Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
A stampede of wild jungle animals trampled over my alcohol-poisoned head, and I had that momentary panic of ‘where the fuck am I’, before opening my eyes to find John next to me.
Unwelcome flashbacks of the night before assaulted me.
The fresh air hit me (never mind the copious amounts of wine), resulting in me projectile vomiting into an unsuspecting blackberry bush on the walk home.
John had been a gentleman, of course, holding my hair and back, and reassuring me that he’d never seen anyone vomit in such a ladylike manner. He was probably ripping the piss out of me, but I was too drunk to notice or care at that stage. Just desperate to get to the safe haven that was his house.
I groaned internally, cringing at the hazy but persistent snippets resurfacing.
Something else was struggling to reach the surface of the shambles of my limited brain.
I must have killed thousands of brain cells in my twenty-seven years, with a variety of Pinot Grigio’s and Pinot Noirs depending on the season.
I preferred red wine in the winter by an open fire, and a refreshing glass of cool white wine on a warm summer's day. A wine for every occasion. Is it any wonder the girls called me a wino? I couldn’t wait to see how much they drink when they’d been married for seven years.
I scrunched my eyes tightly, trying to block out any other possible distraction, and fought hard to piece together the missing parts of the previous night.
It struck me in a flash; Papa Bear. I had a horrible feeling I proclaimed my love for his son.
Cringe.
No, wait, that wasn’t exactly right.
I tapped my fingers repeatedly on the side of the bed, a horrible habit I caught myself doing whenever I felt anxious.
The rhythmic drumming of each finger allowed me to feel some sense of control when that awful rush of anxiety invaded, which frequently occurred after consuming one too many fermented grape juices.
The memory returned in fragmented pieces. There had been others, but he’d not looked at them the way he looked at me.
I beamed like an idiot, despite my alcohol induced war wounds, and wriggled closer to John, who lay on the other half of his enormous bed. Tucking my knees in behind his, I placed my arms round his waist and buried my face into his back. He exhaled a small sigh and locked his fingers through mine.
The last twenty-four hours had been an eye-opener. I was head over heels in love with him, but that was nothing new at this stage. I’d felt it almost instantly. But in the darkness of the long nights when I was home, I knew the rational part of my mind would question if this was real.
Was he too good to be true?
How could I be in love with someone I’d only known a few short weeks?
How could I have fallen so hard, and so quickly?
And the most troubling one of all – was I setting myself up for the biggest fall of my life?
We lived in two different worlds, after all.
Thinking too long about it troubled me.
For the first time in my life, I’d followed my gut instinct. That overwhelming, burning urge in the pit of my stomach that willed me to go with the flow – to see where it led me.
And it led me to love.
Being in love was the most fabulous feeling in the world. I was ecstatic each time I saw his photo flash up on my mobile with an incoming call. He took up so much space in my head.
But alongside that intense ecstatic excitement also came an undeniable vulnerability.
Every day I fell further, meaning he had the weapons to slice me that bit deeper, if he should choose to do so. If he decided the distance was too much, or if he were to see something in me he didn’t like, as he had done before with my many predecessors.
With thoughts like these swirling round my head, troubled by worries about our future together, there was zero chance of falling back to sleep.
No matter how much I loved John, I couldn’t ever picture myself living there, in that tiny community. It wasn’t me. I would suffocate in a place like that. Everybody was entwined in one way or another, compared to the reassuring anonymity of the city.
Mind you, I nearly drowned in a sinking marriage before I realised I was the one holding the life jackets.
Maybe there was another way.
It was early days, but I toyed with the idea of looking for a job in Dublin. I could rent somewhere in the city, at least we’d be in the same country. It was less than a three-hour drive. And John seemed to be in Dublin regularly enough.
That was, if he ever wanted to see me again after I spewed up my steak and red wine, redecorating his beautiful, previously untouched countryside.
I crept out of bed to escape the horrors in my own head, pulled on his grey hoody and my dark jeans, and quietly exited the room on tiptoes, careful not to disturb sleeping beauty.
Downstairs, in the kitchen, the gleaming counter tops reflected my shameful hungover face back at me.
I pulled on my new pink Hunters and a body warmer I found hanging in the utility room and made my way out the back door into the fresh air.
The morning was overcast and breezy. I felt naturally drawn to the beach, to the rugged emerald of the unruly land and the familiar smell of abandoned seaweed, just as I was physically drawn to John. I wondered if this path had been mapped out for us by a higher source.
What were the chances of meeting the man of your dreams at three o’clock in the morning of a hotel bar while on a hen and a stag? Unlikely, but undeniable.
The cattle grazing nearby took no notice as I glanced approvingly at the solitude of my surroundings and inhaled the fresh morning air deeply, working on my breathing. Anxiety haunted me from the drink, but also from the strangeness of my new-found freedom.
I pulled myself onto a large rock overlooking the rock pools and pulled the body warmer tighter around me.
Surprisingly, I relished not being able to see or hear another soul. It was like staring at my very own slice of the world in that moment.
I was a long way from the city, but for the first time in my life it came as a relief. I felt strangely safe and sheltered from the responsibilities of the real world. A sense of comfort stemmed from the knowledge that I could escape everything and everyone, for a weekend at least.
I hadn’t realised quite how much I needed a break from my normal, if you could call it a normal, life.
Random mismatched thoughts whirred around my head, swirling like the waves of the ocean that I watched.
I contemplated the intensity of my connection with John. He was the yin to my yang, the gin to my tonic, and the strawberry to my champagne. Life was more colourful in his company.
It seemed too good to be true. But it wasn’t, not when I stripped it right back to basics.
His life was here, mine was across the water. My friends, my family (albeit only half of them were talking to me at present), my job.
