Sushi for Beginners - Marian Keyes [138]
In the meantime she was on the lookout for a half-decent man. Tonight she was having drinks with Nick Searight, an artist famous more for his good looks than for the artistic merit of his canvasses. Lisa suspected he was more of a Milky Way man than a real one, but sex is sex is sex, and right now, it would have to do.
When Lisa reached home, Kathy was just letting herself out. Her hair was so frizzy it looked like it had been deep-fried.
‘Howya Lisa, all done, ironing and everything. Er, and thanks for the nail varnish.’ Kathy’s life didn’t have much call for yellow-glitter nail varnish, but Francine was bound to like it. ‘D’you want me to come next week as usual?’
‘Yes, please.’
It’d be filthy again by next Saturday, Kathy acknowledged as she walked home. Apple cores rotting under the bed, the bathroom splattered with all kind of gloop, the sink higgledy-piggledy with a week’s worth of dishes. Unbelievable really. For such a well-turned-out girl, Lisa kept a very dirty house.
In a house in a bleak, sea-facing corner of Ringsend, over the tin-foil cartons and remains of their Indian takeaway, Mai turned to Jack and finally said the unsayable.
‘You don’t care enough to fight with me any more.’
Jack fixed his still, sombre eyes on her, and waited a long time before delivering the undeniable truth. ‘But people who care about each other shouldn’t be constantly at each other’s throats.’
‘Bollocks,’ Mai said, spiritedly. ‘If you don’t fight, you don’t get to make up. All the door-slamming and shouting keeps the passion alive for us.’
Jack chose his next words very carefully. With unbearable gentleness, he suggested, ‘Or maybe it just disguises that there isn’t much there in the first place.’
Mai’s eyes filled with angry tears. ‘Fuck you, Jack… Fuck you.’ But her heart wasn’t in it.
He wrapped his arms around her and she sobbed a little against his chest, but found she couldn’t really get too worked up.
‘You bastard,’ she accused, breathlessly.
‘Yes,’ he agreed, sadly.
‘Is it over?’ she finally asked.
He drew back to look at her. He nodded slightly. ‘You know it is.’
She sobbed a little more. ‘I suppose,’ she admitted. ‘I’ve never had so many bust-ups with anyone.’ She made this sound like a good thing.
‘We’ve had more come-backs than Frank Sinatra,’ he agreed, even though he’d never enjoyed the rows.
They laughed shakily, their heads close together.
‘You’re a superb woman, Mai,’ he said, with tender, dark-eyed regard.
‘You’re not so bad yourself,’ she sniffed. ‘You’ll make some nice girl very miserable. That Lisa, maybe.’
‘Lisa?’
‘The hard, shiny one? God,’ Mai lapsed into inappropriate giggles, ‘that makes her sound like an M&M. She should be well able for you. Or if not Lisa, the other one.’
‘What other one?’
‘The Latina babe.’
‘Oh, Mercedes. Apart from anything else, she’s married.’
‘Huh.’ Mai hid her upset behind gruffness. ‘You’re so contrary you’ll probably pick her. Drive me home, will you?’
‘Ah, stay a while.’
‘No, I’ve wasted enough time on you.’ She flashed him a watery consolation of a grin.
Without words, they drove through the night-time streets, Mai reducing her loss until it became something manageable. Jack was a special man: big and hard and clever and challenging. Initially she’d loved the game-playing. But she’d fallen badly for him and suspected that Jack would have run a mile if he’d known.
The only way she’d felt in control was by keeping him in a state of perpetual insecurity. She’d never felt at ease except in the short period after he’d apologized for something and was behaving with abject devotion. But that was hard work – and had been getting harder. Since he wouldn’t fight with her any more, her only tool was her exotic mystique. And she was worn out being exotic and mysterious.
Too soon they were at her flat. Jack stopped his car outside, actually switched off the engine, instead of keeping it idling. But Mai wasn’t sticking around.
‘Bye,’ she gulped, swinging her legs out of the