She looks at him, nonplussed. Of course Lyla doesn’t have a boss. She doesn’t have to go out to a restaurant and prep vegetables and fillet fish and make sauces as per Marius’s precise instructions, which is what Eddie should be doing seven minutes from now because Lyla has just announced, ‘It’s eleven fifty-three. What time d’you—’
‘Gotta go!’ he cries. ‘Where’s my phone?’
‘I don’t know! Hang on, we’ll find it—’
‘There isn’t time!’ Then: ‘Can I see you tomorrow? I’m on an early shift. I’ll be finished by four—’
‘Okay,’ she says, smiling. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow. Why don’t I come over to yours? I don’t even know where you live.’
A wave of alarm crashes over him. ‘Shall I just come here?’
‘Are you ashamed of your place?’ She laughs. ‘Is it a boys’ hovel?’
‘It’s a bit—’ He stops. No time for negotiations now. ‘It’s fine. Come over.’ He rattles off the address and she taps it into notes on her phone. She beams at him and he plants the briefest kiss on her beautiful full mouth before hurtling out of her flat, down the stairs and out into the bright morning sunshine.
Now he runs, already feeling the benefit of having quit smoking, what, three hours ago? He sprints through the New Town, swerving around corners and almost colliding with a street sweeper truck – ‘Steady on, pal!’ the manyells – and clattering onwards until the restaurant is in sight.
Scooting up the alley now, Eddie flies in through the side door to the bank of lockers. By some miracle of God or something – suddenly Eddie thinks there might be a God after all – he locates his key in his pocket and kicks off his trainers and then, not caring if anyone sees, he pulls off his jeans and yanks up his chef’s trousers and tugs on his slip-on kitchen shoes and hurries through to the kitchen.
‘All right, Eddie?’ Paulina throws him a bemused look.
‘Yeah.’ Eddie tries to steady his breathing as he unpacks his own kitchen knife. Only now does he dare to look around at the kitchen clock. He is eight minutes late.
‘Is Marius about?’ he asks Paulina.
‘Nah, he’s gone to meet a supplier or something …’
‘Great. Fine.’ Eddie positions himself at his station, his whole body flooding with relief as he gets to work.
The shift is long and hectic, but it goes fine. Better than fine, as Eddie is propelled along by sheer happiness and exhilaration. He isn’t even upset about not having his phone right now. For what feels like the first time in his life, he feels fully alive.
Him and Lyla. He can hardly believe what happened this morning. It was better –farbetter – than the first time as, for one thing, there wasn’t a river of beer and vodka sloshing through his veins. He was fully present and sober and it was wonderful. Falling asleep afterwards, and the ensuing panic, wasn’t quite so great. But it’s all fine now. Marius didn’t even know he was late.
At eleven-thirty, the shift is almost over. Eddie’s boss isjovial as he grabs a cloth and dabs at his shiny forehead. ‘Great effort today,’ he announces, looking around at his team. ‘New menu’s rolled out really well. You pulled it off and I’m proud of you all.’ He pauses, fixing Eddie with a look. ‘Nice work, Eddie. You’re really coming on, mate. Must be impending fatherhood. Found out how to change a nappy yet?’ He guffaws.
‘I’ll figure it out,’ Eddie says with a grin.
‘’Course you will. Nothing to it.’ Then he looks around at the others who are launching into the final clean-up at the end of the night. ‘So you all remember Jill Gilbert’s in tomorrow? She’s here at one. Table for two. Remember, guys, I need you all on it and no messing about.’
Chapter Thirty-one
Carly
The house is so quiet at night now. When the kids were here there’d be constant chatter and music playing. Maybe some clattering in the kitchen as Eddie and his mates suddenly decided to fry burgers at midnight, when the house would reek of burning fat. Eddie didn’t often put things away or close a cupboard door. But if he did, it would be with a colossal BANG as if he was trying to smash up the kitchen.
My father might be trying sometimes but he doesn’t do that.
And so at night, Kilmory Cottage settles into stillness, broken only by the gentle sounds of wind and sea. And tonight, as I edge closer to Frank, who I think is asleep already, I have thoughts.
Perhaps he’s notfullyasleep. Maybe, if I go very gently and don’t scare him, then he might be up for it. Because it’s been a very long time since we’ve had sex. At first, when Eddie’s news broke, it was the last thing on mymind. We were so upset and, gallingly, Frank seemed to be blaming me.
I thought you gave him the contraception talk!
Then things settled a little, but it still didn’t happen because Frank was spending an awful lot of time in the shed. Still is actually. No change there. And now Dad’s here, but unlike our kids, he heads up to bed early, always by ten p.m.
So there’s no reason why we can’t do it, I decide, edging closer to Frank. I kiss his shoulder, his neck, the particularly sensitive bit by his ear. He is naked as usual – Frank can’t stand wearing pyjamas – and instead of my usual fleecy PJs I’ve pulled on a silky slip.
Already, I’m feeling a bitstirred up.Frank is still an extremely good-looking man. I don’t quite get the vibe of, ‘Oh my God, what’s he doing with thatcrone?’ when we’re out together. But it’s a fact that he’s more attractive than I am. He’s been mistaken, variously, for Dennis Quaid, Richard Gere and Al Pacino – not that these men look like each other especially. But you might expect him to be in movies rather than toiling away at Dev’s garage.
