The Kinsella Sisters (28 page)

Because Shane didn’t call to her door the next morning, Río decided to call on him.

He answered the door bare-chested, in loose cotton pyjama bottoms.

‘Good morning!’ said Río brightly, trying to overcompensate for her hangover. ‘Where did you get to last night? You missed a great session in O’Toole’s.’

‘There was a session in O’Toole’s? Why did nobody tell me?’

‘You disappeared off the face of the planet clutching Isabella Bolger’s jacket to your heart. I figured you might have other things on your mind.’ Río smiled sweetly at him as she passed through into the living room.

‘Jesus, Río! You didn’t think—’

‘I will not condemn you, Shane, and I will not criticise you. What you do with your private life is none of my business. Where’s Finn?’

‘Finn didn’t come back here last night. I guess he ended up staying with Miriam.’

‘Miriam? Never! He’s always looked on her as a sister.’

‘You could have fooled me, the way they were carrying on last night.’

Río’s eyes took in the empty cafetiére on the coffee table, the
mug with dregs, the script covered in scribbled notes, the orange highlighter pen, the open laptop. ‘Looks like you’ve been up for a while,’ she said. ‘It seems an awful shame to be working on a bank holiday when everyone else is in leisure mode.’

‘I didn’t know it was a bank holiday,’ said Shane.

‘All you needed to do was look through the window at all the miserable holiday-makers dripping in the rain.’ Río flopped down on the sofa, and picked up the script. ‘You been studying lines? Hey! You get to snog someone called Akasha. “Seth presses his lips against Akasha’s. She resists at first, but Seth’s expertise proves irresistible and the kiss grows passionate.” Hm. Is this Akasha hot?’

‘They’re all hot. I work in Hollywood, remember?’

Río gave him a curious look. ‘What’s it like, having to snog strange women?’

‘Embarrassing. It’s no fun at all. I only enjoy snogging women I adore.’

‘You must have adored plenty in your time.’

‘“In my time?” Are you implying that my time for adoring women is over?’

‘Not likely. Sure won’t they be forming a queue to be adored by you, you gorgeous ride?’

Shane gave her a cynical look. ‘They don’t want to be adored, Río. They just want to screw a star, so they can boast about it from the rooftops, or stick it in their blog. Hardly anyone in the film business screws around these days. It’s too dangerous.’

‘Because of STDs?’

‘STDs, hell. If you’re really unlucky, you might end up in Rip-Off Report.’

‘What’s Rip-Off Report?’

‘An online site that’s meant to be for consumer complaints, but where you can–conveniently enough–post any kind of scurrilous shite you like.’

‘Such as?’

‘Such as: “Shane Byrne is, like, totally crap in bed. He has the smallest dick I have ever seen, he can’t get it up, and he is a beyond lousy kisser.’”

‘But that’s totally untrue!’ Río leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

‘Thank you, sweetheart! If it ever happens, I’ll ask you to write a rebuttal.’

Shane’s laptop pinged, to indicate that an email had come in.

‘Bollocks,’ he said, checking it out.

‘What is it?’

A questionnaire from my agent. It’s for
Variety!

‘Hey, let’s fill it in! I love questionnaires.’

‘Be my guest. I hate them.’ Shane stood up and stretched, then ambled towards the kitchen.

‘Don’t be a spoilsport!’ Río angled his laptop so she could scan the text. ‘All you need to do is come up with some makey-uppy shite, and I’ll type it in for you.’

‘Go ahead, then,’ said Shane, with a manifest lack of enthusiasm.

Río hummed the
Mastermind
theme tune as she clicked and scrolled. ‘Question One: “What is your idea of perfect happiness?”’

‘What kind of a dumb-ass question’s that to ask a red-blooded male?’

‘I’m sure you can come up with
something
that doesn’t have to do with sex,’ Río told him archly.

‘OK. How’s this? My idea of perfect happiness is dining in O’Toole’s seafood restaurant with my family and friends.’

Río raised an eyebrow at him.

‘It’s true. Last night was the best fun I’ve had in ages. I just wish I hadn’t missed out on that session.’

‘It was a good one, all right.’

‘It must have been a great welcome home for Finn. I hope you got maudlin enough to sing “Wild Rover” for him.’

‘Finn wasn’t there.’

‘Oh? So, who all ended up downstairs?’

‘Just me and Adair. And about a hundred locals.’

‘Adair? Baldy Adair, the boring millionaire?’

