
Noah laughed. ‘Well, then it’s time to conquer the fear. How does someone become scared of that anyway?’
I shivered again. ‘My nan had a taxidermy fox that lived in the hallway of her house and my cousin told me that it came to life at night.’
Saying it out loud sounded ridiculous and I knew that Noah was trying to keep a straight face.
‘Does that mean to say that you’ve never been to the Natural History Museum in London either?’
‘Nope. I was ill the day we went with the school.’
‘Ill?’ He didn’t do air quotes but they were implied. ‘I feel, it’s time to cure this fear.’
‘Noah.’
‘You’re brave enough to conquer this. It can’t be any worse than the time we ended up at that death metal gig.’
Now it was my turn to laugh. We thought we were going to The Killers at a secret gig, but it turned out we’d got the wrong end of the stick about The Axe Murderers.
He was right. I had to get over this. It might technically be my seventh birthday, but I wasn’t really seven like I was when my cousin tried to trick me.
I knew they weren’t going to come back to life.
‘OK, but no trying to make me jump, and if I see a fox … ’
‘Got it,’ he said, pursing his lips. ‘No foxes.’
‘And if it’s really bad, we’ll go to the art gallery?’
‘OK, deal.’ He took hold of my hand. ‘I’ve got you, OK.’
‘OK.’
‘They’re behind glass anyway, so even if they did come to life … ’
He started to laugh and I whacked him on the arm again.
Stepping into the museum was like stepping into a time machine back to the Victorian times.
I found myself not marvelling at the animals, which were just as freaky as I thought they’d be, but at how they’d interpreted the space.
We’d managed a loop of the bottom floor with only one close-call with a fox family, and headed upstairs where the views were quite spectacular.
‘I tell you, he’s looking at me,’ I said, walking one way and then the other, maintaining eye contact.
‘The moose is not looking at you.’
‘He is, look at how his eyes follow as I move.’ I shivered.
‘It’s just like the Mona Lisa; her eyes follow you wherever you go and she doesn’t freak you out.’
‘She does a bit.’
‘Huh, and you were the one that wanted to go to an art gallery.’
‘Yeah, maybe I’m not good with museums in general.’
‘Good to know, for the next birthday.’
‘You know, you lied,’ I said, looking over the balcony onto the main gallery below. ‘You said all the animals would be behind glass.’
‘I thought they would be.’ Noah leaned on the railing. ‘But it’s kind of cool being able to wander next to the bigger animals.’
‘Is it?’ I scrunched up my face.
‘You’re doing well, really. Aside from the foxes.’
‘The vixen had the same eyes as Felix.’
‘Felix?’
‘My nan’s fox.’
‘Why did your nan even have a taxidermy fox in the first place?’