Read Mr Right for the Night Online

Authors: Marisa Mackle

Tags: #Humorous, #Fiction

Mr Right for the Night (36 page)

BOOK: Mr Right for the Night
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Tonight  had been her chance. Sometimes you got one  shot  at  something. Then  the  moment  passed. And you never got it back.

She took  a  long  hard  drag,  taking  care  to  lean out  of  the  window  
to  prevent  the  smoke  sneak
ing back  into  her  bedroom. She’d kept  this  secret for  fifteen  years,  no  point  in letting  the  folks  find out now.

She remembered   feelin
g  a  bit  like  this  in  sum
mer camp  centuries  ago.  She’d fancied  a lad called Martin O’Kelly with blond  hair. He looked  like the twins  from  BROS.  All  the  girls  used  to  make  a beeline for him at the ladies’ choice at the ceilithe.

Anna remembered  walking  ever so slowly across the hall floor, her hands sweating, her face the colour of  her  red  sleeveless  jumper.   But  just  before  she reached him, she lost her nerve and asked his rather  ugly friend to dance instead.

The friend  had  thrown back  his big curly mousy head and roared  with laughter.

Anna  had  stood  facing  him,  rooted  to  the  spot and realized  that  whatever  happened to her during the rest of her life, nothing,  but nothing,  would ever be as humiliating as this.

‘Well, will you  dance  with  my friend  so?’ Anna had  said  in a desperate
  bid  to  conceal  her  morti
fication.

‘Which one is she?’ the ugly guy had sneered. Anna  turned   and,  to  her  horror, realized  that
every other girl in the room was dancing. Everybody except her.

‘Is your friend better  looking  than  you?’

‘Forget it,’ Anna had told him and walked away as the hoots  of laughter  grew louder  behind  her back.

So the following  morning,  when she jumped  into the  shallow  end  of the  swimming  pool  and  broke her  foot,  she didn’t  feel any  pain.  No  pain  at  all. In fact she was elated that  she wouldn’t  have to ask anybody else to dance.

She’d sat through the rest of the ceilithe with her crutches on her lap, thrilled that everybody felt sorry for her, delighted that she didn’t have to do anything  but sit there and gratefully  accept the sympathy.

That’s  why  on  the  very  last  night,   when   she eventually  got  talking   to  the  hard-to-get Martin, she  was surprised  to find him very down  to earth. He told her he thought she was pretty.  He said he was sorry  he  hadn’t  had  the  chance  to talk  to her before. He told her it was a pity her foot was sore so she couldn’t dance with him. And that night back in the dormitory, she’d bawled and bawled. Her friends had circled around her and asked what  was wrong. And she told them it was because it was the last night and she was so sad that she wouldn’t  be seeing them again. But the  truth  was,  she was  devastated that Martin had  fancied  her all along  and  nobody  had told  her.  She  was  heartbroken because  she  knew that  the  following  day  his parents  would  drive up from  Cork  to collect him and she’d never, ever see him again. If only she’d asked him to dance that first night instead of that other fecking eejit. If only she’d followed  her heart  that  first night.

If only . . .

But that was a long time ago. She was a child then. She hadn’t known any better. This was different. She was thirty now.

 

Chapter FORTY-THREE

‘It’s great  to see you again,  Anna.  I’m so glad you rang. I’ve missed you, believe it or not.’

They were sitting in the BT2 coffee shop looking down  on the throngs  of shoppers  hurrying  through Grafton Street and colliding with bewildered tourists  trying to take photos.

‘I’ve missed you too, Mark.’  Anna smiled at him. She
had
missed him. At least she could admit it now without feeling like it was something  to be ashamed of. ‘Galway’s great but it’s not the same without you around to spy on me all the time.’

‘Ah,  that’s  so  sweet.’  Mark   gave  a  big  cheesy grin.

The coffee shop  was crowded.  Anna  hoped  that nobody  would  overhear  what  she was about  to say to  Mark.   Suddenly  she  didn’t  feel  that   this  was the  right time  or  place  to  be  discussing  anything serious. Wasn’t it so much easier to discuss feelings and things with a load of alcohol  in you?

Anna had a three o’clock appointment with the hairdresser. She had to get this over with  fast. All of a sudden  she had  a much  better  idea.  It would be  so  much  simpler  just  to  ask  him  to  the  party now  and  then  snog  him  afterwards at  the  party or  whatever.  Then  it  wouldn’t  be  so  intense.  She said  nothing  for  a  few  minutes.  Then  she  took  a deep breath.

