Lying in Wait(68)

Dessie had doorstepped me shortly after Rome, but when I’d ignored him, he shouted down the street after me, ‘I sorted your man in the dole office, he won’t go near you now.’

I wheeled around. ‘You did what?’

‘Gave him the hiding he deserved.’

I remembered the bruise under Laurence’s eye and his explanation of the ledgers falling on top of him at work. ‘You stupid bastard,’ I said. ‘He’s only a friend.’

‘Yeah, well, he won’t be anything more than that after I’ve finished with him.’ And Dessie sauntered away, hands in his pockets and head up, as if he’d just had a good day at the dog track.

In my head, I was reliving my day in Rome with Laurence. It had been such a brilliant time and a real shame that it had to be cut short. When I got back, he explained about his granny dying, but I found myself thinking about him all the time. I felt terrible about Bridget. Laurence could have kissed me any time that day, he could have taken my hand, made some gesture of affection, but he didn’t. I thought I had been misreading the signals, but I felt like he and I were involved in some way. And yet any time I had tried to reach a higher level of friendship with him, he had gently turned me away – like when I’d asked for his home phone number, he had mumbled that I could always get him in the office. It struck me now that Dessie had scared him off. Or maybe Laurence just didn’t like me in that way. Maybe the modelling business had given me too much confidence.

I rang Laurence at work and asked him straight out if Dessie had assaulted him. He sheepishly confirmed it.

‘But why didn’t you tell me?’

‘It would have ruined our trip.’

‘I’m so sorry, Laurence.’

‘Don’t be. It’s not your fault, but do me a favour and don’t go back to him.’

‘I … I won’t.’

‘Good.’

Mixed messages again. Laurence didn’t want me to get back with my husband.

I was still looking for Annie, but I was looking for a flat too. Yvonne told me my shoot in Rome had been a huge success, and I had more money than I’d ever had and more offers of work in Milan and Paris. Yvonne was worried that I’d move to London and change agent, and maybe I would have if I hadn’t still been looking for Annie. Also, I felt a loyalty to Yvonne. I would still have been in the dry-cleaner’s and living with Dessie if she hadn’t taken me under her wing. I hadn’t told her that Annie was still alive. I didn’t want her to know that her son had been wrong.

The weekend after I got back from Rome, Bridget rang to tell me that she’d got an office transfer to Mullingar in the meantime and that I should come see her there and stay in her new flat to continue my search for Annie. I agreed to go, and on the first Friday night of my visit, I admired her new home. It was a shared house on a new housing estate just outside the town. She shared with two other girls, who were watching Blind Date on TV. We took a bottle of wine up to her room, where she had a pull-out mattress for me on the floor. I drank too much and told her that Laurence had come to Rome with me. I immediately regretted it.

‘He … what?’

‘I was going anyway, and he said he needed a holiday, so he just booked the same flight as me. It made sense. I should have told you before, but I didn’t want you jumping to conclusions. I mean, we met for a drink one night after you split up …’ With every word, I was making it worse, over-explaining everything. ‘But there’s nothing going on, I promise. You believe me, don’t you?’

I didn’t know until then that it was possible to tell the truth and still feel like a liar. She was distant with me for the rest of the weekend. She said she had a cold the next day, so I went around the town on my own, showing Annie’s photo, asking if anyone had seen her. I got more or less the same response as I’d had in Athlone. Annie looked like someone they used to know. What was wrong with her mouth? Why was I looking for her? Had I reported it to the guards? This time I didn’t go into any explanations.

I went back to Bridget’s house wet, cold and disheartened. She spoke little to me that evening. Eventually, I broached the subject of Laurence again.

‘I should have known,’ she said. ‘I can’t believe I’ve been so stupid. He was always so much nicer when you were around. And he spent so much time and effort trying to find your sister’s murderer. I always thought it was ridiculous. Like you were playing at being detectives.’

‘It isn’t a game!’

‘The two of you have made a fool out of me. You can lie to yourself that he’s not interested in you, but look at us.’ She pointed to the mirror behind us. ‘Who would you choose if you were him?’

‘Please, Bridget, he’s never made a move on me, I swear –’

‘Give him time, he’s just waiting. God knows, he wouldn’t want to do anything inappropriate. You’re a married woman.’ There was a bitterness to her tone.

The next morning I returned to Dublin utterly miserable. I told Ma and Da that I was going to be moving into my own place. Ma cried and said I should be moving back in with my husband, but Da understood. I warned Ma not to give Dessie any more information about me or my friends. My new apartment was on Appian Way.

‘But sure, we don’t know anyone who lives around there,’ said Ma. She was uncomfortable with the idea of me living where I didn’t belong.