She could easily have called the shots if she’d wanted to. She could have insisted on going to the IFI instead of the local multiplex and Ben would have gone along with whatever she wanted. But that wasn’t her style either, and after the first time she’d taken him to see an experimental all-female production ofHamletone October during the theatre festival, she’d decided never again. She’d genuinely thought he’d enjoy it if he gave it a chance. Instead, it had spoiled her own pleasure in the performance. She’d been too aware of Ben twitching and yawning beside her, clearly in agonies of boredom and bewilderment, making her feel like she’d dragged him there against his will to suffer the agonies of the damned.
Not that he’d complained. His only comment afterwards when Sive asked what he’d thought was, ‘Bit weird, wasn’t it?’ When pressed for more, he’d added, ‘I thought Hamlet was supposed to be a bloke.’ But his body language had said it all loud and clear, a veritable pantomime of not-getting-it and what-a-load-of-cobblers, clearly conveying that he’d rather be scraping his eyeballs out with a spoon. Marcel Marceau himself couldn’t have done a better job of making his feelings known without speaking a single word.
So she’d compartmentalised that part of her life, even though it felt odd not being able to share something that meant so much to her with her boyfriend. To be fair, Ben didn’t seem to mind that she’d never shared his interest in climbing and outdoor pursuits. She’d made an effort, once suggesting they join a walking group for Sunday hikes. But while she’d enjoyed the ramble and chat, she could see it was as stimulating for Benas watching his beloved Manchester United play was for her, and it only left him twitching to do some proper climbing.
Looking at it in a clear-eyed way, with the benefit of hindsight, she and Ben had probably always been a mismatch. Glancing across at Sam, thoroughly engrossed in the show, she thought how lovely it was to be with someone who shared your passions. Was this how Ben had felt when he met Anna Purna (as she’d privately named his mountaineering girlfriend)? Not that Sam was her boyfriend, of course. But maybe he could be…
After the show, they avoided the crush in the theatre bar and went to a quiet pub nearby, where they found a table by the window. Sam got them drinks and had just sat down opposite Sive when his phone buzzed. He pulled it from his pocket and glanced at the screen.
‘Sorry, I need to take this,’ he said to Sive with an apologetic grimace. ‘Hi Julie,’ he said, standing again and walking to the door as he spoke.
Sive felt a pang of jealousy and wondered who this Julie was as she watched Sam pacing the pavement outside, his phone clutched to his ear. She was probably just a friend, she told herself, trying to stem the disappointment she felt. But there’d been something about the way he’d answered the phone to her – something intimate in his hushed tone, the gentleness in the way he said her name, the almost furtive way he’d left the pub to speak to her.
It was a very animated conversation, whoever she was. Sam appeared agitated, raking a hand through his hair as he talked. As if feeling her eyes on him, he turned to Sive and mouthed ‘sorry’ through the glass. She waved away his apology and sipped her drink, trying to ignore her disquiet and tell herself she didn’tmind. But she couldn’t help it. This had started to feel very much like a date and one she discovered she badly wanted to be on.
Could Sam have a girlfriend she didn’t know about? It didn’t seem likely. They saw so much of him now, with him working at Halfpenny Lane and spending so much time with her family. And Sam was so open. If he was with someone, surely they’d have met her by now or at least have heard of her. And he wouldn’t have been so flirty with her, would he?
But even if he didn’t have a steady girlfriend, it was naïve to think he wouldn’t have been dating. He was a young, good-looking guy and maybe he did fancy her, but she’d been with Ben and he was hardly going to save himself in the vague hope that they’d break up and he could ask her out. Of course he’d have been going out with other people, kissing other girls, going home with them … Her mind shied away from the rest.
Sure, he’d been flirty with her, but he knew she had a boyfriend and nothing was going to happen between them. It was just light-hearted fun, a way of passing the time, and it didn’t mean anything. She’d just read too much into it.
It was probably better if they were just friends anyway, she told herself determinedly. Things could get messy if they became involved, and she didn’t want to risk losing what they had. She loved their friendship, and Sam was practically part of her family now. Romantic relationships came and went, but friends and family were for keeps. Sive had lost too many people in her life already. She didn’t want to lose him.
‘Sorry about that,’ Sam said, coming back into the pub as Sive was draining her drink.
‘It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.’
‘Friend having a bit of a crisis. I’m really sorry, but I need to go.’ He winced apologetically.
‘Oh, that’s fine. I’m finished anyway.’
‘Stay and have mine, if you want.’ He indicated his full glass on the table.
She shook her head. ‘Thanks, but I’m pooped.’ She stood. ‘Are you getting the Luas?’ she asked as they walked to the door.
Sam shook his head. ‘I’m going to Clontarf. I’ll get a taxi.’ He pulled his phone from his pocket to call one.
‘Oh, ok. Well, I’ll … see you when I see you.’
‘Yeah.’ Sam pulled her into a hug. ‘Thanks, I really enjoyed tonight.’
‘Me too.’ Sive wrapped her arms around him, briefly enjoying the warmth of his body, the delicious smell of his aftershave.
‘Sorry to ditch you like this,’ he said as his taxi pulled up. ‘I’ll do better next time.’
What did that mean, Sive wondered as she watched Sam drive away. But as she walked to the tram stop, she resolved to be content with what she had with Sam and not to hanker after more. She’d had enough heartache for one year.
5
RehearsalsforA Christmas Carolstarted the following Monday. Sive finished her morning yoga routine with a long session of savasana. She wanted to arrive at the table read in a state of perfect calm. For some reason she felt unaccountably jittery about this one. Maybe it was vicarious nerves for Sam. She was excited for him experiencing his first professional production, and she was anxious for it to go well for him. She read over her lines as she ate a solitary breakfast, Aoife having already left for work. Then she packed her bag and walked to the rehearsal studio.
She was passing the turn into Halfpenny Lane when she spotted Sam in the Halfpenny Place, the little bakery/café on the corner. He was standing at the counter chatting to Chloe, and they both smiled and greeted her cheerily as she went in to join them.
‘Want one?’ Sam nodded to a cardboard tray of coffees on the counter as Chloe handed him change.
No, thanks. But I’d love a green tea,’ she said to Chloe.
‘Coming right up.’
