At home, back inside the questionable safety of her house, she double-locked the front door again and checked every other opening in the house, then poured herself a treble Captain Morgan rum. Had all of that just happened? Jon had given her a fake name. Jon was married. And not to just anyone, to Susan O’Donnell, the woman whose packages had been arriving here on and off for the last three years. So was that the connection? Had Jon called by to leave one of the misdelivered parcels and stayed to ask her out? He’d never handed her a package, she was certain of that. But the first time they met was outside her house…He was getting into his car at her gate as she arrived home from the gym. He’d stopped, midway into the driver’s seat, and smiled at her. Was it someone she knew, she’d wondered, someone from work whose face she’d misplaced? She slowed and asked if he was OK. He said he was good, just doing Saturday-morning errands. He pointed at her gym bag with the XSGym logo and asked about it, said he’d been thinking of joining. At first it sounded like a line, but as he kept talking, he seemed genuinely interested in the gym. He’d done a couple of trial visits there and was thinking about signing upbut worried about how busy it might get on weekday mornings. They ended up in a long conversation about gym equipment that evolved into a longer conversation about restaurants they both liked and a film they both hated. They wondered if a just-released film from the same director would be any better. And then, as he left, he asked for her number. Suggested they try the new film together; it was showing in the Light House Cinema. She glanced at his ring finger. Nothing there. And he was certainly attractive. Not that she had any shortage of attractive men asking her out. But it was more than that. There was, if it didn’t sound too romance-novel-ish, a spark.
So was it all a lie, she wondered now, sipping her rum, back on the bottom step of the stairs. Or at least, a lie by omission? Was his “errand” a parcel drop to her house? She tried to think back, but she couldn’t be sure. Couriers delivered stuff every day, mostly leaving it outside her door. There was no way to remember if there had been one there the day Jon came into her life.
It made sense though. And it certainly couldn’t be coincidence that he was married to Susan O’Donnell.
But none of it explained the woman who’d burst into her house earlier calling her Susan. Unless…could that have been someone else Jon was seeing? A third woman? Who thought she was Jon’s wife and wanted to hurt her? That was hardly fair, Savannah thought. She had no care or concern for Susan O’Donnell in all this, but she didn’t feel inclined to beat her up, for goodness’ sake. Who does that?
Either way, Jon was going to have a lot of explaining to do tomorrow. She finished her rum, left the glass on the floor and went to bed.
83
Celeste
Thursday
Celeste passes her angry, sulking son on the stairs. He’s still not talking to her since the vape argument yesterday evening.
His parting words ring in her ears as she crosses the landing to Nika’s room.
More like Nika? Ha. You’ll see. And when it’s over, don’t say I didn’t warn you.
What does that even mean? Good lord. She can’t wait till the teenage years are done.
She knocks on Nika’s open door and steps in. Nika’s lying on her bed, scrolling. On her laptop,Gossip Girlplays, subtitles on, sound down. There are dresses strewn across the chair at her desk and some have slipped to the floor. The normal disarray of a teenage girl.
Nika sits up straight, cross-legged now on her bed.
“Oh, hi, Mum. Did you finish work early?”
“No, I’m not done, I have a call with the US at seven, but I’ll do it from home. Are you feeling better after all that drama with Greta O’Donnell yesterday?”
“A little,” Nika says, summoning a small smile. “I’ll be fine, Mum, don’t worry.”
“Well, how about some shopping to help cheer you up?”
The smile widens, becomes more real. “I’d love that! I was thinking, could we go to Kildare Village? Jessica went with her mum last week and they got gorgeous stuff and had lunch and it sounded—”
“I was thinking more about online shopping. It’s easier than going in person, isn’t it? I can give you my credit card and you put yourself together a nice haul from Brandy Melville?”
“Oh. Sure. That would be great.”
Is Celeste imagining it, or is there something flat in Nika’s response? She usually loves an opportunity to shop. Maybe this thing with Greta hit her harder than Celeste realized.
“How about you order that Chanel bronzer you were hinting about the other day and pop a few more things in a Cult Beauty basket for yourself?”
“Great. Thanks. Actually”—Nika sits up straighter—“could I take your car tonight?”
“Ah, I’ll need it after my work call. I have Pilates at eight.”
“You could use Dad’s car.”
“He’s at the golf club.”
A petulant pout. Celeste had always thought it was cute. Maybe less so now that Nika is almost eighteen.
“Aw, Mum, come on. I told Jess I’d call over, and there’s no way to get there without a car.”
Celeste thinks back to her own teenage years—she got buses and walked everywhere. Different times, she supposes.
