Page 42 of An Angel's Share
What a disaster. Mine, I don’t give a shit. But my friend, this woman who has done nothing other than love my cousin, love my family, has been shaken to the bottom of her heart. Tears fill my eyes as I get up and sit next to her, pull her into a hug, and we both cry. Her for her marriage, me for her.
19
Aoife
A whole bottleof Prosecco and countless cakes later, we finally leave the café. Climbing back into my car, I cast a look over at Christy. “Let’s go up onto the headland, Christy. Sit and watch the sea.”
We used to go there as teenagers. It was a lovely view, and the perfect place to make a plan. It was generally over some boy or other, no change there then. And now we really need one. I know I need to give Christy time to decide what she wants to do, to process what we’ve heard. And to be fair, myself also, but for different reasons.
Do I just go for it? Dump my fiancé immediately? Or do I wait? I feel very cold and calculating whilst I have to watch my childhood friend’s face, probably the most genuine woman I have ever met, certainly the nicest, go through a myriad of emotions. Every one intense, every one full of pain. My heart hardens towards my cousin.
I see her looking over at me, my face totally neutral. Sheprobably thinks I’m the same as her, and just in shock, but I’m not. Not about Liam anyway. Jonno though, and his cunning interrogation tactics? Yes, I am pissed about that. What if he thinks I am the thief. Is that why he’s gotten so close? Sticking to the old adage of keeping his enemies closer. I can see how such a logical mind as his would think I could be the thief. I’ll murder him. And do I really want to be with someone who could think that of me? I don’t think I do. That puts my mind into a spin. Jonno, how could you think that?
We pull up in silence and sit for a long while. No talking. I see the tears starting to really stream down Christy’s face and pull her across the car into a hug.
“Let’s get out, Christy, get some fresh air.” Brushing the wet hair from her face, I exit the car and go around and open her door, pulling her out.
We take up a position on a bench looking out over the Irish Sea. The sky is blue, the warm breeze floating across the green headland towards us. The noise from the sea below is constant, calming. But that might be just to me.
I take a deep breath and look at Christy. Her tears have dried on her face, but she’s so pale. I always find action to be a good distractor, so I go for it.
“We need a plan. Those women, I think they were talking the biggest load of bunkum. About Patrick anyway.”
She’s shaking her head as she stands up and starts shouting. Good job we’re on our own up here.
“You heard her, Aoife. She said Patrick couldn’t keep his hands off her after their night at a hotel. He hardly puts his hands on me these days. I assumed it was because he was a bit stressed. So I’ve waited it out. I didn’t want to put pressure on him. Shove my needs onto him. But obviouslynot, he’s not stressed at all. He’s fucking tired, from fucking someone else. Knackered as he’s busy chasing her all over our office building.” She’s storming backwards and forwards, waving her arms in the air. “Got other fish to fry. A bit on the side. Could he be any more basic. His fucking secretary.” She pauses, then starts again. “And I don’t know when ‘the night’ was. He's never not been at home?—”
Her face is a ball of fury. “But I suppose I should’ve known. I was his fucking secretary. I worked for him. He chased me around the office. Oh my God, I have been so blind. Done it once, can do it again.”
She stops and puts her head down, tears coursing down her face. “How could he? He should have said if he wasn’t interested. Been upfront. I’m hardly clingy. I’ve never complained when he’s gone for late meetings with his team. I’m an idiot.”
She’s hanging her head as if it’s her fault. “I’ve always been interested in him. I’ve overcompensated for years, made excuses for his lack of affection, his general disinterest. I always thought it was because he was so comfortable around me, he’s known me all his life. But turns out it’s not. He’s just not bothered. Oh god, I’m so bloody desperate.
“Aoife, What will I do? I’ll lose my home, my job. I’m only an O’Clery by marriage, no one will want me there if I leave him.” She plonks down next to me, her hands wringing in her lap as she starts to rock backwards and forwards.
I snort. “I will want you every day of the week. You are the best thing in that house. I’m telling you, Christy, I don’t think it is what you think. I think that woman was just saying it. Trying to compete. She said herself he was notinterested. They’re in competition with each other, trying to be the best bit on the side. Who is more loved. I don’t think Patrick is seeing her.” I grab both of her hands in mine and look directly into her eyes, conveying my confidence in what I’m saying.
She’s staring at me, and I think I see a little glimmer of hope in her eyes. “What shall we do? Are you going to carry on with Liam? I mean, he is the father of the baby. Aoife, what will you do?”
Dear Christy. She’s more concerned for me that she is herself. Her tears start to brim in her eyes again.
“Dump him,” I snap out harshly.
She gasps and looks at my tummy, putting her hands on my stomach. “Oh, Aoife, I just don’t get it. He comes across like he adores you.” She’s rubbing gently on my bump.
I sigh. I hate lying to her, but I have no choice. “Look, my situation with Liam wasn’t planned. I wasn’t really committed to him. Not in New York. Not like you and Patrick. This happened and I had to deal with it. Coming home has forced me into a course of action I didn’t really want at this moment in time. I could have done this on my own. But Mammy…” I roll my eyes.
Her eyes are wide, her jaw dropping open at my hard tone of voice. “I thought you loved him. He loves you.”
I look at her. “Really? Do you really think he does? According to Miss Soft Furnishings, he doesn’t, and never did. He and she are planning to raisemy babyin Dublin. Over my dead fucking body will she ever get her hands on my baby.”
Christy gasps at my venom. “What shall we do?”
“Nothing. Let’s do absolutely nothing. Get it going on Christy. Let’s make it so fucking hard for them. We are not rolling over. You need to get in her head, just like she istrying to get in yours. You are his wife. The mother of his fucking children. You are loved by everyone in that house. You, Christy, not her.” It’s my turn to stand up and pace like a demented goblin.
“But Patrick, he?—”
“No, not Patrick, you, Christy. This is all about you. That woman will not take your life. Unless you want to get rid of him?” I raise my eyebrows at her. “In that case, great, let’s go ballistic and dump them in tandem. Dermot will evict Patrick before he lets you leave with those kids.” I grin devilishly at her. “Besides, I’ve got a lovely place on the edge of the estate. You can have that. Work for the estate as before. He’ll have to cough up some cash. You’ll be fine financially.” Her mouth is open wide with my dismantling of her marriage and the set-up of her new life in one fell swoop.