The thought of starting again, whether it be here, Dublin, Edinburgh or anywhere else for that matter seemed increasingly unappealing. But I had a horrible feeling the magnetic pulling force drawing me to John might outweigh anything else in the end.
I couldn’t believe I’d found him. Whatever it took, long distance relationship or not, I had to go with it. I wasn’t going to lose him after working so hard to free myself in order to be with him. Though none of it was going to be easy.
A sense of calm enveloped me. I somehow persuaded my inner control freak to accept that I didn’t have to come up with all the answers today.
And I didn’t have to come up with them at all.
We did. I wasn’t in it alone. And that knowledge empowered me. I’d finally met my match, my equal.
‘So, this is where you’re hiding.’ John’s gruff voice broke the silence, startling me, from behind.
‘You frightened the life out of me!’ My hand clutched my chest, resting over my speeding heart.
‘Not nearly as much as you frightened me when you were gone from my bed when I woke up. I thought you were headed straight for Knock Airport after meeting The Fockers last night.’ He sniggered at his own joke, still witty despite his hangover.
‘Your parents are fantastic. I adore them.’
‘I’m fairly sure the feeling is mutual, Baby Bear.’’
‘I’m so sorry I was a state last night. I haven’t been sick like that with drink in years.’
‘Yeah, I tend to have that effect on women. It’s a fine line, you need to drink enough to find me attractive and a finer line again to be able to hold it down afterwards.
’ He climbed onto the rock next to me and put his arms round me protectively.
‘You’re the only woman in the world that can vomit gracefully.
’ He kissed the top of my head and wrapped his strong arms around me.
‘One of my many talents. And you are gorgeous. You know you are. Stop pulling the ginger card with me. Your father told me about all the pretty women you’d brought to the pub before.
’ I attempted to be light-hearted, but there was an element of curiosity apparent in my tone that, try as I might, I couldn’t disguise.
‘Did he happen to tell you they were all bat shit fucking crazy? For a ginger, I’ve been stalked more times than I can count.’
‘I can’t help but wonder about your past, seeing as everyone else around here seems to know more than me...’ It wasn’t that I wanted a detailed description, but I couldn’t help question why he was single. He was such a good catch.
For once, he abstained from his usual witty comeback, sensing my need for reassurance.
‘I don’t know what it is, to be honest. My parents always wanted to see me settled.
I dated loads of girls. I’ve kissed a lot of frogs in my time, there’s no denying it.
I’ve done things I’m not proud of. Who hasn’t?
I’ve been ready to meet someone for a couple of years now, but it just didn’t happen. ’
I sat quietly, willing him to carry on, to let me know him more. To let me in.
‘I’d go out with a girl, but within a month or two I’d see something I didn’t like.
It could be something as stupid as a spot on her face, or the way she laughed or chewed her food.
Once I saw that particular trait, I couldn’t unsee it.
And then in my mind it grew bigger and bigger until it was all I could see.
And then I’d have to call it a day. You’d swear I was Jamie Dornan with the pick of the women, the way I was carrying on, but I couldn’t help it.
I couldn’t settle for anything less than perfect. ’
‘So, should I be sitting here waiting for the bullet?’ I said gingerly, excuse the pun.
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ He squeezed me tighter into his chest. ‘I told you before, I’m convinced there must be a film crew hiding around here in the bushes somewhere filming a reality TV show “You’ve Been Framed” Ginger Special.’
‘Now who’s being ridiculous?’ I leaned into his shoulder.
‘But was there nobody serious before? Have you ever been in love?’ Would he ever tell me anyway? He had a talent for using humour to avoid the question.
‘No. There was nobody serious. Not before you. Like I said, I kissed a few frogs along the way. Once, I thought it might have gone somewhere with someone, it was the only time somebody called it a day with me. I thought I was hurt at the time, but it was my pride that was injured more than my actual heart. I saw her around a few times afterwards and knew well she wouldn’t have been for me, anyway. Plus, my parents didn’t take to her.’
‘I can’t imagine your parents not liking anyone.’
‘Well, that just goes to show the nature of the beast, possibly a narrow escape.’
‘And are the frogs all local?’ I couldn’t help but wonder had we crossed any in passing, or would we be likely to?
‘Some of them. Some of them are married now with kids, some of them are still stalking poor unsuspecting bastards like me.’
‘I can’t imagine living like that, with the skeletons of your past walking round in broad daylight, having to acknowledge them, running into them on a daily basis.
Is it not a bit awkward?’ That was another massive benefit to living in a city, if you didn’t want to bump into someone, the chances are you wouldn’t.
‘I don’t give them a second thought, to be honest.’ His tone oozed sincerity, reassuring me of his complete and utter lack of genuine interest in anyone before. The frog analogy put everything in perspective.
‘You can ask me anything, Lucy. I’ll never lie to you. No matter how ugly the truth is. I’d rather spend the rest of my life alone than with the wrong woman.’
‘I admire you so much. You’re so strong it’s unreal.
I don’t know where you got that old head on your shoulders from, but I’m glad you have it.
Look at me, the pure opposite. I married the first wrong one that came along, because I honestly didn’t believe there would ever be a right one.
It’s absurd when you think about it. We’re a right pair, aren’t we? ’
‘We are, but I wouldn’t change any of it, because all the tiny insignificant details of our lives are exactly what led us to being here. I wouldn’t swap for the world. It made us who we are today and brought us together.’
He was right, and I knew it, but I couldn’t help feeling the earlier years could have been put to a lot better use and I said so.
‘The only thing that could be put to better use right now is this morning.’ He pulled me to my feet, lifted me down from the rock and led me by the hand back to his four-poster bed.
Sunday mornings didn’t get any better.