Angel Kiss - Laura Jane Cassidy [3]
The next morning there was a gorgeous blue sky and I felt a lot better. But we’d run out of milk so I couldn’t have cereal. Instead of being annoyed I decided it was fate; I’d wander into the village to get some milk and explore a bit more.
As I walked into the local shop I heard a loud smack on the window. A fly swatter hit the windowpane with brutal force. I watched as the doomed wasp fell on to the dusty sill, its legs flickering for a moment before it died. The shop owner, Mary Reynolds, stood triumphantly, clasping the blue swatter.
‘The little feckers come out earlier every year,’ she said as she scooped the tiny corpse into a tissue and dumped it in the bin behind the counter. ‘How are you, Jacki? Are you keeping well?’
‘Yes, I’m fine, thanks,’ I said, trying to be cheerful and heading for the fridge.
Mary knew all of Avarna’s residents by name and there was little that happened in the village that she didn’t find out about. The first time I’d gone into her shop was only for chewing gum, yet she’d kept me chatting for twenty minutes. She found out my name, my age, that my mum, Rachel, was the new primary school teacher starting in September, that I’d just done my Junior Cert. exams and that I didn’t have a boyfriend. In return I was subjected to her son Nick’s entire life story. He was a year older than me, had just finished transition year, was allergic to tomatoes and played electric guitar.
Today I was spared from interrogation as she was soon chatting to another customer. She introduced me to Joe Clancy, owner of the aptly named Clancy’s, one of Avarna’s four pubs.
‘And did you hear Tommy Ford’s wife had a baby girl?’ said Joe. ‘I’m not sure what they called her …’
‘Chloe Louise, eight pounds twelve ounces, big head of brown hair,’ said Mary as she stared at the open window, daring another wasp to fly through it. The shop was uncomfortably warm, as was everywhere in the village during that unusually hot summer.
‘Here’s hoping she gets her looks from her mother,’ said Joe. ‘That fella Tommy has a face like a melted welly.’
‘You’re terrible,’ said Mary with a laugh.
I smiled to myself. You couldn’t help liking Mary, in spite of her knack for getting information out of everyone who came into the shop.
‘Anyway, I better be off,’ said Joe. He sauntered out with an ice-cream cone in his hand and a folded newspaper tucked under his elbow.
I checked the selection of biscuits, searching for my favourites.
‘Nick!’ shouted Mary. There was silence. ‘Nick!’ she bellowed again. A few moments later her son emerged from the storeroom in the back with a copy of Kerrang! magazine in his hand and a disgruntled look on his face. Although I’d heard a lot about him from Mary, this was the first time I’d seen him. He was tall and slim and wore faded blue denims and a black T-shirt. His brown hair was quite long and curled across his forehead. As he came towards us I could see his striking blue eyes and that he had a few freckles on his cheeks. His arms were strong and tanned.
One syllable echoed silently inside my head: Wow. Nick was gorgeous, even with that grumpy look on his face.
‘Nick, I have to go to the wholesaler’s, so stay behind the counter, will you?’ said Mary. She mustn’t have realized we hadn’t been introduced.
Nick nodded grudgingly and slumped down on the stool behind the till.
‘Bye, Jacki,’ said Mary, and then she hurried out the door, taking with her any affection I felt for my ex-boyfriend in Dublin. I took out my purse and approached the counter with my milk and biscuits.
‘Hi,’ he said.
‘Hi.’
I tried to think of something intelligent to say, but failed miserably.
‘That’s two ninety-five,’ said Nick.
‘Thanks,’ I murmured as I handed him three euro with a slightly shaking hand.
‘So, you’re Jacki?’ he asked as his eyes met mine, and he dropped the change into my palm. My insides jolted when I heard him say my name.
‘Eh … yeah. You must be Nick.’ There were a few moments of silence.