Chapter 24
‘Ooh, you look very fancy, Luca,’ Jula said, as he emerged from the house the following Saturday.
It had been a beautiful day, and Jula and Danuta, the thin, almost translucently pale Polish girls who shared the basement flat, were sitting on the front steps enjoying the last of the evening sunshine and sharing a bottle of wine.
‘Where are you going? Big date?’
‘Party.’ He sat down on the step above them, placing his gift-wrapped parcel beside him. ‘It’s my sister’s birthday.’ He tilted his face towards the sun and closed his eyes, trying to relax. There was still warmth in the evening air.
‘You want a glass of wine?’ Danuta asked. He opened his eyes to find her waving the bottle at him.
‘No, thanks,’ he said, glancing at his watch.
‘Claire will be picking me up in a few minutes.’ It was still only seven fifteen, but he had been ready far too early, and he had become increasingly twitchy and anxious as he waited for her.
When he couldn’t handle any more antsy pacing around his flat, he’d decided to come down and wait outside.
‘Ah, your girlfriend?’ Jula smiled. ‘She’s pretty.’
Luca smiled. ‘Yeah, she is pretty. But she’s not my girlfriend.’
Jula and Danuta shared knowing smiles, but said nothing, and went back to their conversation.
Luca checked his watch again, but only a minute had passed.
It was ridiculous how nervous he felt, but he really didn’t want to go to his parents’ house.
He wouldn’t do it for anyone but Ali. Still, for her sake, he would grit his teeth and endure it.
He would even try to be pleasant and play the part of the loving and beloved son. As if he knew fuck all about that!
At least Claire would be with him, he thought.
It wouldn’t be so bad with her there. In a way, he was almost looking forward to it.
He liked the idea of his mother seeing him with Claire, this lovely, kind, decent girl who cared about him – even if it was just as a friend, and her heart belonged to Mr Perfect.
Childishly, he thought he could prove Jacqueline wrong, demonstrate to her that he was lovable, with Claire as his evidence.
He knew it was twisted, but he wanted to point up his mother’s inadequacies by flaunting Claire in front of her, so that she would finally realise that ‘It’s not you, it’s me. ’
Claire pulled up almost on the dot of seven thirty.
‘Goodnight, girls,’ Luca said to his neighbours, grabbing his parcel as he jumped up. He bounded over to the car. ‘Hello, gorgeous.’ He smiled at Claire as he slid in beside her.
‘Hi.’ She turned to him. ‘You look lovely.’
‘So do you.’ He leant in and kissed her cheek. She smelt amazing. ‘I wish we could blow out this party and just drive off somewhere together,’ he said, on an impulse.
‘You couldn’t do that to Ali. She’d be so disappointed.’
‘I know. I wouldn’t. But I’m really glad you’re coming.’
‘Well, I’m the one with the car and the beer money,’ she quipped. Then she blushed. ‘Sorry, that sounded awful. I didn’t mean—’
‘I know.’ He wasn’t offended. He knew she’d only said it because she couldn’t take a compliment and laughing it off was a reflex with her. ‘Anyway, it’s free booze. But I don’t think I could face it on my own,’ he said seriously, taking her hand. ‘So thank you.’ He kissed her knuckles.
‘You’re welcome,’ she said, and he was glad that for once she had simply accepted that he was happy to have her with him.
‘Okay,’ she said, starting the engine. ‘I think I know my way to Dalkey village, but you’ll have to give me directions from there.’
Claire usually avoided routes she didn’t know well, and she hadn’t driven to Dalkey very often.
It wasn’t helping her concentration that Luca was fidgety and restless, constantly shifting around in his seat, tapping his fingers on the dash or jiggling his legs.
She tried to ignore him and focus on where she was going.
‘It’s so beautiful out here,’ she said, as they drove along the coast road, glancing at the perfect blue sea dotted with coloured sails.
Summer had arrived at the beginning of June and seemed set to stay, with unbroken sunshine and soaring temperatures.
Everywhere people were out enjoying the weather, playing games, strolling along with ice-creams, or sitting outside bars and restaurants under bright awnings, their high-spirited chatter and laughter drifting through the car window.
‘Mm,’ Luca agreed distractedly, seeming oblivious to his surroundings.
‘We’re almost there. Turn right here.’ He pointed to a narrow road climbing away from the seafront and directed her along a hilly, twisting road lined with massive gated houses.
