Stand by Me (12 page)

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Authors: Sheila O'Flanagan

Tags: #Fiction, #General

BOOK: Stand by Me
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‘No,’ she told him. ‘Just too excited to sleep, although Brendan is dead to the world.’
 
‘He’s a good sleeper, is Bren,’ said Greg. ‘Likes his eight hours. Gets up early, though.’
 
Dominique scrunched up her nose. ‘Not good,’ she said. ‘I hate the morning.’
 
‘Night owl?’ asked Greg.
 
‘Only since I met Brendan,’ she told him. ‘Which kind of contradicts what you’ve said, because we usually stay out really late.’
 
‘Maybe you’ve changed him,’ Greg told her.
 
‘Maybe.’ Dominique smiled. ‘Though I’m not sure that people can change other people.’
 
‘You’re probably right about that.’ Greg took a sip of his whiskey.
 
‘Are you OK?’ asked Dominique again. ‘You seem a bit down.’
 
‘Me? Down?’ Greg shook his head. ‘No.’
 
‘You’re not thinking of becoming a priest, are you?’
 
‘What!’ There was complete astonishment in Greg’s voice.
 
‘It’s just that Gabriel goes all kind of thoughtful like you,’ Dominique told him. ‘You remind me of him sometimes.’ She grinned. ‘I told Emma that you were Gabriel-lite.’
 
‘Ah, Emma,’ said Greg.
 
Dominique nodded. ‘She sort of has this unrequited love thing going on with Gabriel,’ she told him.
 
‘Oh.’
 
‘It’s just because she can’t have him,’ said Dominique. ‘Emma usually gets whoever she wants.’
 
‘So you introduced her to me even though you knew she was pining after the priest?’
 
Dominique grinned. ‘I thought you’d take her mind off him. She only
thinks
she’s pining.’
 
‘I asked her out.’
 
‘Did you?’
 
‘She seemed . . . sympathetic.’
 
‘Not a quality I’d generally have attributed to Emma Walsh,’ said Dominique. ‘But maybe you’re good for her.’
 
‘You think?’
 
‘Possibly. Is she going to go out with you?’
 
Greg nodded. ‘I’m meeting her tomorrow.’
 
‘I know I kind of threw her at you.’ Dominique frowned. ‘And I’m glad you asked her out, but it will be a bit awkward if you hit it off, what with you living in Cork and her in Dublin.’
 
‘Yes.’ Greg laughed suddenly. ‘Maybe that’s why I asked her. No chance of being trapped.’
 
‘Like Brendan?’ Dominique’s voice was edgy.
 
‘Of course not, Domino. None of us think you trapped Brendan. We all think you’ll be good for him.’
 
‘You do?’
 
He nodded. ‘Mam thinks you’re lovely. So does Dad.’ He smiled slightly. ‘So do I. You looked really beautiful today too.’
 
‘Thank you.’
 
He was sweet, she thought, always trying to make her feel welcome. ‘What about June? And Roy?’ she asked suddenly. ‘What do they think?’
 
‘Roy’s only a kid,’ said Greg dismissively. ‘He knows nothing. And June ...’
 
Dominique didn’t remind Greg that Roy was only a few months younger than her. She was more interested in his thoughts about his sister, who, she’d thought, had been very dismissive of her.
 
‘June’s always felt a bit special, being the only girl. I think she’s a tiny bit jealous.’
 
‘She needn’t be,’ Dominique said. ‘I’m only a blow-in.’
 
‘That’s true,’ Greg teased her. ‘The Dublin jackeen.’
 
‘Sod off, you Cork culchie.’
 
They both laughed, and then Dominique yawned.
 
‘I’m suddenly tired,’ she said. ‘Which is a good thing. I’d better get back to bed.’
 
Greg nodded.
 
‘How about you?’ she said. ‘Not tired at all yet?’
 
‘No.’
 
‘And you’re sure you’re OK?’
 
‘Absolutely.’
 
‘Right then.’ She got up. ‘I’ll say good night.’
 
‘Sleep well, Domino,’ he said.
 
‘You too.’
 
He got up when she did. He smiled at her, then hugged her awkwardly and kissed her on the cheek.
 
Dominique walked over to the lifts and pressed the call button. She glanced back at Greg before she stepped in to the lift, but he was sitting down staring into space again, not looking in her direction. Then the doors slid closed and she was whisked upstairs to her sleeping husband.
 
Chapter 6
 
Dominique loved Majorca.
 
She loved the bright sun and the endlessly blue skies. She loved having breakfast overlooking the sea and dinner in the open air. She loved watching her skin gradually change from porcelain to light gold, and she loved the smell of heat on her body as she lay beneath the colourful parasols.
 
Brendan was surprised that she didn’t burn because she was so naturally pale. But she was slavish about covering herself in protection cream, only venturing out from beneath the parasol when the shadows started to lengthen along the beach. Brendan himself spent most of his time beneath the parasol too, or at the shaded beachside bar, drinking beer and water in equal measure. He couldn’t sit out in the sun at all, not even later in the afternoons, when the searing heat had gone out of it. No matter how much cream he put on himself, he still turned lobster red and his skin peeled off in handfuls.
 
He was looking forward to getting back to the cooler air of Dublin and starting on his next building project. The extension on Donard Road would be finished by the time he got back, and they were going to do a similar job on another house nearby. He’d also been asked to quote for a much bigger extension to a house in Tallaght, and he hoped that he’d be able to close a deal on buying some land to build on. He knew that it would work out for him, because the land was the field in which he’d made love to Domino for the first time which, as far as he was concerned, showed it was meant to be.
 
