Mr Right for the Night (18 page)

Anna grimaced and said nothing.

‘But don’t think you’ve got the job yet,’ June added
spitefully. ‘There’s still plenty to be done around
here. I want a full sales report for last week on my
desk before you leave here this evening.’

The bloody bitch, Anna thought as June sashayed
out of the door. Just because
she
didn’t have anybody
taking her out tonight.

It didn’t feel like Valentine’s at all, Anna thought
as she sat in the bus with the fogged-up windows and
the disgusting smell of wet clothes drying. Mind you,
what was Valentine’s
supposed
to feel like? Were
you supposed to wake up with a loving feeling? Oh
God, no.

Anna was tired and feeling unbelievably unromantic.
Thank God Steve was cooking and she didn’t
have to go out to a restaurant and compete with
lots of other couples in a
who looks the most in love
? contest.

She pushed open the door of the flat. A strong
smell of curry came from downstairs making her
stomach rumble. She absolutely adored curry!

She’d better slip upstairs to make herself look
presentable. There was no way she was arriving
in his flat still dressed in her work clothes. In her
cubby hole she found a big white envelope. She
brought it upstairs and tore it open. It was a card
with a big gaudy gold and pink rose on it. She
opened it up.

To my Valentine,

You’re beautiful and clever and I still can’t

believe you’re mine.

Love, Jake

Very romantic not. Anna tossed the card across the
kitchen counter. The cheek of him writing a message
like that! Who did he think he was?

And by the way, where the hell was Rich’s card?

Anna slumped down on a chair. Valentine’s day
was depressing.

She began to get ready.

She hadn’t even shaved her legs and it was almost
eight o’clock.

An unexpected knock on the door made her jump.

She opened it slightly, aware that only one leg was
shaved, the other resembling a small forest. Surreptitiously
she moved the forest behind the door.

It was Steve. He was carrying the most enormous
bunch of roses she’d ever laid eyes on.

Anna was so overwhelmed her eyes filled with
tears.

‘Steve,’ she sighed, ‘you shouldn’t have.’

‘I didn’t.’ He looked uncomfortable. ‘They’re not
from me. Someone delivered them earlier on but you
weren’t here so I offered to take them in for you.’

Who are they from, Anna wondered as she struggled
to find a vase for the roses that seemed to have
taken on a mind of their own. Rich. They must be
from him. How sweet!

‘Anyway, dinner’s ready. Are you?’

‘Just a minute.’ Anna winked. She had to shave the
 
other leg and make sure the iron was unplugged and
the heater was switched off.

After all, she had absolutely no intention of coming
back to this flat tonight.

Elaine was busy, busy, busy. No time for chitchat.

‘What are you doing for lunch?’ Anna asked her
eventually, cornering her in the stockroom.

‘I’m meeting a friend,’ Elaine said coldly.

‘Who?’

‘Nobody you know.’

‘Is there something bothering you?’

‘Why did you lie to me?’ Elaine was blunt.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I think you know exactly what I mean.’ Elaine’s
eyes danced dangerously in her head. ‘You lied to
me about your interview.’

‘What!’

‘Anna, come off it. You said you made a balls of
it.’

‘I did,’ Anna raised her voice higher than she
intended. ‘I honestly did.’

‘Well, they obviously didn’t think so in head office,
did they?’ Elaine’s voice was brittle.

‘I don’t know what happened. You know as well
as I do that I didn’t even particularly want the friggin’
job. If it was up to me I’d give it to you.’

‘Thanks.’ Elaine looked at her with steady contempt.
‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve work to be
done,’ she snapped before turning on her heel.

Anna ate lunch alone.

But the food lay practically untouched on the plate
in front of her.

What was Elaine’s problem? You’d swear she’d
just gone and got herself a top government position
the way Elaine was carrying on.

After lunch, she wandered around Grafton Street
killing time. She was in no hurry to get back to
Lolta’s. A fresh breeze danced with her hair and
lifted her spirits slightly. Why was she so afraid
of the promotion anyway? Was it the change? But
didn’t they say a change was as good as a rest?

After all, once Steve finished his finals he’d probably
vanish from her life. Anna wasn’t a complete
fool. She knew Steve wasn’t the kind of guy to
hang around a rented flat in Ranelagh for the rest
of his days. And anyway the promotion wouldn’t
do her bank balance any harm. Best of all, she
wouldn’t have June at her throat like a ravenous
Rottweiler.

Anna paced up Grafton Street thinking hard. Yes,
it would definitely be worth it. Even if it meant
living in a field in Ballydehob, she was going to
take this promotion very seriously. Imagine the look
on her ex-classmates’ faces when she, Anna Allstone,
announced she was an assistant manager. That’d
give them something to put in their pipes.

The atmosphere in Lolta’s was fraught with tension.
Elaine was buzzing around the store as if a
wasp was stuck to her ear. Anna continued to work
mechanically. The sooner she got out of this place
the better, she conceded, redirecting queues at the
checkouts. Why had she ever considered staying in
the first place?

