‘Hey, you look fancy in your work gear. What’s this, Receptionist Barbie?’
‘More like Fired Barbie, whatever that looks like.’
‘What? You’re joking?’
‘Don’t even ask, Pete, just let me snuggle this puppy.’ Patsy had stuck his wet nose through the gap between the seats. ‘Let’s choose the fuck out of this Christmas tree for our friend Dave. Because that’s the only thing I can think of to do right now.’
Pete chuckled ruefully. There was something so easy in his manner and she felt like .?.?. kissing him. They smiled at each other.
‘It’s good to see you again, Ally.’
‘You too.’ Still, there was a knot of sadness in her stomach that shouldn’t really have been there .?.?. but there it was.
Like the time in the car with William, watching someone drive said so much about their character. Pete was confident; he saw a gap in the traffic and moved deftly. They chatted but she knew he was concentrating at the same time on everything around him. She glanced sidelong at his square jaw highlighted by the orange streetlights and noticed how a muscle twitched with some underlying tension.
‘Do you want to listen to some music?’ he asked.
‘Sure, like what?’
‘Classical or modern?’
Wow, that wasn’t a question she’d expected from Pete, then felt bad for thinking that.
‘Right now, I need something upbeat. Something happy.’
He smiled and tapped his phone. A minute later, ‘Sweet Home Alabama’ by Lynyrd Skynyrd filled the van, followed by ‘Carry on Wayward Son’ by Kansas, and then ‘Don’t Fear the Reaper’ by Blue Öyster Cult.
‘Oh my God, Pete, this is the best driving playlist ever. Can we take a quick spin down the M50 and back to hear what else is on there?’
He grinned. ‘Too late, we’re here.’
They wandered round a vacant lot with hundreds of Christmas trees, as Patsy tottered along on the lead, sniffing everything at his tiny level excitedly. Beside them, parents and kids picked out their family Christmas tree. Ally couldn’t help feeling the pang that this wasn’t going to be a family Christmas for either of them. Not with families of their own anyhow.
‘What is it about Christmas trees that makes you feel ten again?’ Pete smiled but she didn’t answer. It struck her that being ten might have been a very different experience for the two of them. After a bit of toing and froing, they chose a medium-sized tree.
‘What about a huge fuck-off one that’ll make everyone feeleuphoric?’ suggested Ally.
‘Better leave room for the customers. His profits are tight enough,’ said Pete.
Between them, they carried it back to the van and stored it in the back.
‘I don’t suppose you’ve time for a drink?’ said Pete. ‘I know a pup-friendly pub.’
Oh God, would she? But she didn’t need to say a word – they simply exchanged an ‘are you kidding?’ glance and set off.
* * *
The Hole In The Wall pub, alongside the Phoenix Park, was likely visible from Mars, such were the blazing Christmas decorations. They strolled the short distance from the van, past light-up reindeers, inflatable snowmen and strings of flashing lights culminating in a massive neon ‘Ho-Ho-Ho’ across the entrance, which was pretty bloody ironic after the day she’d had, Ally mused.
Thankfully, they arrived just as someone was leaving and managed to bag a table, squeezing into a bench against the wall, where Ally held the seat while Pete went to buy the drinks. He came back surprisingly quickly. Sneaking a glance at him as he shouldered through the packed pub with his five o’clock shadow and expensive-looking aviator jacket, Ally felt proud of him, even if he wasn’t actually her boyfriend .?.?. He was definitely drawing some admiring looks, and not just from the women. Oh, well, they were friends, and she really liked being with him, so if that’s how things were going to work out between them, then that was fine. Friends was how they’d started out, and friends was how they could go on, despite experiencing a twist of what she could only describe as .?.?. grief. What a weird thought, shescolded herself.
‘Wow, that was quick! I’d still be up there, all five foot five of me, being ignored. Just shows how being a tall guy gets you places in this world.’
‘I don’t know about that,’ he said ruefully.
At least Patsy seemed quite at home in the noisy, crowded pub, having grown up among the customers in The Owl’s Nest. Nevertheless, Ally picked him up and cuddled him, probably more for her own sake than his. Predictably, he became a magnet for all the half-cut drinkers, full of bonhomie and pre-Christmas pints. ‘Ah, isn’t he a lovely little fella, and you’re not so bad yourself, miss!’
It just showed how cuddling a dog automatically made people assume you were a lovely person. God, she thought, if I were planning a heinous crime, first thing I’d do is get the fluffiest possible doggie to avert suspicion.