Brendan believed in fate and chance and he was convinced that his luck had begun to improve ever since the day he’d first sat at Domino’s table in American Burger. He didn’t really know why he felt luckier with her in his life but he knew that he did. Besides, she was the loveliest girl he’d ever gone out with. She didn’t seem to see it herself because she was always faffing around with mascara and blusher and being supercritical of how she looked, but the truth was that her combination of dark hair and ivory skin was stunning. (Despite her affection for her new golden colour, he was looking forward to her tan fading again.)
 
He’d been thinking about marriage to her before she dropped the pregnancy bombshell, but he hadn’t been ready to ask. However, there wasn’t a rat’s chance in hell that he’d leave her and his future son living in that creepy house with her crabby mother and henpecked father. They both deserved better than that, and he’d give it to them.
 
He thought about the site again and the serendipity that had brought them to it. After they’d made love beneath the chestnut tree and were walking towards the road (squelching, really; it had become very muddy and Domino had been yelping that her shoes would be wrecked), he’d spotted the estate agent’s sign in the corner. He’d phoned them the following Monday, seen the bank manager and now the deal was under way. He was looking forward to starting the houses when the deal was eventually completed, and in the meantime there was plenty of work on the house extensions. He’d keep the same crew for the building work. Peader, of course. Then Miley, Micko, Christy and George. Between them they’d get the houses built quickly and they’d make a good profit. Brendan knew that the best money to be made was in working for yourself. He wanted to make money. Lots of it. He didn’t want to be like so many Irish people he knew, who’d had to go abroad to make a living. He’d done it for a while, of course. Almost everyone he knew had. He’d worked on sites in Birmingham and Liverpool and had learned a lot about how to run a crew. Now he was ready to do it for himself, and do it at home.
 
He gazed towards the sea and saw Domino paddling at the water’s edge. He needed to make money now to support his wife and child. Getting married and having children had always been on his agenda. Brendan liked family life and he missed it sharing the house in Dublin. Until he met Domino he used to go home three weekends out of four to get his fix of the relaxed atmosphere of his parents’ house. He wanted to recreate that with Domino and their children. He hoped they’d have a large family. Though not yet. He didn’t want her to spend most of her youth being pregnant. He wanted to have a lot of that hot lovemaking again first.
 
Brendan smiled as he thought of Domino in bed, where all of her usual inhibitions seemed to simply disappear. Her acid-faced, sanctimonious mother would be astonished, Brendan told himself, if she realised just how passionate her daughter was between the sheets. How willing she was to try new things and how much energy she put into their lovemaking. Brendan had been pleasantly astonished himself. And it was Domino’s ability to seem prim on the outside while being anything but in private that made him certain that she was the girl for him.
 
He was looking forward to being a father, too. He liked the idea of taking his son to hurling matches and maybe even the occasional soccer match; even though he regarded soccer as a lightweight game in comparison to traditional Irish sports, he did follow, in a casual way, the fortunes of Liverpool Football Club. He’d gone to a few of their matches when he was working there and felt an affinity towards them. So if his son got involved in football at all, it would be Liverpool he’d learn to support. But Cork for the hurling. Obviously.
 
He watched as Domino walked into the sparkling sea and began swimming away from him. She was an unorthodox swimmer, thrashing through the water and churning it up, but she could keep going for much longer than him. Now, a good distance from the shore, she faced the beach and trod water. He knew that she couldn’t see him. She was utterly blind without her glasses. She hadn’t worn them on their wedding day, and she’d told him that she’d had to trust that it was him standing at the altar waiting for her, because all she could see as she walked up the aisle were blobs in suits. He’d laughed at that. She was great at making him laugh. She loved teasing him and joking with him. She loved - so she told him - having fun.
 
He could understand that. He knew that her life at home hadn’t been much fun. And how could it have been, he asked himself, when it was lived with those two aul’ cranks? Brendan had little time for Seamus and Evelyn’s brand of religion, which was critical and unforgiving and concentrated far too much (in his view) on feeling guilty. Once, after a particularly inventive bout of lovemaking, Domino had disappeared into the small shower in his house and had spent ages there, using up all of the hot water. When he’d asked what on earth had kept her so long, she’d blushed and told him that she’d needed to wash away her sin. And then she’d blurted out that it couldn’t have been a sin because she loved him so much and it had been so great, but she couldn’t help feeling that something that good just had to be bad too.
 
Those people had messed with her head, Brendan thought grimly. And the priest-in-training brother hadn’t helped either. However, it would be totally different from now on. She was married to him and they were going to have a baby and he was going to make loads of money so that their future would be secure. Domino didn’t yet know just how rich he was going to make them.
 
She walked out of the sea, water dripping from her body.
 
‘Hey, Domino!’ he called. ‘Over here.’
 
He saw her squint and waved vigorously until she spotted him. She trudged her way through the sand and sat down beside him.
 
‘Enjoy?’ he asked as he ordered a lemon juice for her. (Except for the champagne at their wedding reception, she’d given up alcohol when she’d discovered she was pregnant.)
 
‘The best week of my life,’ she told him simply. ‘Without question.’
 
‘Mine too.’ He kissed her on the lips. ‘Even though my poor burnt shoulders will never be the same again.’
 
 
His shoulders were still a bit raw when they got back to Ireland, and he winced every so often as the rough fabric of his polo shirt scratched against the sensitive patches. Domino teased him unmercifully about it, revelling in her own unaccustomed tan and her now completely clear skin.

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