enough, that was the truth. Jessie kept pushing forward, working herself harder and harder and dragging everyone else with her. She was currently fixated on finding premises in Limerick.
‘Come down this Saturday, though,’ Izzy coaxed. ‘We all miss you. I’ll ring Jessie and tell her to give you the weekend off.’
‘Right, so, do that!’
A huge load had lifted from him. Suddenly he was springing around, full of energy.
As it happened, a couple of days later he drove Jessie to Limerick to view potential premises.
The site looked promising, good enough to get the architect involved. Jessie was too tired for another round trip the next day: her nanny could spend the night with Ferdia and Saoirse, and Johnny was okay to stay the night because he had nothing on that evening. Because he never did.
They booked into a small hotel, then went for a sandwich. Johnny saw Jessie to her room, then checked there were no intruders hiding under her bed. He was almost out of the door when she said, ‘You only wanted me because your buddy did.’
He could have left it at that – a short laugh, an admission that that was the kind of dickhead he was.
Instead he said, ‘I do want you.’
Because, yeah, he did.
Hadn’t he recently learnt that actions have consequences, that he couldn’t live his life having sex with anyone and everyone?
But this was Jessie.
Flushed and delighted, she was suddenly unbuttoning his shirt, and although he tried to pretend it wasn’t happening, he wasn’t stopping her either. And sometimes he had to wonder just what kind of man he was.
ELEVEN DAYS AGO
* * *
MONDAY, 28 SEPTEMBER
NINETY-TWO
From his breathing, Nell could tell that Liam was already awake.
Neither of them had a job, so neither had any reason to get up. It was a depressing realization. ‘It’s everyone’s dream to skip work on a Monday morning,’ she said, ‘but when you’ve no choice …’
Liam rolled over. ‘I know what will make us both feel better.’
No. She slithered across the sheets and clambered from the bed.
‘What?’ He looked baffled. ‘You don’t want to?’
What should she say? ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Is it your period?’
‘No … I’m just … sorry.’
‘You just don’t want to?’ He seemed shocked. ‘Don’t you fancy me any more?’
‘I just don’t want to right now.’
‘I don’t get it.’
She shrugged nervously. She needed a reason to be out of the flat. The two of them trapped there together day after day felt dangerous.
In the living room, she rang her dad.
‘Nellie, what’s up?’
‘Have you a job on right now? Can I help out? I don’t need to be paid much.’
‘Who are you and what have you done with my daughter?’
‘Dad. Yes or no?’
‘… Yeh. Big house in Malahide. Look, are you all right?’
‘I just need to be doing something. That’s all.’
‘Don’t tell me, so. Your mother will get it out of you and she’ll tell me. You could cut out the middle man and … No? Rightio. You want to start tomorrow?’
‘Thanks. Text me the address.’
‘I could just tell it to you. Seeing as we’re talking to each other. Why do we have to click every fecking thing? Can’t I just –’
‘Grand. Fine. Tell me.’
She heard Liam slam out of the apartment. With enormous relief, she climbed onto the couch with Molly Ringwald, got her iPad and googled, ‘I got divorced and I wasn’t even married a year.’
It was amazing how often this happened. There were couples who had discovered on literal honeymoon that it was all over. For some, the wedding preparations had been so elaborate and time-draining that the happy pair hadn’t exchanged a civil word in months. When they’d found themselves marooned together on a tiny strip of sand in the Indian Ocean, they’d discovered that actually they couldn’t stand each other.
Then there were the women who had ‘panic-married’: afraid they’d never find the perfect man, they’d decided they could put up with some substandard specimen. Only to realize that, actually, they couldn’t …
Nell devoured each story, taking particular comfort from the ones most similar to her: basically that they’d got married too quickly, before they knew each other properly. ‘It’s too easy to tune out the details at the start.’ That really resonated.
There was no point in blaming Liam. This was on her. She’d willed him to be Mr Fabulous and she’d refused to listen to those who begged her to be cautious.
Why had they got married? What was the big fat hurry? Liam had wanted it, but so had she.
She’d thought it was exciting –