Chapter 4
The rain was coming down in sheets, gushing from overflow pipes and pouring onto the pavements, forming huge puddles and filling Luca’s leaky boots as he trudged along.
He had been up until four in the morning, working on a piece, and he was so fucking tired he could barely lift his feet.
The hard concrete of the pavement even started to look inviting, and he was almost tempted to lie down on it, curl up and close his eyes.
He couldn’t get any wetter than he was already.
If he’d been heading towards warmth and comfort, he might have had the energy to keep going, but the prospect of his cold, dismal flat didn’t offer much incentive.
He shouldn’t have bothered coming out tonight, he thought, as he squelched through puddles.
It had been a complete waste of time. He’d thought he would at least get something to eat, but those pathetic canapés wouldn’t have fed a bird and he was starving.
His stomach was hollow and his saturated clothes clung to him.
He was so miserable, he wanted to cry. He should have ignored that stupid wanker Philip and let Yvonne give him the money for a cab.
Out of the corner of his eye, he became aware of a car slowing beside him, keeping pace with him as it drove along by the edge of the pavement.
Great. Now he’d picked up some pervy curb-crawler.
That was all he needed. He heard the peep of a horn, but kept his eyes fixed straight ahead, forcing himself to put one foot in front of the other.
The horn honked again and he turned this time, dredging up the energy to tell whoever it was to fuck off.
But then he saw that girl from the bar – Claire – peering at him through the window and beckoning him towards the car.
Christ, had she followed him? Why couldn’t they all just leave him alone? Sighing heavily, he waded across to the car and bent to the window.
‘Get in,’ she called, waving at him through the steamed-up glass. She leant across and opened the door. ‘I’ll give you a lift.’
‘No, thanks, I’m fine.’ He made to close the door again, but she put her hand against it, holding it open.
‘Don’t be silly. Get in. You’ll be soaked.’
‘I’m already as wet as I can get. Besides, I’ll ruin your seat.’
‘It’s just a bit of water. The seats are leather. It’ll wipe off.’
Of course the seats were leather, he thought wearily.
He wanted to tell her to get lost, embarrassment at her catching him out in his lie about taking a cab making him prickly.
Besides, he’d had enough of that lot tonight to last him a lifetime, and he really didn’t fancy spending another five minutes with any of them.
He was in no mood to be patronised by her.
But the desire to sit down was overwhelming, and he could already feel the warmth seeping from inside the car. It was too much to resist.
‘Okay, thanks.’ He shut her door and walked around to the passenger side.
‘So, where to?’ she asked, as he slid in beside her.
‘Where are you going?’
‘I live in Ranelagh but—’
‘Well, don’t go out of your way. I live just off Mountjoy Square, so drop me wherever’s convenient.’
‘No, I’ll drive you home,’ she said, as she pulled back into the traffic, with a little frown of concentration. ‘I thought you were going to get a cab.’
‘I couldn’t find one,’ he said tersely. ‘I decided it’d be quicker to walk.’
Thankfully she nodded and didn’t call him out on the taxis that were all around them, their yellow lights glowing into the dark, signalling that they were free. At least she had the decency to let him keep a little of his dignity.
‘You don’t have any money, do you?’ she asked.
So much for letting him keep his dignity. He leant his head back wearily and said nothing.
‘For a cab, I mean?’ she persisted, glancing across at him. ‘You didn’t have any money for a cab, did you?’
Jesus, couldn’t she let it go? ‘No, I didn’t have any money for a cab,’ he admitted.
‘Why didn’t you say? One of us would have lent it to you.’
‘Because I couldn’t pay it back.’
‘That wouldn’t matter.’
‘It wouldn’t be a loan, would it, if I didn’t pay it back?’
‘Well, one of us would have given it to you, then. Whatever.’
‘I don’t want handouts.’
‘It’s nothing to be ashamed of, you know – not having money.’
‘I know that,’ he said snappily. So why did he feel so fucking mortified? Still, it was easy to say that when you had money.
‘Damn,’ she muttered. ‘This traffic is awful.’ It inched along, bumper to bumper, the rain pounding the roof. It made the atmosphere inside the car claustrophobic. ‘How do you know Yvonne?’ she asked.
‘We grew up near each other, hung out with the same crowd.’
Just then her mobile rang and she answered it on speaker. It was Yvonne, checking if she’d got home safe.
