‘Oh … ah. Nothing.’ How could she land all this on him now? ‘Not important.’
Johnny whipped his belt from around his waist and threw it into the plastic tray, along with his wallet, his briefcase, his laptop and his iPad.
‘Any liquids?’ the woman asked. ‘Anything in your pockets?’
Johnny jingled around, burrowing for change. There was something about the woman, the twinkly way she watched him, that reminded him of Izzy. He threw a clatter of coins into the tray and moved on, but suddenly his mind was cast back to the past, more than thirteen years ago.
Izzy had called him at work. ‘I need a plus one,’ she’d said. ‘For a gala night, a work thing.’
It was about ten months since she’d broken up with Tristão and it seemed to be permanent. ‘Will you come with me?’
He barely had to think about it. ‘Sure.’
The function took place in a shiny marble-and-gold hotel in the middle of nowhere. The long evening eventually finished, and without consultation, they went to Izzy’s room and had sex. Johnny was thirty-five now, older than he’d been during those carefree encounters of their early twenties – and a lot sadder. But when he was caught up in the sensation of Izzy’s skin, her mouth, her hands on him, he felt normal – a man, a human animal, doing what he’d been programmed to do.
In the morning, with Izzy sprawled unconscious across the sheets, her long legs entangled with his, he wondered if she belonged in his bed. Did he belong in hers? Izzy was very special but she was vulnerable. He was vulnerable.
When her eyes finally opened, she said, ‘I shouldn’t have bothered booking you a room.’
‘We didn’t know this was going to happen.’
‘C’mon, Johnny.’
He was shocked at his own naïvety. ‘Izzy, you’re one of the most important people in my life. I care about you too much for us to be …’
‘Fuck buddies? Grand. No worries.’
‘So we’re okay?’
‘Course we’re okay, ya big thick. We’re Izzy and Johnny, we’ll always be okay!’
A few Saturdays later in Errislannan, on a blustery October afternoon, they pulled on their wellies and went out for some air. As they cut through the fields, the light was already fading. Winter was on its way.
The faint humming noise from the electric fence prompted Izzy to say, ‘Remember when we used to push each other into it?’
‘Yeah.’ It raised a faint smile.
‘That was what counted for fun back then. We were mental.’
‘Well, you were.’
‘Ha-ha. Here, isn’t the sky beautiful?’ She looked up at the streaks of lilac and mauve. Then, ‘Johnny? I’ve something to say. Is there …’ She stopped and started again. ‘Johnny, I think there could be something between the two of us. Something serious.’
His heart dropped like a stone. No way had he seen this coming. I can’t hurt her. ‘Izzy … I think the world of you.’
‘Course you do.’ Said with an echo of her old swagger. ‘And that night in the hotel … right?’
He felt he was slipping and sliding, trying desperately to grab on to the truth before it was swept from him. He’d thought they’d had an admirably adult, emotions-free fuck, but for Izzy, he was fast realizing, it had been a meaningful romantic encounter.
‘You said you didn’t want us to be fuck buddies,’ she said.
‘I did. But …’ He’d meant they shouldn’t be sleeping together at all.
‘Is there someone else?’ She had stopped walking and was staring at him.
‘Izzy, listen to me, I’m in no state to have a girlfriend.’
‘It’s been nearly two years, Johnny. We’ve got to try.’ She managed her familiar, optimistic smile. ‘Promise me you’ll think about it.’
But the right words just wouldn’t come.
‘Hey, Johnny Casey,’ Izzy had demanded down the phone. ‘Are you avoiding me?’
Yes. ‘Nah. Work. Mad busy.’
Since her proposition that day, being with Izzy had made Johnny feel shitty and weird. He’d realized that you couldn’t go round sleeping with just anyone. Actions have consequences. He’d started skipping his Saturday nights in Errislannan. One here, two in a row there. He’d just missed three on the trot, his longest yet.
‘Look,’ she said, ‘I’ve obviously thrown a scare into you. The “you and me” thing was only an idea. A bad one. I didn’t mean it.’
‘Ah, sure, I know that.’ Jesus Christ, the relief.
‘Off my rocker there, for a while. None of us are exactly in tip-top condition now, are we? I’m sorry for putting the wind up you.’