‘Wow, that sounds high-level, Fran. I’m really proud of you.’
He nodded. ‘Thanks, Ally, that’s .?.?. nice to hear you say.’
There was an awkward moment where neither of them knew what to say. It would be either nothing at all or five years’ worth of feelings.
‘I’ve to head off now, but we’ve a few things to finalise next week so .?.?. Cheers.’
She couldn’t help the wave of melancholy that washed over her as he headed out of the room. There he was, rushing off in his important overcoat to some life that she wasn’t part of anymore.
* * *
‘Ah well, what d’you expect?’ declared Rosemarie on the phone as Ally headed down towards St Stephen’s Green, dodging commuters on the way and surrounded by strings of Christmas lights billowing in the blustery wind.
‘He didn’t even ask why I was there.’
‘’Course he didn’t, he was far too tied up in the big deals. But no mention of the Tadpole? Course not, he’s keeping you separate.’
‘I just feel really deflated, Rosemarie.’
‘Look, today was one of those sit-it-out encounters – nothing happened, but it’s all about setting up the future, you mark my words.’
‘At least Pete won’t be in The Owl’s Nest tomorrow – he’s visiting his mam – so that’s one less stress.’
‘For God’s sake, Ally, lighten up, it’s a café. Dave’ll be able to find a replacement for you – it’s not like you’re walking out halfway through open-heart surgery or something.’
‘I suppose, when you put it like that .?.?.’
She was right. What would she ever do without Rosemarie?
Chapter 16
Tuesday meant only one thing: William and the climbing wall. Oh crap. From 3 p.m. onwards, she kept checking the time on the switchboard in trepidation.
‘For God’s sake!’ Rosemarie had observed. ‘You’d think you were doing the planning for D-Day. It’s just a bit of fun. Stop taking it all so seriously.’
Rosemarie was on a late lunch because Crystal had been interviewed by the podcast#ScumbagCityabout how perimenopause affects women’s sex drive.
‘I wouldn’t be surprised if she ended up doing a Katie Price on it and having another baby, just to prove how hot she is. Jesus, I’ll never see my home if she has another one. Got to go, Ally, keep me in the loop.’
Just then her phone buzzed. It was William.
Hey, hope you’re still OK for this evening? Text me your office address and we can drive out together.
Which was gentlemanly. Suddenly, it struck her .?.?. Oh Lord, this was actually happening. As long as she was just talking about the idea or doing some online shopping, it was all a bitof a fantasy, but now everything was becoming horribly real. Why, oh why, had she allowed herself to get into this situation? Rosemarie was right, she had a phobia about heights, so how could she climb a vertical wall? What if she froze solid and had to be winched off by sweaty men on a big ladder?
I’ve got to put a stop to this travesty before it goes any further, she decided. She would text William and tell him she had a terrible .?.?. what? Tummy upset. Yes, that’d warn anyone off, even someone as keen as William. Brilliant.
Just then her phone buzzed.
Hi, on my way to you now, traffic clear and ETA 5.37pm ??
Oh shite.
Too late.
There was only one thing for it. In Dad’s horse-racing parlance,the only way is through. She slipped upstairs to the bathroom and unpacked her online purchases, which, perhaps unwisely, she’d decided to keep as a surprise for herself.
The climbing shoes she’d stick in her bag till she got there, but she climbed into the pale-grey jersey bottoms (for all-round stretch), which somehow looked more solid in the picture on an invisible model. The only mirror in the room was stuck above the wash-hand basin and at least five feet above the ground. How the hell was she supposed to check her rear at that height? The only option was to carefully climb onto the loo seat, clinging to the wall, and stick her bum across, trying to catch sight of it from the side. Oh God. The bottoms mercilessly clung to every pore. Admittedly, the fluorescent lighting wasn’t doing her any favours, but at that moment her buttocks looked like the dark side of the moon.