‘I’m still stuck in traffic, but I’ll get there,’ Claire said. ‘Have fun. And thanks again for tonight. I had a lovely time.’
He noticed she didn’t mention having picked him up. ‘Why do you do that?’ he asked as she hung up and tossed the phone back into the centre console.
‘Do what?’
‘Why did you tell Yvonne you enjoyed yourself? You were miserable.’
‘Was it that obvious?’
‘Don’t worry. Most people don’t really pay attention to anyone else.’
‘It wasn’t really my scene.’
‘So why say you had a great time?’
‘It’s called manners,’ she said tightly.
They drove in silence for another few yards. She seemed nervous, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel when they weren’t moving.
‘How long have you been living in town?’ she asked eventually, and he got the impression she had spent the entire silence coming up with something to say.
‘You don’t have to do that, you know.’
‘Do what?’
‘Make small talk the whole way.’
‘Oh. Okay.’
They lapsed into silence, and she seemed to relax a bit. She spoke again only to ask directions when they got to Mountjoy Square.
‘This is it,’ he said, as they pulled up outside his building. He was relieved to see it wasn’t too bad tonight. There was just one skanky couple across the street ripping ten shades of shite out of each other, and a lone drunk swaying in the doorway. It could have been worse. It usually was.
‘You live here?’ she said, peering up at the tall Georgian house.
‘Yeah,’ he said, opening the door for a quick getaway, one foot already on the pavement. ‘Thanks for the lift,’ he said, over his shoulder, as he got out. ‘Bye!’
‘Um, hang on.’ She leant across and spoke to him through the open door. ‘Do you think I could come in and use your loo? I’m desperate, and you see what the traffic’s like. It’ll be ages before I get home.’
‘Oh well…’ He huffed. Sweet Jesus, could this night get any worse?
He’d told her not to go out of her way, but she wouldn’t listen.
He’d known he’d regret taking the lift. But he couldn’t very well say no, could he?
He’d have to let her come in, and then she’d see how he lived.
He wanted to curl up and die at the thought.
‘Please?’ she said, grimacing painfully for emphasis. ‘I’m about to have an accident.’
‘If you don’t mind leaving your car here,’ he said, hoping the dodgy neighbourhood would scare her off. ‘There may not be much left of it when you get back.’
‘I’ll have to take my chances,’ she said, turning off the ignition.
‘Okay,’ he said. Play it casual, he told himself.
This was where he lived and, as she had said herself, being poor was nothing to be ashamed of.
If she insisted on coming in, she would just have to take him as she found him.
Besides, she wouldn’t be there long. She wouldn’t have time for a good look around.
Once she’d used the loo, she’d probably leg it out of there as fast as her lovely long legs could carry her.
It wasn’t as if he had to make her tea or anything. Wait… did he have to make her tea?
He opened the front door, studiously ignoring the drunk, who was belting out what sounded like a mash-up of ‘The Fields of Athenry’ and ‘Poker Face’ at the top of his lungs.
Once inside, he rolled his eyes at Claire to make a joke of it.
He wanted to rush her upstairs so she wouldn’t have time to take in the mangy hall with its noxious smells and hair-raising noises.
But he decided to give her a break and knocked on the door of his neighbour, Joseph, a Nigerian, who lived in the first flat with his wife and baby daughter.
Joseph stuck his head out in answer to his knock, opening the door fully when he saw who it was.
‘Luca!’ He beamed.
‘Hi, Joseph. Sorry to bother you. Could you do me a favour?’
‘Of course. What can I do for you?’
‘My friend’s just coming upstairs for a minute,’ he said, indicating Claire, who waved hello. ‘She’s left her car out front. Could you watch it for me?’
‘Sure, no problem.’ He smiled at Claire, ducked inside for a moment, then stepped into the hall carrying a huge colourful umbrella and closed the door behind him.
‘Thanks. We won’t be long,’ Luca said, as he led Claire to the stairs.
‘That’s not something to boast about, Luca,’ Joseph said, laughing as he went to the door.
‘Thanks,’ she said, as she followed him up the stairs. ‘For getting him to watch my car. I really can’t afford to lose it.’
Luca shrugged. He wasn’t being entirely altruistic. If anything happened to her car, he’d be stuck with her until she got a taxi.