Chapter 18 #2
Afterwards, I slumped forward onto his chest, grateful for the scrunchie that pulled my unruly curls into a messy bun on top of my head.
‘You are something else.’ He kissed my neck lightly before I pulled away. As hot as the sex had been, I wasn’t exactly comfortable and we both laughed as I navigated my way less than graciously out of the bath and into the comfort of one of the hotel’s heavy robes.
I popped open a bottle of Moet from the minibar and poured us both a glass. John drank his in the bath, I sat at the dressing table next to him and applied my make-up for the evening.
‘You don’t need half that shit you put on your face, Luce,’ he said affectionately.
‘I like it. It’s more for my benefit than yours,’ I told him truthfully.
‘How many times have I told you, girl, when you have it, you have it. And trust me, you have it.’
I’m not quite sure what ‘it’ was, but he clearly intended it as a compliment.
I slipped into a black bodycon dress, plain in its design, with thick straps and a scoop neck which showed a hint of tanned cleavage.
It stopped exactly on my knee and I teamed it with simple black peep toe stilettos and a small black clutch.
John let out a long, low whistle and raised his eyebrows approvingly at my attire. ‘Do you have any knickers on under there?’ he asked huskily.
‘I might let you find out later.’
‘Every man in Dublin is going to be looking at my woman tonight,’ he said.
‘I very much doubt that. Maybe it’s you that needs to go to Specsavers? But if Brad Pitt himself walked through that door right now, I’d tell him to get lost and stop annoying us.’ I downed the last of my champagne in one mouthful.
He helped me into my black, knee-length belted over coat and lead me out into the corridor where we took the lift to reception. We took a taxi to the restaurant John had booked; it was called Fire. It was classy, but understated, like himself. We had a private booth dimly lit with candles.
John told me about the week’s work on the farm, how Hugh and Sam had been so good to stay all hours.
I found myself only half listening. The other half of me wondered what I’d possibly done to deserve to be with this wonderful man.
He was everything I hadn’t realised I needed; strong, confident, witty, sexy.
The only problem was the sea that separated us. I sighed unintentionally.
‘Am I keeping you awake? Sorry, I know this farming craic isn’t exactly what you’re into,’ he sat forward, leaving across the table.
‘Sorry. It’s not that at all. I was just wondering how many teeth I’d have to clean before I could buy my very own helicopter so I could come home to you every night.’ I attempted to make light of the situation.
‘Honey, you are so silly sometimes.’ He laughed at me in a childlike manner. ‘You won’t need a helicopter; the house is only fifteen minutes in the car from town.’
‘Hilarious, aren’t you?’ I sipped my wine quietly, unsure of what else to say on the matter.
‘Don’t panic. It’s all going to fall into place, I promise you.’
‘Why? Are you thinking of exporting antiques to the UK?’ I asked more sharply than I had intended to.
‘There are five dental practices in Ballina,’ he said.
‘I’m not saying you have to move here, but at least there are options.
Let’s give it until Christmas and we’ll talk about it seriously then.
I know we can’t go on travelling indefinitely every weekend, and I’m only sorry its mostly you doing the legwork with flights and trains and everything else.
I’m just tied with the farm and everything. ’
‘I don’t mind coming here for the weekend, I’d actually travel a lot further if it meant I could be with you…’
‘But?’ he prompted me quietly.
‘But the goodbyes get harder every time I leave you. And in all honesty, I’m not sure I’d ever be able to live here.’ There- I said it out loud.
‘Wait until Christmas before you rule it out. These weekends will give you a chance to get a feel for the place, find your feet before you commit to anything. Look, I know what you’ve just come out of.
I know it was hard, and you probably don’t want to get all serious and bogged down again too soon.
’ He was so understanding, but he was wrong.
It wasn’t that I didn’t want to get serious with him, quite the contrary in fact.
‘It’s not that at all.’ I was desperate to reassure him again I had no interest in “spreading my wings”, as he put it.
Oh, I had an itch alright. An overwhelming, desperate longing for it to be scratched. And scratched every day, preferably multiple times. But there was only one person that could do that, and he was sitting across the table from me and I told him so.
‘I know our friends would all think we were completely crazy if we told them the conversations we’re having already, but when you know, you know.’ He was as sure as himself as ever. Easy enough for him, he wasn’t the one thinking about moving countries.