She was home early. An Indian takeaway flyer was
pinned to her door. On it was scrawled a message.

Rich rang from London. Says he’s a speaking part in
Casualty
. What’s the story? Grainne
.

Anna whipped it down and shoved it into her
bag. She knocked on Steve’s door. No answer. Of
c
ourse, she suddenly remembered, he was studying
late tonight. He wouldn’t be home till at least ten.
No harm, Anna thought. She quite fancied a night in
for a change. The last few nights had been seriously
hectic. She dragged herself into her flat. A damp,
depressing, early evening mist had found its way into
the flat and hung gloomily in the air. Anna made a
beeline for the electric heater, whipped the curtains
closed and switched on the kettle. She sat on the sofa
and removed the RTÉ
Guide from her briefcase.

The place was eerily quiet. She turned up the
volume on the telly and hoped the nurses weren’t
trying to sleep. She’d soon know if they were, of
course – Grainne and Sandra weren’t shy about
hammering on the ceiling.

The kettle gave a brief whistle and snapped itself
off. Anna tore herself away from the comfort of the
sofa and poured herself a cuppa. She pushed the sofa
nearer the telly, grabbed a blanket from the bedroom
and a box of Pringles from the press. Now she was all
set. What was on the box at all?
Coronation Street
was wrapping up. Damn. She hadn’t seen
Corrie
for
ages. Now she wouldn’t have a clue what the girls
in the canteen were yapping on about. She flicked
channels. RTE´ news was on. Sure she might as well
watch that. Keep herself up to date on current affairs.
She yawned lazily as some politician droned on and
on about something irrelevant. Well, irrelevant to
Anna anyway. It was funny to watch people in the
background pretending to be interested. One man
stood beside the politician, frowning as the rain
fogged up his glasses. He probably wasn’t listening
at all but was acutely aware that people at home
might see him. It was a gas. Two young inner-city
type boys were jumping up and down madly. A
couple hurried past under a big umbrella. The man’s
arm was wrapped protectively around his wife’s
waist. He looked a bit like Jake. Jesus flipping
Christ, it was Jake! Anna knocked over her tea,
scalding her lap. She screamed. The
prick
! Jake
was supposed to be out of town. That’s what he’d
told
her
anyway. But according to RTÉ
he was very
much in town. The two-timing rat!

Raging, she rummaged through her little black
book. She wasn’t going to let him get away with
this. She found his number and, fired up with anger,
she stomped down the stairs not quite knowing what
she was going to say to him.

She let her fingers fumble for the digits.

He answered. She let two twenty-pence pieces fall
into the slot. This was very uncool, she decided. It
was time to get one of those rotten little mobiles.

‘Hi, it’s me,’ she said, which was ridiculous really
because she knew full well her number was flashing
on his phone.

‘It’s . . . er you,’ he answered foolishly. Anna
gritted her teeth to stop herself from screaming at
him. She could hear loud traffic. They must have
been heading towards Stephen’s Green.

‘Thanks for your card.’ She stuck in a fifty and
another twenty. Jesus, calls to mobiles ate money.

‘You’re welcome,’ he said, his voice filling with
alarm. ‘Listen, can I ring you back?’

‘Oh no,’ Anna explained dangerously, ‘I
miss
you.
I want to hear your voice.’ She was enjoying this.
‘Can you come over?’

‘No,’ he gave an odd-sounding screech, ‘I can’t,
I’m just outside Dundalk,’ A blatant lie. ‘It’ll take
me a while to get over.’

‘Right,’ Anna played along, ‘because I’m in bed
and I’m bored.’

‘I can come over later though,’ Jake explained
eagerly.

‘Oh, that’ll be too late,’ Anna gave a mock sigh.

‘But tell you what, if you get home before the late
edition of the RTE´ news be sure to tune in. If not,
get your mother to video it.’

‘Why?’

‘Oh you’ll see,’ Anna said sharply. ‘Goodnight and
good luck.’

She cut him off. Dead.

‘You did not. I don’t believe it.’ Claire nearly dropped
the phone.

‘Too right I did,’ Anna began to chuckle. She
couldn’t help it. She tried to picture Jake’s face
confronted with his five minutes of fame.

‘You know, I never really trusted Jake,’ Claire
admitted. She’d always thought Simon’s colleague
was too smooth for his own good. Well, Anna was
well rid of him now.

‘Thanks for telling me,’ Anna said huffily.

‘Well, it’s not like I shoved you into his arms,’
Claire retorted. ‘Anyway, in a way you’ve a bit of
a cheek being angry with him. Aren’t you supposed
to be going out with thingumajig?’

‘Rich?’

‘No, the student.’

‘Steve?’

‘Yeah.’

‘That’s different,’ Anna said defensively.

Claire giggled. She couldn’t help it. Anna was
so unbelievably self-righteous. She blamed men for
everything yet was just as bad as them. Worse even.
Oh well, she was right, wasn’t she? Pity there weren’t
more women like Anna about. Men like Jake needed
a kick up the ass. Soon Claire was laughing loudly
down the phone.