“Where are these houses, then?”
“The estate agent is showing us two in Blackrock – one on Newtownpark Avenue and another close to the seafront.”
“The one on Newtownpark would be easier for the office commute,” Jenny pointed out.
“True – but I kind of fell in love with the view from the other one.”
“You haven’t seen inside though - it could be an awful kip. Online brochures can be deceptive.”
“Which is why I’m bringing you along,” he stated simply. “I need you to keep me on the strait and narrow. If I get too excited about either, you can mitigate by acting disaffected. Otherwise, the agent might well have me sign there and then and I couldn’t trust myself not to. I’m useless when it comes to stuff like that. Rebecca ended up negotiating the sale of our London place – I’d have taken the first offer we got.”
“I don’t believe a word of it. A businessman who could buy and sell for Ireland, and you can’t trust yourself with a pushy estate agent?”
“No word of a lie,” he insisted, turning onto the Rock Road. “I’m terrible under pressure. That’s why I have Frank in Sales and Marketing. I can design software to beat the band but when it comes to promoting and selling anything, I’m no good. Frank won’t let me in the room when he’s trying to negotiate.”
“You take it too personally – because you’re so close to it all, I suppose.”
“Exactly. Bet you never had me pegged as the emotional type, huh?”
“Actually I always knew you were a bit precious, getting so upset over your beloved suit.”
“Huh. Now I have a good mind to turf you out on the road and get some other leggy blonde to accompany me.”
“I’ve never been called a leggy blonde before,” Jenny flicked her hair exaggeratedly.
“It was supposed to be an insult.”
They eventually pulled up in front of a two-storey, red-brick 1950s bungalow with a big ‘For Sale’ sign posted outside. The seaside location was indeed appealing but on first impression, the house didn’t look especially so. The garden was overgrown and weeds ran along the edge of a broken path. The estate agent who greeted them was immediately at pains to explain that it had ‘lots of potential’.
Potential for a wrecking ball maybe, Jenny thought dubiously, spying patches of mildew along the dirty grey skirting, and walls painted the colour of diarrhoea. She couldn’t see why anyone would want the hassle of renovating to such an extent. Mike was looking for somewhere to live, not a lifelong hobby.
It seemed that he too was unimpressed, and after visiting the other equally disappointing option with the same agent; was no further forward in his quest.
Afterwards, they went for dinner nearby.
“So what do you think?” Mike asked, ordering the biggest steak on the menu he could find
“Don’t think I could manage a sixteen-ounce. I think I’ll just have the pork instead,” Jenny said.
“I meant the properties – what did you think of the houses?”
She shrugged. “I wasn’t impressed with either, to be honest.” She smiled at a waiter who had brought a glass of wine for her and a Coke for Mike. “They both needed a lot of work – considering the asking price.”
Then again with his money and a successful company behind him, he probably wouldn’t have too many worries on that score.
“I know what you mean,” he said grimacing, “the living room in the second one looked like something out of a bad sixties porno.” He chuckled when she raised an eyebrow. “I don’t want anything that needs a lot of work because I don’t have the time or more importantly the inclination, for tearing down fireplaces and replastering walls.” He traced a finger along the Coke bottle, catching droplets of condensation as they fell.
“Isn’t there anything you’ve seen so far that you like?”
“Nope. They’re all either much too big or much too small.”
“Nothing that’s ‘just right’?” she teased.“I thoughtIwas the only Goldilocks around here.”
“Hey. Watch your cheek or you’ll be paying for your own porridge.”
Jenny chuckled, realising that she was thoroughly enjoying herself. It was difficultnotto enjoy being withMike. Whenever they got together there was always something to talk about or more often than not, something to laugh about.
“So any plans for the weekend?” he asked nonchalantly, but before she got a chance to reply, his phone buzzed. Conscious of disapproving stares from the other diners, he answered on the second ring. “Hello? Oh, hi Becky,” he greeted, a smile breaking across his face.
