But before she could reply, she registered a look of consternation on Finn’s face. Oh God, what now? He hastily put down his drink and said, ‘Let’s get out of here.’
‘What? We’ve just sat down, Finn. What’s going on?’
She snuck a glance in the direction of his gaze, only to lock eyes with one of the most hostile stares she’d ever encountered.
‘Come on—’
‘No! Wait, I’ve just got my drink and I’m not leaving. Tell me who that woman is.’
‘It’s Janine, my ex-wife’s sister.’
‘And does she not know you’re separated?’
‘Oh, she does, yeah.’
‘Well, then, feck her.’
‘You don’t get it. She’s a weapon.’
‘What the hell? You owe her nothing and neither do I.’
‘Oh, God, she’s coming over. Christ.’
The burly middle-aged woman was barging towards them through the tables, drawing alarmed glances from the other patrons. With her elbows raised and her chin jutting, she looked extremely intimidating. But if life as a performer had taught Cassie anything, it was not to be afraid of a scene. Embarrassment was no threat to her, no siree. Janine had picked the wrong girl for that. Oh yes. Maybe Cassie was secretly missing performing or maybe meeting the fearless Ramona had given her extra confidence, but if this bitch wanted a ding-dong, then a ding-dong she would get. Audience or no audience.
‘So, Finn, you’re out and about already?’
The decibel level of her voice was designed to browbeat and humiliate.
‘Hello, Janine,’ said Finn through gritted teeth.
Janine swivelled her attention round to Cassie like a rocket launcher taking aim.
‘And who is this lady? I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure?’
What a wagon. At least Cassie had had the foresight to whip her drink off the table on the off-chance Janine might try to tip it over her. No point in wasting good wine. She was no psychologist, but she could certainly spot a chick with a ton of inner rage who was only too delighted to find an excuse to take it out on someone in the name of loyalty or whatever.
‘Cassie.’ She smiled pleasantly. ‘My name is Cassie.’
‘Well, “Cassie”, are you aware that this man is married to my sister?’
The rest of the bar was getting way more action than they’d bargained for on a lacklustre Thursday evening and were lapping it up. This was a tricky situation, Cassie recognised – the moment she reacted, Janine would have her hooked. The old quote about mud wrestling with a pig sprang to mind. Something about .?.?. ‘You’ll both end up dirty and the pig will only enjoy it.’ Apart from that, this was Finn’s battle, and anything she did could only make things worse.
‘That’s enough, Janine, we all know the situation. Marisha and I are living separately. This is none of your business.’
Which was a perfectly fine and accurate reply. Unfortunately, Janine appeared to be one of those people for whom facts were irrelevant or, worse, all part of a conspiracy. She was also hell-bent on involving the entire pub in the drama. Cassie sensed that the only way to play this was to be composed, slightly surprised and utterly unapologetic, thereby making her opponent look unhinged.
‘And I wonder if my sister or herthree little childrenwere here now what they’d make of it.’
‘Marisha is well aware of the situation and, anyhow, we’re not in the way of bringing our children into pubs at night.’
‘Is that so? Well, maybe then we should phone her!’ announced Janine, triumphantly whipping out her phone. Mercifully, help came from an unexpected source in the form of a group of men who had become quite invested in the dispute.
‘Ah, shut oop, ye ole slag.’
‘Yeah, the fella’s separated. That’s what he’s after sayin’. Fair an’ square. Leave them alone.’
‘She’s only raging ’cause your other one is way better lookin’,’ a third chortled.