‘He’s not boring, actually.’

‘OK. Baldy Adair the charismatic, fascinating, scintillating and nimble-witted millionaire.’

Río shot him a look, and Shane said: ‘Well, to judge by the way you were laughing at his remarks last night, he must be all that and then some.’ Sending her an urbane smile, he turned his back on her, and busied himself with something at the kitchen counter.

‘We’ll carry on with the questionnaire, shall we?’ said Río, resisting the impulse to retaliate with some sarky remark about the millionaire’s scintillating daughter.

‘Question two: “What is your greatest extravagance?’”

There came a sound of a champagne cork popping, and Río looked up. Shane was standing with a bottle of O’Toole’s finest in his hand. ‘My greatest extravagance,’ he said, ‘is opening bottles of champagne on random occasions.’

‘Good answer!’ said Río. ‘Except I shouldn’t really indulge. I still feel a bit drunk from last night.’

‘Good. That means you’ll be drunk again after a glass.’

‘Why do you want to get me drunk?’

‘So that I can seduce you, of course.’

‘Ha.’

Shane poured, then strolled back into the sitting area, and handed Río a glass. ‘To family reunions,’ he said.

‘Well, I can’t not drink to that.’ Río smiled up at him, and chinked his glass.

‘Bring on the next question,’ said Shane, settling back on the sofa.

‘Next question is…“What do you consider your greatest achievement?’”

‘That’s easy. My son, Finn, the dive god.’

Río smiled. ‘What a coincidence! That happens to be my greatest achievement, too.’ She typed in the answer, then said, ‘You’re going to have to think a bit harder about this one. “Which talent would you most like to have?” And you’re not allowed to say “Acting”.’

‘I don’t have to think about that at all. The answer is, I’d like to be able to lie.’

Río gave him an interested look. ‘Would you really, Shane?’

‘Yes, I would. Hollywood is full of liars, all out to shaft you. I’d love to be able to shaft some of them back. Which talent would
you
most like to have?’

Río considered. ‘I suppose being able to lie
would
be pretty useful. Dervla’s magnificent at it. You have to be able to lie really well to be a successful auctioneer. Think of all those works of fiction that are estate agents’ blurbs. ‘I’m surprised one of them hasn’t won the Booker prize.’

‘Maybe Dervla will, one day. I heard her say something to Finn last night about some book she was working on.’

‘She’s writing a book? Sly-Boots, Dervla! Any idea what it’s about?’

‘Nope.’

‘Knowing her, it’s probably a memoir called
My Brilliant Career.
Or else she was just telling yet another one of her lies.’ Río returned her attention to Shane’s computer. ‘Next question. “What is your most treasured possession?’”

‘A photograph,’ Shane replied, without hesitation. ‘It’s my screen saver.’

‘Río typed in A photograph’, not bothering to ask what the photograph was of. Knowing Shane, his screen saver probably featured some nubile centrefold. She ploughed on. ‘“Who are your heroes in real life?’”

‘My son and his mother.’

‘Clever. “What or who is the greatest love of your life?’”

‘Ditto.’

‘Even cleverer! “What is your greatest regret?’”

‘That I didn’t marry the mother of my son.’

‘Ha! Nice one! You’re great at answering questionnaires, Shane. Even I couldn’t make up that shite.’

Shane reached out a hand and brushed something away from the side of Río’s neck.

‘What was that?’ she asked.

‘A fruit fly.’

‘At this time of the year?’

‘They’re not seasonal any more.’

‘It’s funny about seasonal stuff, isn’t it? I used to love peaches, but now I can buy them any time I want, I can’t be arsed with them.’

‘I guess that’s a metaphor for life. As soon as people get the stuff they once only ever dreamed about, they don’t want it any more.’

‘Ow. That observation’s a bit too profound for a tipsy gal with a hangover. Next question. “What is your current state of mind?’”

‘Let me think about that.’ Shane took a slug of champagne. ‘Horny.’

‘Horny? Hm. Maybe it’s not such a good idea to put that in. The readers might think you’re looking at porn.’

‘But I told you earlier, I’m crap at lying.’

Something about the way Shane was looking at her made Río feel unsettled suddenly. ‘What are you saying, Shane?’

His eyes didn’t leave hers. ‘I guess I’m telling you in a very roundabout way that I want to go to bed with you, Río.’

‘You do?’ said Río. ‘Um. Why?’

‘Because I adore you.’

