Sushi for Beginners - Marian Keyes [11]
‘Ashling!’ He smiled, using one big hand to shove his corn-blond hair back off his face. ‘You’re looking great. Any news on the job front?’
‘I’ve got one!’
‘Lassooing runaway stallions in Mullingar?’
‘In a magazine. A young women’s one.’
‘Fair play! More money?’
Ashling nodded proudly. Not a huge increase, but better than the barely index-linked pittance she’d been getting for the past eight years at Woman’s Place.
‘And no more Letters from Father Bennett – just as well, did you see The Catholic Judger’s gone bust? There was a thing in the paper about it.’
‘So it’s all worked out for the best, really,’ Ashling glowed. ‘Mrs O’Sullivan from Waterford is probably the best thing that ever happened to me!’
Dylan looked amused – then alarmed, as a huge commotion erupted in the garden. Craig had fallen off the swing, and judging from his screeching and bawling was in considerable pain. Ashling was already rummaging in her bag for the rescue remedy.
For herself.
‘Will you go?’ Clodagh turned weary eyes to Dylan. ‘I have them all week. And just tell me his injuries on a need-to-know basis.’
Dylan withdrew.
‘Do you want me to check on Craig… ?’ Ashling asked anxiously. ‘I have plasters.’
‘So do I.’ Clodagh gave her an exasperated look. ‘Tell me about your job. Please.’
‘OK.’ Ashling gave one last regretful look at the garden. ‘It’s a glossy magazine. Much more glamorous than Woman’s Place.’
When she got to the part about Jack Devine arguing furiously, then being bitten by the Asian girl, Clodagh finally perked up.
‘Go on,’ she urged, her eyes sparkling. ‘Tell us! Nothing, but nothing puts me in better humour than overhearing people having a right old ding-dong. One day last week, I was coming out of the gym and there was a man and a woman in a parked car and they were roaring at each other. I mean, roaring! Even with the windows up I could hear them. Put me in great form for the rest of the day.’
‘I hate that,’ Ashling admitted. ‘It’s so upsetting.’
‘But why? Oh, I suppose with your, um, background… But for most people it’s nice. They feel they’re not the only ones having a hard time.’
‘Who’s having a hard time?’ Anxiety bruised Ashling’s face.
Clodagh looked uncomfortable. ‘No one. But I really envy you!’ She suddenly exploded. ‘Single, starting a new job, all that excitement.’
Ashling was speechless. To her, Clodagh’s life was the Holy Grail. The good-looking, devoted husband with the thriving business; the tasteful, Edwardian red-brick house in the chi-chi village of Donnybrook. Nothing to do all day long except microwave Barney pasta, make plans to redecorate already perfect rooms and wait for Dylan to come home.
‘And I bet you were out clubbing last night,’ Clodagh almost accused.
‘Yes, but… Only the Sugarclub and I was home by two. Alone,’ she said with heavy emphasis. ‘Clodagh, you’ve everything. Two gorgeous children, a gorgeous husband…’
Is he gorgeous? Surprised, Clodagh realized that this wasn’t something which had occurred to her lately. Doubtfully she admitted that for a man in his mid-thirties Dylan’s body wasn’t bad – his midriff hadn’t melted into a soft cone-shaped fold of pint-drinking flab like so many of his contemporaries’ had. He still took an interest in clothes – more than she did these days, if she was honest. And he went to a proper hairdresser’s, and not the local oul’ fella barber, who sent everyone out looking like their dad.
Ashling continued to protest. ‘… and you look fantastic! Two children and you’ve a better figure than me – and I’ve had no children, nor am I ever likely to, if my luck with men doesn’t turn soon. Ha ha ha.’
Ashling was keen for Clodagh to smile, but all she said was, ‘Everything feels old. Especially with Dylan.’
Ashling desperately summoned some advice. ‘You just need to recapture the magic. Try and remember what it was like when you first met.’
Where was she getting this stuff from? Oh yeah, she’d written it herself in Woman’s Place, to a woman who was going mad because her husband had retired and was forever