Undertaking Love Page 0,49

be wedding-free and calm, the only day that she ever took off for herself.

She plopped down into her armchair and resigned herself to a good hour of listening to her mother’s latest forays with men and mayhem stateside. Much as she loved her mother, hearing about her exploits as a sex therapist aging disgracefully in Florida always gave Marla the makings of a headache. At least it wasn’t hard work. Her mother never gave her chance to get a word in edgeways. She reached for her coffee mug and curled her feet up underneath her bum, glad to be on the opposite side of the pond to her mother for the majority of the time. She cursed silently as she wriggled and slopped coffee on her knee, before tuning back in to try to make sense of the tail end of her mother’s monologue.

‘It’ll only be a flying visit for Brynn though, hon, he has to give a speech at a taxidermy conference. He’s flying out again after the weekend, but I thought I’d stay on and spend some time with my little girl. Whaddya reckon?’

Marla’s mind played hectic catch up. Brynn? Who the hell was Brynn? And a taxidermy conference? Jeez, her mother had been with some odd men in her time but this one ranked up there alongside Herman the snake-wrangler.

She was so thrown by Brynn’s profession that it took her a couple of seconds to compute the fact that her mother had mentioned a visit.

Her mother’s uncharacteristic silence lengthened, and Marla cast around for a response that wouldn’t convey her horror.

‘When would this be, again?’ she squeaked.

Please don’t say tomorrow or something ridiculous, Mom, or I may well lie down on the floor and die right now.

She heard her mother’s dramatic sigh on the other end of the line.

‘Marla, are you even listening to me? End of the month. Clear your diary. We can hit Harrods.’

‘Mom, you know I’m miles from London.’

‘Yada yada yada. You can’t be far from anywhere on that tiny godforsaken island. I lived there so I know, remember?’

Marla was glad her mother wasn’t in the room to catch the way her eyes flicked up to the heavens. At least it was a few weeks away. Given her mother’s track record, there was every possibility that Brynn the taxidermist would have exited the scene well before then with an otter under his arm, or whatever the hell he happened to be stuffing at the time.

‘You know what you need, my friend?’

Gabe watched Dan over the rim of his pint glass as he waited for the pearl of wisdom. It was his third beer, and it had him well on the way to being more relaxed than he’d felt in weeks.

‘What’s that then?’

‘To lighten up. You’ve had that same long face on for weeks now.’

‘Undertakers need long faces. It’s part of our job description.’

‘I know that’s a lie, Gabriel, because your dad had the biggest smile in Ireland.’

Gabe couldn’t argue with that one. He took a swig of beer to help loosen the sudden tightening in his throat.

‘Let’s go into town, man.’ Dan shoved his chair back with a pointed glance around the quiet pub. ‘It’s crawling with bars full of birds. You need to touch some flesh that isn’t stone cold.’

Gabe sighed loudly, but drained his glass anyway. This thing with Marla was doing his head in. Maybe some distance from the village and its headaches would be welcome. He craved the boozy forgotten nights, to be twenty-two again and not give a damn about tomorrow, or work, or about the red-headed girl who was driving him slowly crazy with need. Marla was thoroughly infuriating, not to mention someone else’s girlfriend.

Which left him with, to coin one of Dan’s choice phrases, ‘two fifths of fuck all’ and the guarantee of a headache in the morning. He grabbed his jacket and ducked outside towards the taxi Dan had flagged down.

Gabe looked around the busy town square. It was thronged with brightly lit bars and glossy-haired girls.

‘Where we headed?’

Dan managed to drag his eyes away from an impressive lycra-encased cleavage of a passing girl to glance down at the flyer she had thrust into his hand. He stuffed it into his pocket and clapped Gabe on the back with a grin.

‘I’ve just had a fuckin’ stormin’ idea, mate.’

Gabe grimaced. He knew that tone of old, and it usually meant Dan was a few hours away from his next walk of shame. He had no time to