‘Oh God! For a minute there, I thought you were serious.’ But there was no corresponding smile. ‘Um. Are you serious?’ she asked.

I am.

Río stood up from the sofa, grabbed her glass and moved to
the window. ‘Don’t be
stupid
, Shane! How could you possibly adore me?’

‘I’ve always adored you.’

‘But we were disastrous together from the word go. We were way too young to be in a relationship.’

‘You weren’t too young to be a mother.’

‘That’s beside the point.’

‘Is it? I’ve always thought of Finn as a genuine love child.’

‘He was. I mean, he
is.
But things could never have worked out between you and me.’

‘They could now.’

Río turned to him. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I have money now, Río. I know I offered to marry you before Finn was born, but you were right to say no, because in those days I was a waster with no future. And I always hoped that one day you might meet somebody who would be able to provide for you better than I ever could. But that didn’t happen, and I’m glad it didn’t, because I couldn’t bear to think of you married to someone else. You’re the only woman I’ve ever really loved, Río Kinsella. And now I
can
provide for you. That’s why I came back here.’

‘You’re not…you’re not asking me to
marry
you, Shane?’

‘Yes. I am.’

‘Oh! Oh God–that is so sweet of you! That is really,
really
so sweet of you! But I can’t do that. I can’t marry you.’ Río took a great gulp of champagne.

‘Why not? Is it because of that baldy git?’

‘No.’ Río couldn’t help it. She started to laugh.

‘Because it wouldn’t surprise me if it was because of him,’ continued Shane. ‘I saw the way he annexed you last night, Río, all smarmy smiles. He clearly fancies the arse off you.’

‘Shane. It’s not because of Adair.’ She moved back to the sofa, and sat down next to him. ‘It’s because I’m finally in a place where I’m as content as I imagine I will ever be. I don’t need to be married.’

‘But if you married me—’

‘Listen to me. I have somewhere to live, I have no money worries–well, no
serious
money worries–I have reared my son–
our
son–and I think I’ve made a pretty good fist of it.’ Río drained her glass, then held it out to him. ‘Oh God. Give me more drink. This is starting to sound like the kind of dialogue you have to spout in
Faraway.
’

‘“You’re right, Akasha. We definitely need more drink.’” Shane moved across to the kitchen counter, saying, as he went, ‘“Seth moves to the bar, grabs the bottle by its neck. He sloshes champagne into both their glasses, hands one to Akasha, then slumps back onto the sofa.’”

‘That was very good!’ said Río admiringly. ‘Is that what you call method acting?’

‘No. It’s the Spencer Tracy school of acting. It’s called knowing your lines and not bumping into the furniture.’ Shane sighed. ‘Christ, I’m an eejit, Río.’

‘Sure, I’ve known that for years.’

‘No, I mean I’m eejit the way I handled this. I played my cards all wrong.’

‘It doesn’t matter how you played your cards, Shane. You know there’s no way things could ever work out between us. We’re two completely different people from the ones who made Finn. I’m a bogger from Coolnamara and you’re a Hollywood hottie.’

‘I used to be a bogger from Coolnamara too.’

‘But you’ve had twenty years to learn how to pretend to be someone else. Could you imagine me turning up with you at some red-carpet do, trying to make small talk with studio executives and starlets? What a joke!’ Río took another gulp of champagne, then leaned back against the cushions and turned to face him. ‘How
were
you going to play your cards, incidentally?’

Shane tapped his nose. ‘You’ll never know now, will you?’

‘You could tell me.’

‘It’s hardly worth telling you if you don’t want to come out and play’

‘Oh, go on!’

‘Let’s just say that it involved a candlelit dinner in a deluxe suite overlooking the lake in Coolnamara Castle Hotel with champagne and presents.’

‘Presents?’

‘Specially couriered over from Paris. It’s a shame. I’ll have to give them to somebody else now.’

‘Why can’t you give them to me?’

‘You don’t want to play. You won’t even allow me to buy you dinner.’ Shane sighed and reached for his phone. ‘I’d better cancel the booking.’

‘No!’

‘Why not? Have you somebody else in mind who might want to have dinner with champagne and presents in a deluxe hotel suite?’

‘Well…me.’

‘You wouldn’t be able to drive. You told me you were still drunk from last night, and you’ve had a glass of champagne.’

‘You could drive us.’

‘But you don’t want to come with me.’

‘Oh! Shane Byrne, you are a bastard. Can’t I at least
see
the presents?’