‘Mark?’

‘Uh huh?’

‘It’s my school  reunion  tonight.’

‘Ah.’ He leaned forward and stared  deep into her eyes. She wanted  to kiss him there  and  then.  God, how had  she resisted  him all these years? ‘So it all makes sense now.’

‘What do you mean?’ Anna  was confused.

‘I thought for a moment  there that  you had come all the way home just to meet me for coffee. I should have known  there was something  else going on,’ he said with a glint in his eye.

‘Well, I wanted  to see you too.’

‘Ah thanks.’

‘The thing  is, Mark  . . .’

‘Jesus, isn’t that  Johnny  down  there?’

‘Where?’

‘There,  see  over  there.  He’s  put  on  about   two stone.   Must   have  given  up  the  rugby.   It  often happens.’

‘Right.’ Anna  was getting  impatient.

‘Go on anyway,  you were saying something.’

‘I want  you to come with  me.’

‘Where?’

‘To the reunion.’

‘You’re joking.’

‘I’m not.  Partners  have been invited.’

‘That’s stupid.  It’s not really a reunion  then, is it? I mean,  a reunion  is supposed  to be about  catching up and that.’

‘Well,  it’s  really  more  of  a  party.   That’s  why partners are being invited.’

‘And you  want  me  to  be  your  partner for  the night?’ Mark  asked, a look of complete  puzzlement  on  his face. ‘Sure, nobody  would  believe that.’  He broke  into  spontaneous  laughter,   ‘You  and  me? That’s  ridiculous,   Anna.   I  just  wouldn’t   be  able to  pull  it  off.  I mean,  what  would  you  want  me to do? Hold your  hand?’  He laughed  again.

Anna felt a surge of intense irritation. She looked at  her watch.  It was a quarter to three.  She didn’t have time for games now.  ‘Yes or no?’

‘No,’ he said.  ‘Sorry, Anna.’

If he’d slapped  her face, she couldn’t  have  been more shocked.  Her  heart  sank  below  sea level. She felt   herself   become   warm   and   then   hotter   and even  hotter as the  humiliation became  almost  too unbearable to endure.

‘Why not?’  She tried  to  sound  casual  but  failed miserably.

‘If I’d got a bit more  notice  maybe  . . .’

Oh  the  bastard!
  ‘What  are  you  doing  tonight then?’ Christ,  she sounded  like her mother.

‘Oh,  one  of  the  girls  in  work   got  tickets   for something  in  the  Gaiety  . . .  some  comedy,  don’t ask me the name  of it.’

‘Can’t you say no?’

‘No.’

‘Well, she must be really special.’ Anna knew she sounded  spiteful  although she didn’t  mean  it.  She was  heartbroken.  And  in  shock.   Mark   had  just turned  her  down.  This  was  real  pain.  She’d never get over  this. Never.  Until  the  day  she died  she’d never ever recover  from  this.

‘She’s a nice girl. Nice looking too. Anyway I said
I’d go, so that’s  it.’

‘And she’s a friend,  is she? Like me?’

‘She is at the moment  . . . but  after  tonight, who knows?  You  know  me,  Anna.  I’d find it way  too hard to remain  friends  with  an attractive woman.’ Anna  stared,  too  shocked  to  say anything.  Had
he any idea what  he was saying to her? She’d been his friend  for ten fecking years! He must  think  she was a horrendous old boot!

‘Are you  rushing  off or  what?’  he asked  as she stood up.

‘I’m afraid  I have to get going.’ Keep your  cool, she  told  herself as she carefully  buttoned her coat. You’ll get over this rejection somehow,  like you got over Darren, Steve, Emmet, Rich and all the others. You’ll get over it. God  knows  how,  but  you will.

‘Oh, that’s a pity. We didn’t get to have much of a chat.’ He stood up too. ‘Listen, you enjoy yourself tonight, do you hear?’

‘Yes,’ Anna  said,  d
istraught. This  was  a  night
mare.  It really was.

‘And remember to keep in touch, Anna, you really are a really really good  friend.’

‘And  you,  Mark,’   she  picked  up  her  handbag and  looked  him  straight
  in  the  eye,  ‘are  a  fuck
ing prick.’

