Karen was a bit miffed. For someone who wassupposedly pining over her, he didn’t look all that happy to see her.
“Can I come in? I thought we should talk.”
Remaining by the doorway, Shane scratched his head and glanced around, shuffling uncertainly.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea. Can I meet up with you later or something?” She saw the slightly glazed look in his eyes and immediately figured out why he was acting so strangely.
“Have you been in the pub already?” she asked, surprised.
“You can’t tell me what to do any more Karen – it’s over between us, you said so yourself and – ”
“Ah, it was just a silly argument, love. I hadn’t time to take it all in. It’s not a big deal – now stop being stupid and let me come inside so we can sort it all out.”
“Um … it’s really not a great time,” Shane mumbled uncomfortably.
“What areyoudoing here?” came a female voice from behind him. Which much to Karen’s disbelief belonged to none other than Lydia Reilly. The other woman purred like a cat awarded a lifetime’s supply of cream.
Bare-legged, Aidan’s sister was just about dressed in a U2 T-shirt that belonged to Shane. Karen knew it belonged to him because it had been a present from her last Christmas. She was so shocked she was unable to utter a word in response.
Shane visibly paled. “Look there’s nothing… I didn’t know that you … ” He held his hands out in despair.
“Wow, it didn’t take you long, did it?” Quickly findingher voice, Karen turned on him, her eyes flashing and her cheeks red with fury. “Here I was feeling bad, thinking that I had let you down when all the time you’ve probably been screwing Miss Piggy here.”
Lydia put her hands on her hips. “How dare you talk to either of us like that?”
Ignoring her, Karen stabbed Shane’s chest with her forefinger as he stood there, caught red-handed.
“Good luck with Germany, pity it isn’t further away. You’re welcome to one other and as far as I’m concerned you can both take a running jump into the Grand Canal.”
With this, Karen hurried back up the steps and down the street, her entire body shaking with shock and fury. She barely heard Shane calling after her.
How could he? How could he just take up with that …. wagon like that – after all the time they’d been together.
She tried to keep her feet moving forward, her entire body convulsed with rage as she walked. She turned onto a side street, not wanting to face the busy main thoroughfare in the state she was in. Noticing that she still had the chocolate biscuits from earlier, Karen cursed and threw the box across the road with such force that it landed in someone else’s front garden.
Then she noticed Shane rush up behind her, dressed in just a shirt, his boxers and boots with no socks.
“Karen, please – I’m sorry – I didn’t mean – I was out of control, nothing happened – please!”
“Don’t you come near me, don’t you eventhinkaboutcoming near me.” She hunched her shoulders and turned away, rushing down the road away from him.
Shane followed, shouting after her. “Please. If you would just let me explain …”
“Explain?” She stopped and faced him, her eyes steely, “Explain what? Oh let me guess, you and Lydia were just swapping clothes – was that it?”
“Look, she was just hanging around earlier - I swear to you that nothing happened.”
“Just leave me alone!” Karen cried. “I don’t want to hear it and to be honest, I couldn’t care less. What you do is your own business and evidently has nothing to do with me regardless. So go to Germany, Shane - or go to hell. Either suits me just fine.”
14
She arrived back at the flat, still shaking with fury. There was no sound from inside, so maybe Jenny wasn’t home. Karen half-hoped that she wasn’t.
Here she was, dishing out advice about Jenny’s love life and accusing her boyfriend of playing around. Little did she know it was her own she should have been worried about.
How could she have been so clueless?
She replayed the scene at Shane’s flat over and over again in her head and Lydia gloating delightedly. The vindictive little wagon must have thought all her birthdays had come at once when she saw her at the door.
