Page 5 of Love like the (Real) Reel Thing
So he wanted to keep his distance too. She should be happy that they were on the same page, but it felt like another slap.
“Honestly, Adam, it doesn’t matter to me whether you stay or go.”
Before he could say anything else, she left, trying not to run towards the door.
Outside, she slipped on her sunglasses, her eyes stinging as she walked back to the office.
Adam was a stark warning of what happened when she rushed headlong into something.
She’d email Anthony Neary to see how early she could leave for Linford. It was vital to put as much distance as she could between her and Adam.
CHAPTER 3
Jess braced herself for her mother’s fussing that evening. Ever since she’d returned home, Carmel Bradley had looked after her eldest daughter like she was a child again.
When she’d lost the baby at twelve weeks, Jess had been almost pathetically grateful to let her mother wait on her. She’d felt fragile and exhausted and would have simply stayed in bed if Carmel hadn’t gently coaxed her downstairs for food, or out for walks with her dad.
“The doctor says he needs to walk every day for his heart,” Carmel had said. “He’d be more likely to go out if he had a bit of company.”
Jess had guessed exactly what her mother was up to but had played along. The best thing about spending time with her dad was that he never asked awkward questions or talked about anything she didn’t want.
Now she realised that she’d probably been suffering from depression. Which was hardly a shock, she supposed, given that everything had happened so fast. Just a day after she and Simon had called off their wedding, she’d discovered she was pregnantwith Adam’s baby, thanks to their one-night-stand. A month later, Adam had persuaded her to move in with him, and Jess had told herself that it was fate.
She’d never again make the mistake of a rebound relationship.
She let herself in the front door and basked for a moment in the shabby comfort of her Victorian family home in Dun Laoghaire, half-tempted to simply slip upstairs to her childhood bedroom and chill out for a while before dinner.
“Jess? Is that you, love?”
Carmel – wearing her usual baggy jeans and ancient hospital clogs – came upstairs from the basement kitchen, and gave Jess a quick, shrewd once-over.
“How are you feeling?” Before Jess had a chance to reply, she continued briskly, “We’ll be eating at seven. Nana is coming over – your dad’s gone to collect her.”
“Oh, great!” Jess’s smile was genuine. “It’ll be good to see her.”
“I’d better check on the dinner. Sure, why don’t you come down and chat to me?”
Her mother meant well, but she wasn’t sure she could face any more tea and sympathy.
“Actually, Mam, I might just get out of my work stuff and grab a quick shower before we eat. I won’t be long.”
“How’s the pottery going, Nana?” Jess asked, as she joined the others at the dinner table shortly after seven.
Moira Bradley drank some wine and reached out to squeeze her granddaughter’s hand.
“I’m improving with age, Jess. Now, none of you have noticed what’s different about me.”
Jess glanced at her parents before turning back to Moira. As usual, the eighty-three-year-old was dressed in long, colourful layers, and her short, wavy hair was dyed a bright pink.
Jess looked a bit closer.
“Did you have a couple of new purple streaks put in, Nana?”
“Oh.” Moira put a hand to her hair. “Weeks ago. No, that’s not it.” Putting down her glass, she rolled up the sleeves of her blouse and flexed her arms. “What do you think?”
Carmel frowned at her. “You do look a bit more toned, Moira. Have you started going to that beginners Pilates class in Wicklow community centre?”
“I had a look at it.” Moira tutted. “Full of old people, so I didn’t stay. I’ve been lifting weights at the gym for the past two months. Two months, that’s all – and look how well I’m doing!”
