But he was staring at her with his large, pale eyes, behind which she recognised the signs of him trying to come up with something fast.
‘She’s .?.?. er .?.?. She’s not here.’
‘Yes, I can see that.’
‘She’s in Spain this week. Low fares, sun.’ For some reason he seemed to think that qualification would help. He was squirming in his comfy seat.
‘I didn’t mean to upset you, Ally. It was really nice spending time with you. A part of me will always love you.’
‘Yeah. I think I get which part. Well, thanks for the kebab. I think it’s time I went.’
‘Al, come on, don’t walk out like that .?.?.’
‘You know what, Francis, maybe I did need this – to show me we’re really over. It’s like people say: if they don’t see a body, they can’t believe someone’s really dead. Well, I see it now. Goodnight.’
With that, she gathered up her coat and bag and fled from the apartment.
She burst out onto Fitzwilliam Street and practically ran down the road to escape from the yucky feeling. Fool.Fool. Big eejit. Francis had always managed to slide away from conflict and get the other person – namely her – to carry the bad feelings. And now .?.?. here she was, responsible for him cheating on another woman, no matter how much she disliked her – and that didn’t feel good.
* * *
She burst through the door of her apartment and hurled her handbag as hard as she could at the wall, knocking off a chip of paint. Good! Serves it bloody right!
Harry and Sally seemed to be dreaming in their warm tank and barely moved until she snapped on the kitchen light, jolting them into wakefulness.
‘Sorry, guys, I know your dinner is late. I’ve been busy being a stupid bitch, and that’s not your fault.’
She sprinkled some food on the surface and felt so agitated that she didn’t know whether to sit down or pace around the room. It was too late to phone Rosemarie – anyway, she knew she’d get an earful, and rightly so.
‘I just wanted him to choose me over her. Even though if he had, I don’t know if I’d have wanted it. How fucked up is that?’
The fish were hungrily diving at the food and paying no attention whatsoever.
‘He’s moved on and I haven’t. So, what do I do?’
Cop on, she told herself. Tomorrow was Saturday and that meant only one thing: heading into The Owl’s Nest for her guilt shift. Not that she didn’t love working there.
It was just that since she’d essentially left Dave in the lurch, she no longer felt like one of the family – more like a blow-in. And that was painful. Still, it was the busiest day of the week and all she could do was pitch up and do her best.
* * *
The next morning she was sitting on the Luas, being lectured by Rosemarie.
‘Girl, don’t be soft. She planted that test for any woman tofind. She was marking out her territory .?.?. proof of ownership, like. And he secretly loves it, even if he’s not letting on, and all he had to do was sit there and eat his kebab – and by the way, he is not a 7.5 like you thought. That’s like ex-dysmorphia, where you think your ex is better than they really are. He’s a 6.8 max. God, that whole act of hers is so passive-aggressive, I can’t deal with it. I’m right now eating a sausage sandwich and I can’t even finish it, I’m too annoyed.’
‘Yeah, but .?.?. Rosemarie, I walked into it with my eyes open. Listen .?.?.’ She tried to lower her voice. ‘It was ex-sex. I mean, is that really bad? How bad is that, actually?’
‘Five out of ten. Because it’s nothing you haven’t done before, so it’s not like you’re doing it with another person .?.?. but still, it’s kind of going backwards.’
‘I feel like such an eejit.’
‘Ah well, nothing ends tidily, does it?’ Rosemarie sighed then slurped her coffee.
‘Anyhow, I’m about to head into The Owl’s Nest after my big resignation. What’s wrong with me? Pete hates me, Francis used me – but I was up for it, so that doesn’t really count – and William likes me because he basically thinks I’m somebody else, plus he has an uncomfortably exact knowledge of what I weigh. Rosemarie, what am I doing that’s so wrong?’
‘When’s your period due?’ demanded Rosemarie.
‘Erm, tomorrow.’