 

‘I just cannot  believe you said that,’  Claire  gasped.

‘Well, I did,’ Anna said tonelessly into the payphone at the door  of the hairdressers. ‘I just lost it.’

‘I just can’t believe you said that.’

‘Would you stop  saying you can’t believe what  I
said? What  about  what 
he
said?’

‘What did he say exactly?’

‘More or less that  he wouldn’t  touch  me if I was the last woman  on earth.’

‘Are you sure you didn’t take him up wrong? Are you  sure he wasn’t  just getting  back  at you for all the times you said you were too  busy for him?’

‘This  is  different,   Claire,   this   is  so  different. I’ll  talk  to  you  later,  they’re  calling  me  over  to the basin.’

‘So you’re definite
ly coming  to the reunion  any
way?’

‘Of course  I am.  You know  me – made  of steel, I am.’ Anna replaced  the receiver as a lone hot tear slid down  her cheek.

She wasn’t going to do anything  drastic.  No hair chopping or anything.  Women always did that when they were suddenly dumped.  But not Anna. She was going to be strong and go for a few subtle highlights,  and a blow-dry. After all, it was bad enough, turning  up alone without looking  like she’d double-crossed a lawnmower.

‘Are  you  going  anywhere   nice?’  asked   Mandy, the super skinny hairdresser with  the luminous  pink hair.

‘Yes,’ Anna   muttered,  not   exactly   anxious   to explain her business over the noise of the hairdryer.

‘With your  fella, is it?’

‘No, just out  with  the girls actually.’

‘Oh,  is it  a  hen’s?  I was  at  one  last  night.  Me head’s still killing me. It was brilliant though. Debbie had this big L sign stuck to her bra and this stripper  turned up . . .’

Anna  let  her  ramble   on  without  commenting, determined she’d never ever have anything so ghastly as a  hen  night.  Mind  you,  what  chance  was  there of  her  ever  having  a  hen  night  anyway?  Ha!  She couldn’t even get herself a miserable date. Not  even with Mark who’d no problem  dating  half of Dublin but  had  a major problem  being seen with  her.  She tried to take no notice as Mandy  yanked her hair to within  an inch of its life and nearly burned  the top of her head  twice.  Beauty meant  pain.  You had  to suffer. Not  that  she realistically thought she’d ever suffer as much  as she was doing now.

‘That’s  lovely,’  she  said,  glancing  in  the  round mirror  held to the back  of her head.

‘Have a good  night,’  Mandy  stuck  her tip in the back of her skin-tight  jeans.  ‘Don’t go too  mad.’

Don’t  worry,  I  won’t
,  Anna  thought. The  only madness about  tonight  was  the  fact  that  she  was turning  up alone. A fruitless three-month search for Mr  Right  for  the  night  had  come  to  nothing.  She had to admit  the couple of hours  in the hairdresser had  done  her  the  world  of good  even though  she hadn’t   actually  stopped   reeling  from   her  earlier conversation with  Mark.   Imagine!   All  this  time she’d thought him so  charming.  And to think  that all he’d ever felt for her was sympathy.  Good friend, me arse!

Next stop was the sunbed room. She shot through the  open  door  hoping  that  nobody  she knew  had spotted her.

‘Hi, Anna,’  the chocolate-coloured, white-haired receptionist beamed.  ‘If you’d  like to  have  a seat. One of the beds should  be free soon.’

Anna took  a seat beside a young guy who looked like he was probably in a boy band.  He didn’t seem remotely  perturbed  about   sitting   in  a  sunroom. Imagine  being  that  cocky,  Anna  marvelled.

Suddenly  a  door  swung  open  and  a  red-faced, red-haired girl  came  out  apologetically. God,  she wasn’t brown  at all, Anna thought sympathetically. What a waste  of money.

The  boy-band  boy  sauntered  in,  hands   in  his combat  pockets,  whistling  a tune. Anna stared  after him  intrigued. She hoped  the  person  in  the  other sunbed  would  hurry  up. Come  on, how  long did it take one person  to get dressed?

The door  swung open again.  Anna automatically rose  to  her  feet.  About  flippin’  time!  She  almost collided into  the sallow-skinned man  coming  out.

‘Sorry,’ he muttered without looking  up.

BOOK: Mr Right for the Night
2.28Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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