‘Well, if you happen to be looking for work this side of The Shannon in the new year, I will certainly be looking for a hygienist.’ He put his hand into his suit pocket and handed me a business card with Patrick O’Mara embellished above an Irish mobile number.
I took it gratefully. ‘Thank you. You never know.’ It seemed a lot less unlikely, than it had two months previously.
‘What does your man do?’
‘He’s a farmer.’
‘So, you will be looking for a job down the line.’ He winked at me, knowing I didn’t have a hope in hell of persuading John to move to the UK.
‘It’s beginning to look that I way…’ I was only fully beginning to appreciate the extent of it myself.
We passed the hour with him hypothetically asking what instruments a hygienist would like in a new surgery. I had it in the bag. Thankfully, I had the foresight to be polite to every human I met, regardless of whether it had been a long day or if I was tired. If my mother was in my position, she’d have called it fate.
I left the flight with a new ally, a potential employer, and a lot more hope than I expected to feel about the uncertainties that lay ahead of me.
John waited for me in his usual spot at the arrival area in Knock, one shoulder leant against the wall, as cool as a cucumber as usual. He wore a close-cut navy jumper that depicted the blue of his eyes. I was so utterly obsessed with him; I was sure that every other woman in the world must want him. Clara and Katie assured me that wasn’t the case.
A flicker of excitement crossed his even features as he took my bag from me. ‘You look good enough to eat,’ he whispered in my ear, and kissed me.
‘You look pretty good yourself.’ I revelled in the security of his strong arms around me, his chest against mine.
‘If only we didn’t have to go straight to my mother’s house, I’d have those clothes off you before you got up the stairs.’ His eyes ran the length of me.
‘Promises, promises. I’m looking forward to dinner at your mum’s. And I can’t wait to meet your sister.’
‘She’s a headcase. You will love her,’ he promised, as he helped me into his car.
It was dusk. The sun had set in the midnight blue sky, and I was acutely aware that Clara had made a valid point. The clocks were due to change, winter was setting in. I didn’t relish the thought of our travel plans being interfered with, when the little time we spent together was so precious.
‘So, I only got a job offer on the flight.’
‘What kind of job?’ He glanced at me, his eyebrows knitting together, immediately suspicious.
‘The guy in the seat next to me was a dentist.’ My voice echoed a level of smugness that I couldn’t hide.
‘You are unreal. Where is the surgery?’
‘He bought a practice in Ballina. He’s renovating it, hoping to open in the new year.’ I Googled his name while John drove us through the winding country lanes. A picture from his LinkedIn page appeared in the search results, and I flashed it under John’s nose.
‘You are the jammiest woman I know. Luck just seems to follow you.’ From the tone of his voice, I gathered he was excited.
‘Well, he didn’t actually offer me the job, but he said he’d be looking for a hygienist in the new year. Besides, I’m sure I used all my luck up the night I met you.’ I winked at him, refusing to count my chickens.
‘You have it in the bag, honey, and you know you do.’ He slapped my thigh, openly ecstatic with the evening’s developments.
‘You can’t fight fate.’ He quoted me.
‘Hmm. We’ll see.’
‘We should celebrate.’
‘Not yet. I don’t want to jinx things.’ I was adamant. ‘And let’s keep it between us for now, it mightn’t come to anything yet.’
I recognised the landmarks we passed all the way from the airport to Killala. I could drive from the airport to John’s house myself at this stage. As we turned a bend in the road, a herd of cattle were being moved from one field to another, completely blocking the road.
‘Traffic jam?’
‘Welcome to the west, honey. Country life. We could be here all fucking night.’ He tapped the steering wheel impatiently and sighed at the hold up.
