Chapter 2 #3
Maeve smiled at him. ‘Yes,’ she said, blowing a lock of hair out of her eyes, ‘Finally, phew.’ She looked down at her creased skirt that looked more like an accordion than a pencil. ‘But I’m not fit to go into a restaurant.’
‘How about a pub, then? There’s a nice one only five minutes away. Fish and chips, a glass of Pinot Grigio, what do you say?’
Maeve was suddenly starving. ‘Sounds perfect.’
He locked his car and walked to her side. ‘It’s just around the corner. Do you want me to carry anything?’
‘No, thank you, I left the samples in the office. I just have my handbag.’
He glanced at her large leather tote. ‘Looks pretty hefty to me. What do women have in those big bags anyway? Tea for five and a spare motorbike?’
Maeve laughed. ‘Nearly. I have my gym clothes and a change of shoes. Keys, phone, wallet, some make-up and my Filofax.’
‘Bloody hell.’
‘Yeah, well I spend all day away and often don’t get home until very late. So I need all that stuff.’
‘I see. We’re nearly there. Just around this corner,’ he said, leading the way down a narrow street until they came to a stop outside a pub with the name ‘J.K. Walsh’ on a painted sign above the entrance.
They walked into a small, cosy bar with tables and chairs near the window and barstools at the counter.
The pub was nearly empty, except for a couple at one of the tables and a man at the bar counter enjoying a pint of beer.
The smell of freshly cooked fish and chips made Maeve’s stomach rumble.
Stephen walked ahead to the bar and waved at the bartender. ‘Fish and chips for two, please, old sport. And a glass of Pinot each.’ He glanced at Maeve. ‘Is that okay with you?’
‘Perfect.’
‘Good. We’ll be at the table over there by the window.’
‘You’ve been here before,’ Maeve said as he pulled out her chair.
‘Oh, yes. I often come here after a rugby match at Twickers. Great food and quick service. And it’s never so packed you can’t get a table. And I like the décor.’
Maeve scanned the room. ‘It’s nice, except for those curtains. I’d have gone for a more rustic look rather than the paisley design. A bit too girly for a pub. And if they painted the wainscoting white, it would a be lot brighter.’
He laughed. ‘I’d never noticed. But then I’m not a designer like you.’
‘I’m afraid it’s in my blood by now. But the view is nice,’ Maeve remarked, looking out the window at the leafy street lined with Victorian houses.
‘Very nice,’ Stephen agreed, looking at her so intently it made her blush.
‘Do you live around here?’ Maeve asked, trying to regain her composure.
‘No, I live in Maida Vale.’
‘Oh. Very posh.’
‘Nice area,’ he said, a little stiffly. ‘And where do you live?’
‘Tiny flat in Stockwell.’
‘Exquisitely decorated, no doubt.’
Maeve laughed. ‘Oh yeah. It’s gorgeous. That boho-not-so-chic look with flaking paint, brown lino and leaking taps. I rent it and the landlord would start charging more if I did anything to improve it. Even if I paid for the improvements myself.’
‘Ouch. Must be painful.’
Maeve sighed. ‘It’s very depressing. I’m dying to redecorate it. I’ve done what I can with curtains and sofa cushions, but it’s still depressing. But I have my eye on a nice flat in this area, so I’ll be looking into that when I get back from my holiday.’
‘You’re going away?’
‘Just for a break. Doctor’s orders. I have a few health problems. Stress-related, apparently.’
His eyebrows shot up. ‘Stress-related?’
‘I know. Sounds pathetic, doesn’t it? What can be stressful about picking out the perfect wallpaper to go with the perfect couch?
’ She stopped, feeling stupid. ‘It’s not about the actual work though, it’s about the clients.
They want everything done at the click of their fingers.
And then there’s my quest for perfection, too. ’
‘Oh.’ He looked at her appraisingly. ‘We’re a bit of a perfectionist, are we?’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘The way you rearranged the salt and pepper on the table as soon as we sat down. And put the mustard pot behind them.’
‘Oh. Yes, well…’ She bristled slightly at his teasing tone. ‘I like straight lines.’
‘And hospital corners?’
She had to laugh. ‘That too.’
‘I suspect it’s your personality that landed you in the doctor’s office more than the actual job.’
Maeve shrugged. ‘A bit of both, I think. But I do have a huge amount of work on right now, so that doesn’t help. Then the doctor told me to go off and have fun, fall in love, drink wine and get a tan, if you could believe that.’
Stephen smiled. ‘Alcohol, sex and tanning? Sounds like a great doctor. So where are you going to find all that?’
‘A little village in the west of Ireland,’ Maeve laughed, suddenly relaxing at the thought of her holiday.
‘Ireland?’ he said, in an incredulous voice that annoyed her.
