Sushi for Beginners - Marian Keyes [154]
‘Cancel.’
‘I couldn’t,’ she protested. ‘I’ve put them off for so long that I just can’t cancel again.’
They’d been so excited when she’d confirmed that she was finally coming that the thought of telling them otherwise made her break out in a sweat.
‘Go next weekend.’
‘I can’t, I’ve to work. Another photo shoot.’
‘It really matters to me that you’re there,’ Marcus said evenly. ‘It’s a big show and I’m trying out some new stuff, I need you there.’
Ashling twisted, trapped by conflicting emotions. ‘I’m sorry. But I’ve psyched myself up to going to see them, and it’s been ages… I’ve bought my train ticket,’ she threw in.
As his expression became hurt and closed, her intestines snarled themselves into a tight knot. She hated herself for letting him down, but it was either disappoint him or her parents. She liked to oblige, and this was the worst situation she could find herself in, where whichever way she manoeuvred, she was going to displease someone.
‘I’m really sorry’ she said, with sincerity. ‘But things with my parents are messy enough. If I didn’t go it would only damage relations even more.’
She waited for him to ask exactly in what way were things messy with her parents. She’d tell him, she decided. But he just looked at her with wounded eyes.
‘I’m sorry,’ she reiterated.
‘’s OK; he said.
But it wasn’t. Though they opened a bottle of wine and settled down to watch the video he’d brought, the mood was plastered flat. The wine behaved as though it was non-alcoholic and Ardal O’Hanlon had never been less funny. Guilt subdued Ashling, so that all her conversation start-ups drove straight into a wall. For the first time since she’d started seeing Marcus, she couldn’t think of anything to say.
After a strained couple of hours brought them to ten o’clock, Marcus stood up and did a pretend stretch. ‘I’ better get going.’
Terror plopped a rock into Ashling’s stomach. He always stayed the night.
A whole new terrifying vista opened up: perhaps this wasn’t just a fight, maybe it was The End. As she watched Marcus make his horrifyingly speedy progress to the door, she found herself frantically reconsidering her options. Maybe she could change her visit to Cork. What difference did a couple more weeks make? Her relationship with Marcus was way more important…
‘Marcus, let me have a think.’ Her voice wobbled with panic. I might be able to visit them in a few weeks’ time instead.’
‘Ah, it’s all right.’ He managed a ghost of a smile. ‘I’ll cope. I’ll miss you, though.’
Relief only lasted an instant. It mightn’t be all over, but he was still leaving her flat. ‘We could see each other tomorrow night,’ she suggested, anxious for the chance to mend things. ‘I don’t go until Saturday morning.’
‘Ah, no.’ He shrugged, ‘Let’s leave it until you get back.’
‘OK,’ she conceded reluctantly, afraid that if she pushed, it would simply cause a bigger rupture. ‘I’ll be back Sunday evening.’
‘Give me a ring when you get in.’
‘Sure. The train is supposed to get in at eight, that’s if it doesn’t break down, then there’s often a queue for taxis, so I don’t know what time I’ll get home but as soon as I do I’ll call you.’ The desire to oblige made her voluble.
A quick kiss–not long or passionate enough to calm her down–and he was gone.
Like an alcoholic who goes back on the sauce as soon as they hit a rocky patch, the first thing Ashling did was reach for her tarot cards. She’d sorely neglected them lately and if it hadn’t been for Joy’s constant consultation in the wake of Half-man-half-badger’s departure, they’d have been covered in dust. But the noncommittal selection gave her no comfort.
Edgy and agitated, Ashling was immersed in familiar resentment of her family. If only she’d had a normal one this wouldn’t have happened. She thought for a moment about Marcus. She didn’t blame him for being insecure. How he got up on a stage and did what he did was beyond her.
Rancour and regret generated insomnia: she had to talk to someone. But Joy wouldn’t do, and not just because her current sole topic of