“I know that Jen, it’s just that I don’t want to give him any excuse to get me out.” She sniffed. “But the solicitor I met with this morning reckons that he’ll take the case for me.”
“I’d forgotten that you were seeing him today. That’s great news. What else did he say?”
“I’ll tell you over a cuppa and a muffin.” Karen stood up, gathered her shopping and went into the kitchen. She put the food in the cupboards and then filled the kettle, absently removing a piece of dried spaghetti that had somehow ended up on the wall above the cooker. Then turned back to Jenny. “First, you tellmewhy you sounded so anxious in that text earlier. And why you’re here now, instead of at home studying?”
Jenny glanced down at the floor. “It’s nothing really; you’ve enough on your plate. Tell me what the solicitor said about the case.”
Karen picked a chocolate chip from one of the muffins and popped it into her mouth. “Forget that. I know there’s something up. Did you and Mike have a fight?”
Jenny sat down at the untidy kitchen table and absently began playing with the sugar bowl. “No. But the thing … the thing is … I think Roan’s back.”
Her friend immediately stopped picking at the muffin.
“Roan Williams? Back here - in Ireland, you mean?”
Jenny nodded, her eyes firmly fixed on the table in front of her.
“But how do you know?” Karen asked. “Have youseen him, have you heard from him …. what do you mean youthinkhe’s back?”
“He’s back in Dublin and he’s taken a job at InTech.” Catching her look of disbelief, Jenny continued. “Mike told me his name this morning – you know the way they’ve been looking for someone to take over the sales and marketing end? Apparently, the new guy is Roan.”
“But are you sure? I mean, how do you know it’s actually him? Oh,” she said, as a thought crossed her mind. “Mike doesn’t know, does he? Roan didn’t say anything ….”
“I doubt he’d know that Mike had any connection to me. Anyway,” she looked away, “it’s unlikely he’s given me a second thought since.”
“Jenny, are you absolutely certain that it’s the same Roan? I know it’s an unusual name but ...”
“With the same surname and from Kildare too?”
Karen grimaced. She poured boiling water into the teapot and stirred it. Then she looked at Jenny and hesitated a second before speaking. “Look I don’t mean to sound flippant, but … well, that was years ago. His coming home shouldn’t mean anything to you at this point.”
Tears were streaming down Jenny’s face now, and Karen noticed that she was shaking. Perplexed, she went to put a comforting arm around her friend’s shoulders.
“You’re not still carrying a torch for him, surely? You’ve got Mike now and he’s one of the nicest guys you could meet. You’re getting married soon and –”
“It’s not that and … hell, IknowI should have told you already. To be honest I didn’t know where to start…”
“Go on,” Karen urged, somewhat perturbed.
Jenny took a mouthful of steaming tea and looked her friend squarely in the eye. The hot liquid burned her throat as she swallowed, but she didn’t care.
“It’s just … it’s just … you know pretty much everything about that time. You were there for most of it, after all. But there’s something you don’t know, one last thing I was afraid to share that could ruin everything…”
THREE YEARS EARLIER
4
Karen groaned when she spied the line of people gathered along the limestone steps in front of the house.
“Damnit. How did they all get here so fast?”
Jenny took out the newspaper and examined the page that they’d defaced circling ads inFlats to Let.
“Says here that viewing on this one’s from five and it’s only, what?” She checked her watch. “Still another hour before the landlord even gets here. Ah, this is hopeless, Karen. Look at all those people ahead – one of them is bound to snap it up.”
“But what can we do? We need to find somewhere to live – here, gimme a look at the paper again.”
Jenny handed her the crumpled evening newspaper, the ultimate bible for mid-nineties flat-hunters in Dublin – particularly the Rathmines suburb they were in.