‘Yes. Why not?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. Never been there. Seems a little provincial and old-fashioned.’
‘It’s a lot more than that. But I suppose it’s nowhere near fashionable enough for someone who lives in Maida Vale and played rugby for Oxford.’ The sentence was out of her mouth before she had the common sense to hold it in.
‘How did you know? About the rugby and Oxford?’
‘Just a wild guess.’
‘Or maybe you’re psychic?’ He glanced at her. ‘I didn’t mean to sound snobbish.’
She sighed. ‘Sorry. I’m very tired and that makes me touchy. Just ignore me.’
‘Stress can make a person edgy.’
Her shoulders slumped. ‘It sure can. Everything seems like such hard work right now. I don’t have much of a personal life. Not many friends in London, no significant other, just my job and my crappy flat. Love my job though, so at least that’s something.’
‘Including the clients?’
‘Most of them. But there are some difficult ones, of course.’
‘Like my future stepmother,’ he said, rolling his eyes.
‘But your dad’s lovely.’
‘Yes. He didn’t deserve to be trapped by that little gold-digger. He had the bad idea to go on a dating site after my mother died, and Belinda was there, winking at him with her big boobs and long legs.’
‘She winked with her boobs? Must be very talented.’
Stephen laughed. ‘Ha, yes. Very talented.’
They were interrupted by a waiter bringing their order.
A big plate of crispy fish in batter and a pile of hot chips was placed in front of Maeve.
She inhaled the delicious smell, feeling ravenous.
‘This looks wonderful,’ she said, helping herself to tartare sauce as the waiter laid down two glasses of white wine and a carafe of iced water.
They ate in silence for a while, smiling at each other and taking sips of the crisp, cold wine. ‘Let me know if you want more wine,’ Stephen said. ‘I have to be careful as I’m driving.’
‘Thanks, this is grand,’ Maeve mumbled through a mouthful of succulent fish. Her phone rang in her handbag, but she reached inside and turned it off.
‘You’re not going to answer that?’ Stephen asked.
‘Nope. Doctor’s orders.’ However, she pulled out the phone and checked the caller ID. ‘Oops. That was my sister. I’ll call her back later. In any case, she’ll be free to talk then. Right now she must be in the middle of homework and dinner. She has teenagers.’
‘That would keep her busy,’ Stephen remarked. ‘I only have one of those and when she’s around, it’s all hands on deck. Homework, making dinner, keeping her off her phone and listening to her moaning.’
Maeve laughed. ‘Sounds familiar. Multiplied by three for my sister. Except her husband helps out too, of course. They run a consultancy business together, so life’s hectic.’
‘Must be. Three of them, eh? That would be hard work.’ He sat back. ‘But don’t get me wrong, Zoe is very important to me. I just wish I could see her more often. We’re going through a custody case right now, which is quite harrowing.’
‘Oh,’ Maeve exclaimed, noticing the touch of sadness in his eyes. ‘That must be nerve-racking.’
‘Yes, it is. One can only hope for the best. But what about you?’ Stephen asked. ‘Not to be nosey, but…’
‘But at my age I should at least be married with a child or two?’ Maeve filled in.
‘I never had that urge, to be honest,’ she breezed on, before he had a chance to reply.
‘I had a boyfriend for five years but we were both very much free spirits. Neither of us felt the need to get married or have a family. Or so I thought. Then he had an affair behind my back and when we split up, he rushed into marriage before I could blink. And now he’s playing happy families with a wife and child.
’ She tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice.
‘The stockbroker?’
‘Yes.’ Maeve avoided his eyes while she picked up a chip and dipped it into the sauce before popping it into her mouth, enjoying the tangy flavour.
‘Must have been tough.’
‘It stung. Still does a bit. But then I decided I needed a change and came to London. I was lucky to be hired by Ava, my boss. I got so busy I didn’t have time to think, which was a good thing. But maybe not so good for my social life.’ She drew breath. ‘Boring, huh?’
He looked confused. ‘What’s boring?’
‘The story of my life.’
He pushed his plate away and leaned forward. ‘Not boring at all, just a bit sad. But aren’t we all? I’m going through a divorce and here I am, at forty-two, suddenly single, a little lonely and wondering what to do with the rest of my life.’
‘Oh, but…’ Maeve stopped. ‘You seem to be quite eligible,’ she continued. What was he going on about? With his good looks and interesting job, he would be quite a catch.
Stephen laughed and shrugged. ‘Eligible? I take that as a compliment. But I rushed into marriage with the wrong woman and now I find myself all alone.’
‘Maybe you should be more careful next time?’ Maeve suggested.
‘I should be more picky like you.’
