‘Erm .?.?. Ally, see, the thing is .?.?. I know we’ve been kind of dating for a while, but I thought I should let you know that Cait, my ex-girlfriend from college, is coming home from Australia for good .?.?. tomorrow. And .?.?. we’ve been reconnecting recently and, well .?.?. we’ve decided we’re going to give it another go. I’m sorry, I just wanted to—’
‘William, stop. This is wonderful.’
‘Really?’
‘Really and truly. I couldn’t be happier for you.’
‘You’re not upset?’
‘Not at all. You’re a lovely person, William, and you deserve every happiness, and I just know you’re going to find it.’
‘And you will too, Ally.’
‘Well, I’m not so sure about that, but thanks anyway.’
With that, he was distracted by somebody else and she slipped away into the rowdy crowd, where she felt like the faulty pixel on an otherwise perfect TV screen. Amidst the singing and dancing and kissing, she decided it was time to head home to her fish. Without disturbing Rosemarie and Fergus, who were entranced in their own bubble, she grabbed her things and quietly slipped outside into the December night, her ears ringing in the deafening silence.
She trailed onto the Luas at Smithfield and settled onto a seat, feeling lost. As though she belonged nowhere. She reached into her handbag to pull out her phone and felt the rolled-up knitting. Maybe this was just the moment to knit up a sorrow. Not about William .?.?. No, every word she’d said to him was the truth. It was just that by the time everyone else had claimed their piece of happiness, it seemed like there was nothing left for her.
She started on a line of knitting while glancing up periodically at the other passengers: mostly young people in party clothes, shrieking and chatting excitedly, piling on and off the tram as the stops went by. It struck her that this was a bit like life – ajourney where people got on and off, and eventually, it was your stop and you shuffled off. You were just along for the ride.
Just then, from inside her bag, she felt a buzz and only then remembered she’d turned the ringer on her phone off hours ago. She pulled it out to discover eight missed calls from Pete. The last text said:
Please, please, just PICK UP.
She contemplated it for a minute, then pressed the call button. He sounded frantic.
‘Ally, thank God! Where’ve you been? You just ran out and I didn’t get a chance to talk to you.’
‘Yeah, well, it didn’t seem exactly the moment, did it?’
‘No, wait .?.?. stop! It wasn’t what it looked like. Please come back.’
‘What .?.?. Pete, I’m on the train, I’m nearly home. And, honestly, every time I think I know what’s happening with you, I just end up feeling like a fool.’
She looked up and noticed an older couple sitting opposite her, clearly hanging on every word.
‘You’re not a fool, Ally. If you let me explain, I promise it’ll all make sense.’
The couple nodded.
‘Well .?.?.’
‘Ally, please .?.?.’
‘I don’t know, Pete .?.?.’
‘Ally, there’s something I need to tell you .?.?.’
Just then the tram pulled up and the doors clunked open. Who knew which stop it was – she’d completely lost track. Almost without thinking, Ally found herself standing up, which caused the couple opposite to beam and give her a thumbs upas she ran for the doors, managing to squeeze through just before they slammed shut behind her. She stood on the blustery platform, watching the train lights disappear round the bend. Oh boy. This had better not be yet another of her rotten, impulsive ideas.
‘Ally?’ came Pete’s voice. ‘Where are you?’
‘I’m not sure. Nowhere, I think.’
Seriously, was she just like some stupid kite on a string that he could fly at will and jerk in whichever direction he chose? Should she cop on and take herself and her knitting back onto the next tram and back home to quiet and safety? At that moment she saw coming around the bend the lights of the oncoming tram. On impulse, she ran.
‘Ally, are you there?Ally, where are you? ALLY?’
