‘I don’t know, people love a sensitive new-age man. You might pull.’
It was a joke, but his face fell and his cutlery clattered to the plate. ‘I don’t pull. You should know that about me at least.’ His eyes were full of reproach as he looked at her, and to the phone. ‘Eat up. The parking meter hasn’t got long left.’
She opened her mouth to say sorry, but she could tell just by looking at him that he wasn’t the man who kissed her in shop doorways; now, he was back to being Mr Grump.
‘Bit of a Jeykll and Hyde, aren’t you? Is that with everyone, or just me?’
His jaw flexed, and she could see he was trying not to bite back. The diners all had half an ear on them, enjoying the little sideshow with their lunches.
‘Says you! I never know what sort of mood you’ll be in. One minute you’re all sunshine and rainbows, the next you’re looking for the exit!’
‘It was a joke! I didn’t mean you were some kind of mega slut, did I? It was a joke. What’s the problem?’
‘Lower your voice,’ he said, a little too loudly.
‘Lower yours!’ she shouted back, reaching into her purse and throwing a few notes on the table. ‘I’ll see you later. I’m going back to work.’ She’d had enough of being shushed at lunches. Duncan always chided her for laughing too loudly at jokes, or cracking bad ones of her own. Whenever she’d been tired, or moaned at being dragged along only to be left standing alone, being openly looked over by the other party guests, all she’d gotten was a shushing, a glass of Prosecco pushed into her hand. Pure sugar – cheers, darling. Screw the fertility testing and all the calorie counting. She didn’t want to be shushed any blinking more.
‘April, wait!’ Cillian called after her, but she didn’t give him the chance. She was out of the door and down the street running before she heard him call her again, and she didn’t stop till she was well around the corner and out of his reach. She needed a minute to clear her head. One wrong comment and Cillian had turned again, back to the moody, closed-off wreck she’d first met. The worst thing was, she understood what he was saying. She was moody and contrary, but she couldn’t help feeling that way. She was just so confused, and the biggest confusion was him. Over the last week, she felt like they’d been there together for a month. Everything was amplified. Working and living alongside each other, she’d gotten to know his little ways.
She knew that he thought men who ate sandwiches with the crusts cut off were not real men. She knew that he hummed Orla’s favourite songs while he worked. She knew that he could kiss a woman so well she could forget her own name, let alone worry about the consequences. She knew that he, like her, had been so burned by love they still smelled scorched hair in their darkest moments. He infuriated her, yet she was fast realising that the time she spent with him, at the park, were the best times she’d had for a long time. It came so easy sometimes, till real life got in the way.
Then she was catapulted back to the chunky, nervous little wife she once was, always apologising for everything. Her circumstances, her job, her dress size. The fact that her body didn’t work as others’ did. Hell, at one dinner party she’d been dragged along to, she’d even apologised for having a novelty Hello Kitty bag as part of her outfit. The truth was, she was on a budget and didn’t see the need to empty out her bank account just to buy a piece of fabric. The Hello Kitty logo she hadn’t seen on the back led to a lot of questions. Duncan had been mortified about the whole evening. That night, he’d gone back to the office to work and didn’t come home all night. She should have known then that their marriage was over, but her mum hadn’t been feeling great, so between ferrying her to the hospital appointments and working shifts, she didn’t have the time to sit and watch her home life crumble.
She turned around another corner and stopped. She didn’t know quite where she was, and she was starting to panic. Her anxiety was getting the better of her, and she still felt so mad about Cillian. Where did he get off, trying to be all macho at the lunch table? She’d felt so foolish, people looking, and Cillian didn’t seem to care. Well, she cared, and she wouldn’t be made to feel ashamed in public again. She’d had her fill over the years, and the sting of it seemingly served to strike on old wounds still healing.
‘You’re there,’ Cillian said from behind her. She didn’t look, choosing to stomp off instead in the opposite direction. ‘April, stop!’
She rounded on him then, the anger of past slights and humiliations bubbling up to the surface all at once.
‘You should never do that to someone! What’s your problem?’
Cillian looked like he wanted to bite back, but then the fight went out of him and he sagged before her.
‘I’m sorry, okay? Past stuff. You hit a nerve. I’m still working through some anger. I can’t help it.’
Wow, he’s admitted that he overreacted. I can’t back down, can I? ‘Yeah, well you hit one of my bloody nerves too! This is pointless. We’re both too screwed up to be kissing each other, as gorgeous as that was.’ There she was again, blurting out the daft comments. ‘You have Orla, and I have the park to run, and work, and Martha. We were better off before. We shouldn’t
