Last Chance Saloon - Marian Keyes [129]
‘Are his mother and brothers going to be here for the entire nine months?’
‘No, they’re going home on Sunday. Or at least JaneAnn and Timothy are.’
Ravi grasped Tara’s shoulders in excitement. ‘You mean…? You mean the Milo chap is staying?’
‘Not just staying,’ Tara nodded meaningfully, ‘but staying with whom?’
Ravi could barely speak. ‘Not Liv?’ he squeaked. ‘That’s superb.’
‘Just for a few extra weeks,’ Tara elaborated.
‘And what about Lars? Has she kicked him into touch yet?’
‘Oh, yes. Last night.’
‘Oooh, I wish I could have heard.’
‘You could have, actually. She put him on the speakerphone for me while she delivered the news.’
Ravi was almost speechless with disappointment. ‘Why didn’t you tell me? I would have liked to be there.’
‘Sorry, sorry, sorry! But I’ve had a lot on my mind. You may have noticed. Anyway, it wasn’t as much fun as it sounds because they both spoke in Swedish.’
‘Boo.’
‘I’m sorry, Ravi, I truly am.’
‘Did he cry?’
Tara hesitated, then nodded.
‘Aw, boo. Did he offer to leave his wife and did she tell him it was too late?’
Tara shrank from Ravi’s accusing eyes. ‘I don’t speak Swedish but I believe so,’ she admitted.
‘Did he say he’d do anything and did she say there was nothing he could do?’
Tara hung her head in shame.
‘And it’s not even as if I can watch the omnibus edition on Sunday,’ Ravi said bitterly.
They sat in silence.
‘Have you had a falling-out with Katherine?’ Ravi asked suddenly.
‘Why do you ask?’
‘Because your average number of phone calls a day has gone down by seventeen point four per cent since last Friday. Teddy did a program to calculate it. What’s going on?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Tell me. I won’t understand.’
The relief of being with someone uncomplicated like Ravi! The need to talk was suddenly imperative. Tara opened her mouth and it all gushed out like water from a burst dam. In hushed, but entertaining, you’ll-never-believe-what-happened-next mode she told him about Fintan’s outrageous promise that if she didn’t leave Thomas or ask him to marry her, he’d die to spite her. About the terrible row with Katherine – though she made no mention of Katherine using the F-word. About the O’Gradys looking at her like she’d gone for Fintan with a meat cleaver. About her own robust superstition. ‘I believe him,’ she admitted, ‘when he says he’ll die and haunt me if I don’t do what he wants.’ She finished by saying, gaily, ‘Isn’t Fintan mental?’
Ravi didn’t speak. Thought after thought passed over the landscape of his face, like scudding clouds creating light and dark on mountains.
‘All you have to do is nod, Ravi,’ Tara said anxiously.
Ravi’s smooth, boyish face was a twist of perplexity. ‘But Fintan’s your chum,’ he struggled. ‘He’s not likely to stitch you up. You’ve known him since you were fourteen, right?’
Tara nodded reluctantly.
‘And you’re now, what, twenty-eight?’
‘Thirty-one, you big thick.’
‘Golly, are you? That old?’
‘Yes, that old.’
‘OK. So when you’re friends with someone that long they’re in your corner.’ Ravi delivered a winning smile. He’d sorted things out for Tara. Funny that she still looked miserable.
‘Ravi, I don’t think you’re listening to me,’ she begged. ‘He wants me to leave Thomas. He’s sick, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.’
‘I’m not so sure,’ Ravi said thoughtfully. ‘Once saw a documentary about a man caught in a storm, stuck on a boat for seven weeks, got frostbite on his ears, had to eat pieces of his boat, nearly bloody died! Rescued by a trawler, saw the light, changed his life. Nice to everyone, sold his business, lived life to the full. Said everyone should. Sounds like you’ve got the same problem with Fintan. Another bloke on a hijacked plane –’
‘No, Ravi, no!’ Tara was bitterly disappointed. ‘I rely on you to be a boy. Emotionally illiterate. I don’t want you having bursts of enlightenment. You were my one dark spot in an irritatingly bright, carey-sharey world.’
‘Sorr-ee!’
‘You were supposed to tell me that Fintan