In fairness, he had a lot more to leave behind than I did. His house, his farm, his business, his family and all he’d ever known. On the flip side, I hadn’t lived at home since I left for the Royal College of Surgeons at nineteen years of age, but I’d since worked hard to build a business myself.
I was self-employed, and had acquired many loyal patients over the past few years. I’d formed friendships stronger than some of my family bonds. And there was my mum, of course.
No matter how hard I tried, it was impossible not to overthink the situation. I was used to being so sure of my life, so completely in control. I was like a tumbleweed blowing in the wind, wondering which direction the breeze was going to take me.
‘I can read you like a book,’ he said. ‘Don’t worry about the details tonight.
I adore you; you hopefully adore me. We will make it work.
’ He reiterated the same line he’d used before.
‘It took me thirty years to find you, I’m not going to let you slip through my fingers.
Besides, my father would kill me if I let you get away now. ’
I hoped his father hadn’t ratted me out on the L word. I hadn’t said it to him myself, despite knowing that was exactly what it was, from very early on.
I changed the subject quickly to lighten the mood. ‘Have you taken that Godawful stag head down from the wall yet?’ He laughed, as I’d intended.
After dinner we walked the short distance through the city to The Shelbourne. John led me into the bar and placed my coat on the back of a barstool. I hovered a few feet away as he ordered our drinks, scanning the room to see if I could pick out Jack and Julia.
A short, petite woman with shoulder length highlighted hair made a beeline for John.
She strode towards him in a manner that made me think she knew him, and well, by the way in which she put her arm round his waist. She couldn’t have been more than five-foot three, a short red dress detailed her tiny waist and child-like frame.
Reaching on tiptoes, she kissed his cheek.
An uneasy feeling crept into my stomach, but I couldn’t bring myself to look away. Her behaviour left me in no doubt now that she knew him intimately. It was mirrored in the surprise on his face, surprise that she was here.
A flashback of this afternoon, John’s hands on my body, gave me a brief flicker of satisfaction and quelled the green-eyed monster. He turned to see if I’d clocked the situation, discomfort apparent in the tightness of his smile. A smile that didn’t fully reach his eyes.
I couldn’t hear the words they exchanged, but I got the impression from the way he stared at me that he was about to point me out. I deliberately looked the other way.
A man wearing a tweed jacket and dicky bow approached me from out of nowhere.
‘You must be Lucy?’ He was about five-foot ten and slightly stockier than John. He too had red hair.
‘Jack? It’s a pleasure to meet you.’ He couldn’t have come over at a better time.
‘Likewise.’ He adjusted his dicky bow, pulling at the neck of her shirt.
‘Congratulations on your engagement.’
‘Thank you. I’ll introduce you to my fiancée now.’ He nodded at John and raised a hand as a greeting.
John arrived back with a glass of champagne for me and two crystal tumblers filled with some sort of top shelf whisky. He’d eventually managed to extract himself from the blonde.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her scrutinise me from head to toe, so I made sure to smile my brightest smile.
That little niggle of jealousy lingered in the pit of my stomach. It was the first time I’d truly experienced it, never previously caring enough in the past.
Intuitive as ever, John placed his arm around me protectively. The woman in red shot daggers at us. If looks could kill my head would have been ripped off my neck.
‘Yellow Spot,’ John said, handing Jack a glass.
‘Twelve-year-old?’ Jack smelt it as he swilled it around the glass.
‘Yes. Congratulations.’ John gently tipped glasses with Jack, then me. ‘You’ve met Lucy, I see.’
‘I clocked you as soon as you walked in. I see I wasn’t the only one.’ Jack raised his eyebrows slightly and shrugged his shoulders as if to say what can you do?
‘Fucking pain in the arse,’ John muttered. She was now only about three feet away from us, subtly moving closer to us to get a better look. As she lingered nearby, I noticed the fine lines crinkling around her heavily pencilled eyes.
Though her figure was child-like, she was nearer to forty than thirty.
‘We must introduce Lucy, to Julia,’ Jack prompted loudly, and gave us a nudge in the other direction.
We scooted rapidly across the bar to the other side of the room.
‘One of the infamous frogs?’ I asked quietly, only a couple of metres from Julia.