‘This is it,’ he said, indicating a set of wrought-iron gates standing open to the left.
The tree-lined gravel drive sloped towards the sea, turned right and opened out onto a paved area to the side of a tall double-fronted house.
‘Wow!’ Claire breathed, as she parked beside a black BMW. She couldn’t believe this was where Luca had grown up. ‘This is an amazing house,’ she said, peeping at him warily. He had gone very quiet.
He shrugged in reply and removed his seatbelt, but made no move to open his door. His agitation seemed to have been replaced by gloom, and she sensed he was reluctant to get out. She touched his leg, giving him a reassuring smile.
‘Right, let’s get this over with,’ he said, opening his door.
As Claire stepped out onto the drive, the sound of the waves on one side mingled with the buzz of the party on the other.
The location was stunning. The house clung to the cliff, nothing between it and the broad sweep of Killiney Bay, breathtakingly beautiful panoramic views spreading out in every direction.
She went to the low stone wall at the edge of the garden and looked down to the beach at the bottom of the cliff, where foamy white waves crashed against the rocks.
She turned back to the house, which was fronted by a terraced garden dotted with tiled benches, flowerbeds and quirky sculptures, and planted with an abundance of shrubs.
Lanterns hung in the trees, and the deck around a large sunroom was strung with fairy lights.
Luca grabbed her hand, holding it so tightly it was almost painful as he led her towards the house.
‘Luca and Claire are here,’ Ali called over her shoulder, as she came barrelling down the steps that led to the front door. She threw her arms around Luca, and the tension seemed to leave his body, his grip on Claire’s hand relaxing.
‘Happy birthday, Ali,’ he said, kissing her cheek.
Ali released him and hugged Claire. ‘Thank you so much for coming. It’s lovely to have you here – both of you.’
‘Thanks for inviting me,’ Claire said. ‘Happy birthday!’
‘Come and meet Mum and Dad,’ Ali said, leading the way to the house.
Luca’s hand tightened around Claire’s again as they followed Ali up the steps to the open front door.
They stepped into a high-ceilinged hall with a wooden floor.
A large vase of tall white lilies on an elegant side table perfumed the air.
Claire recognised the slim blonde woman who came to meet them from her author photo.
‘Why don’t you do the introductions?’ Ali said to Luca. ‘I have to check on the caterers.’ She skipped off through a side door.
‘Claire, this is my – this is Jacqueline,’ Luca said, as he drew her forward. Claire noticed Jacqueline’s hastily disguised wince at his use of her name. ‘Jacqueline, this is Claire.’
‘It’s lovely to meet you, Claire.’ Jacqueline smiled as she extended her hand.
‘Nice to meet you too,’ Claire said stiffly, as they shook. She felt Jacqueline scrutinising her closely, as if she was trying to figure something out.
‘I wish I could say I’ve heard a lot about you,’ she said, ‘but I’m afraid it’s not true.’
‘There’s not much to tell,’ Claire said, blushing. ‘We’re not really—’
‘We haven’t been together very long,’ Luca interrupted, putting an arm around her waist and pulling her into his side.
Claire smiled helplessly, feeling wrong-footed.
‘This is my husband, Jonathan,’ Jacqueline said, as a tall, lean man joined them in the hall. Grey-haired and handsome, he was considerably older than his wife. ‘Jonathan, this is Luca’s… friend, Claire.’
‘Pleased to meet you,’ he said, as he shook her hand, eyeing her as curiously as his wife had done. ‘Hey, Luca,’ he said, pulling him into a hug.
‘Why don’t you take Claire upstairs, Luca, and show her where everything is?’ Jacqueline said. ‘We’re putting jackets in your old bedroom. Then come down and join everyone in the sunroom.’
Upstairs, Luca showed Claire into his room.
While she ducked into the en-suite to fix her hair and makeup, he went to the window and stared out at the sea.
He wished he could have brought Claire here and shown her all this as something that was a part of him, somewhere he belonged – the beautiful house, his clever, talented family and the lovely life they led.
But it was nothing to do with him. He felt as much a guest as she was – just as welcome, just as superfluous, every bit as much of an outsider.
It highlighted how little he had to offer on his own account, and it struck him how bare and bleak his life must seem to her, how rich hers was by comparison – not just materially, but in people who cared about her and would always be there for her.