* * *
She tumbled through the apartment door with her carrier bag full of wool and needles just as Rosemarie rang.
‘Hi, how’s Fergus?’
‘Fabulous, of course. He’s not the problem. It’s this party on Thursday. Ally, it’s going to be poxy.’
‘What’s wrong?’
‘It’s all Crystal’s bloody fault – she’s just ordered 200 grey helium balloons and a massive banner, all saying:Winter wishes from Celtic Concrete. Grey balloons, with black letters. Jesus, did you ever hear of anything more depressing in your life?’
‘Why?’
‘Feck knows. I think she was trying to be on-brand or suck up to Con or whatever. It’s going to be shite, like a big avalanche of gloom. I mean,winter wishesis like saying: “Happy Miserable Fucking Freezing Indefinitely Long Succession of Weeks”. Yeah, thanks.’
‘OK, it’s bad, but at least you won’t have to blow them up.’
‘No, but we need to collect them. Look, I know you were fired but you’re the only one with a car. Could you meet me at work so we can go to the balloon shop?’
‘Wait – did you say 200 balloons? Rosemarie, I only have a Fiat 500, how’s that going to work?’
‘Shite. You’re right.’
‘Wait .?.?. Pete has a pretty big van. I could ask him for a loan.’
‘Pete, the Man with a Van. How is he, anyway? I was just thinking that maybe you should let him go.’
‘Well, that’s the thing. He’s asked me up to Monaghan on Wednesday to visit his mother.’
‘Visit the mammy?That’s amazing, I take it all back.’
‘But I don’t even know why he asked me .?.?. We’re not even going out. I mean, what are we?’
‘It doesn’t matter. Go with it. Oh, and I nearly forgot, have you been onto to Francis yet?’
‘No, why?’
‘Just do. I’ve got to go, see ya.’
Ally shoved the phone into her pocket and trailed into the sitting room to check on the fish nursery. Nobody had apparently been eaten by anyone else, so she followed the YouTube instructions, diluted some baby fish food, sucked it into a syringe and put it into their side of the tank. At least she was being an earth mother and nurturing some little creatures, which gave her a warm glow of being needed by someone.
The phone buzzed – oh, my God .?.?. Pete’s name always caused her a jolt of excitement.
Pick U up on Wednesday 8.30, dress warm ??
‘OK,’ she told Sally, who was swimming around as normal and seemed to have completely forgotten she’d given birth. ‘I can’t force anything .?.?. if it’s to be, it’ll happen.’ Still, she wasn’t totally convinced.
But ‘dress warm’ .?.?. How could she make that work? A sexy fleece? Did such a thing even exist? Distractedly, she shoved a leftover slice of lasagne into the microwave and, in the intervening three and a half minutes, had a think.
The very thing!The pile of unopened sports clothes she’d ordered a few weeks ago in a feverish desire to impress William and then, when everything had gone to shite, had shoved into the bottom of the wardrobe.
She ripped open the storm-blue fleece and the sort-of matching hiking boots and very nice black leggings, then examined herself in the mirror; her long dark hair and large grey-blue eyes were really set off by the colour of the fleece, although it all looked completely effortless .?.?. Because it was! Oh yes, she had the perfect outfit and it hadn’t taken a feather out of her. There really was a God of leisure and activity clothing.
Just as the microwave pinged, Ally realised how starving shewas and settled down on her favourite cat cushion, with her back against the sofa, and took a forkful of steamy, creamy, cheesy deliciousness. That felt better. For all of the big, high-stakes emotional dramas, there were small moments of simple bliss like this, and she was starting to appreciate them more.
Francis. She’d forgotten about him, damn. She texted:
How’s it going, Fran? Everything OK?