‘Oh,’ she said airily. ‘I’m not that bad. But I have certain standards all the same. I take things as they come these days, not trying too hard, hoping it will happen one day. Looking for Mr Right is so bloody tiring.’
‘And now you’re taking off to Ireland.’
Maeve nodded and finished her chips. ‘Can’t wait. Two weeks at Sandy Cove will be heaven.’
‘That sounds poetic. Is it a real place?’
‘It’s a village in the west of Ireland. The house is called Willow House. A gorgeous pink Edwardian building. My aunt lives there. I spent many childhood summers in that house with her and my uncle. But he died last year, so now she’s on her own.’
‘I’m sure she’ll love your company.’
‘I hope so. We were quite close when I grew up. The kind of fun auntie every teenager should have,’ Maeve said, smiling as she remembered Auntie Phil and her unconventional ways.
‘My mother thought she was irresponsible. I think it was because she had no children of her own, so she liked to spoil us.’
‘And your uncle?’
‘He was quite serious and very correct. He had a long, distinguished career as an international lawyer. They only used Willow House in the summertime when they were on holiday. Auntie Phil used to love putting on jeans and a T-shirt, such a relief from all the gala clothes, she said. But she was so elegant, even in the jeans. Still is, I think. Even at seventy-two.’
‘Same age as my father.’
‘Great generation. I think they had the best time back in the sixties. Seems to me to have been such an idyllic world. No worries, just a lot of fun.’
Stephen drained his glass of wine. ‘Oh, we always think that when we look back at the past, don’t we? I’m sure there were plenty of troubles. The cold war, the threat of nuclear attacks, women’s rights, unemployment…’
Maeve laughed. ‘I suppose so. I just thought: swinging London, the Beatles, Carnaby Street, miniskirts, great fashion and all that fun stuff.’
Stephen smiled. ‘You look at the bright side; I’m more gloomy. But you’re right. It was probably a great time to be young.’
‘Until they had to face adulthood, of course.’
‘Some never did.’
‘Like my auntie. She’s forever the teenager.’
‘Sounds like a marvellous woman.’ He looked at their empty plates. ‘Would you like dessert? Or more wine?’
‘No, thanks.’ Maeve checked her watch. ‘I think I’ll get going. It’s getting late and I have an early start tomorrow. A client in Ascot. She wants me to call in before she flies off to New York, so I agreed to be there at seven.’
‘You do work hard. Don’t you ever say no?’
‘Do you?’
He laughed. ‘All the time. I can write rejection letters in my sleep. “Dear so and so,”’ he drawled, ‘“many thanks for letting us read your work. We enjoyed it but I’m afraid it’s not the right fit for us. Wishing you the best of luck with your future career, blah, blah.”’
‘Must be difficult. Shattering people’s dreams like that.’
‘Not in the slightest. It’s business.’ Stephen waved at the waiter for the bill.
Maeve took out her wallet. ‘Let’s split this.’
‘No, this is on me,’ Stephen insisted. ‘I invited you, remember?’
‘Thanks, but…’
‘Please. I want to thank you for putting up with the dreadful Belinda. Paying for dinner is the least I can do.’
Too tired to argue, Maeve put her wallet back in her bag. ‘That’s very kind. Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome.’ When he had paid, he got up and pulled out Maeve’s chair. ‘Let me drive you home.’
Maeve picked up her bag. ‘No thanks, it’s really out of your way. And I want to walk for a bit before I get on the Tube. Clears the head.’
‘It’s a nice evening.’ He held the door open for her and they headed out into the warm evening, the traffic a distant roar and the sky darkening. ‘Thanks for the company,’ he said as they reached his car.
He leaned forward as if to kiss her cheek, but something made her step back a fraction and hold out her hand. ‘You’re welcome,’ she said, a little stiffly. ‘It was fun.’
He shook her hand. ‘Maybe another time?’ He took a card from his breast pocket and handed it to her. ‘Here’s my card, in case you want to get in touch.’
‘Thanks.’ She stuffed the card into her bag. ‘Who knows? Some evening when we’re both at a loose end.’ She knew she sounded cold, but she was determined not to be pulled in by a man before she knew she could trust him. Never again, she had promised herself.
‘Have a great holiday there, in the wild west.’
‘Thank you, I will. Bye, Stephen. And thanks for dinner.’ She walked away, knowing he was still standing there, looking at her.
This made her toss her hair and wiggle her hips while she walked.
She had found herself very attracted to his posh accent and polished good looks, which made her a little nervous.
Had she been a little too stiff with him?
she wondered. But she was probably being paranoid after what Lorcan had done to her, she told herself.
Stephen had been perfectly nice and had looked at her with more than an appreciative glance. Why not give him a chance?
But right now, her holiday beckoned. She forgot all about him as she walked away, her mind on her trip to that magic place she always thought of as home.
***
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