Sushi for Beginners - Marian Keyes [29]
‘And as if I wasn’t at the end of my rope, fucking Dylan rings to say that not only is he going to be home late again, but that next week he’s got to go to yet another overnight conference.’
‘Fucking Dylan,’ Ashling heard Molly sing-song, with perfect diction. ‘Fucking Dylan, fucking Dylan.’
‘… Plus he’s away this Friday at some dinner in Belfast!’
More crying started up in the background. Male crying. Fucking Dylan – home early and upset at being sworn at by his wife and daughter? – Ashling wondered wryly. No, from the whingy, whiny complaints about a tummy-ache, it had to be Craig.
‘I’ll come over on Friday night,’ Ashling offered.
‘Great, that’s – LEAVE IT! WOULD YOU BLOODY LEAVE IT! Ashling, I have to go,’ Clodagh said, and the line went dead. That was how phone conversations with Clodagh usually ended. Deflated, Ashling sat looking at the phone. She needed to speak to someone. Luckily, Ted was due any minute, she could usually set her watch by his arrival. Six fifty-three.
But at ten past seven, when she was halfway through a bag of Kettle chips and Ted hadn’t appeared, Ashling began to worry. She hoped he hadn’t had an accident. He was a demon on his bike and wouldn’t wear a helmet. At half past she rang him. To her surprise he was home!
‘Why didn’t you call in?’
‘Do you want me to?’
‘Well…yes, I suppose. It was my first day at my new job today.’
‘Oh shite, I forgot. I’ll be right down.’
Seconds later, Ted appeared – and he looked different. Unquantifiably, but undeniably. Ashling hadn’t seen him since Saturday night – remarkable in itself, but she’d been too antsy about the new job to notice until now. Somehow he looked less delicate, more twinklingly robust. Usually he invaded the space of others like an unstoppable force, but there was a straight-backed jauntiness about his posture that was new.
‘Congratulations on Saturday night,’ Ashling said.
‘I think I have a new girlfriend,’ he admitted, with a bashful ear-to-ear grin. ‘At least one, in fact.’ At Ashling’s agog face he elaborated, ‘I spent yesterday with Emma, but I’m meeting Kelly tomorrow night.’
Just then Joy arrived. ‘A watched pot never boils. Half-man-half-badger will never ring if I wait by the phone. Right then! Bill Gates, Rupert Murdoch or Donald Trump – I thought I’d pick captains of industry in honour of your new job.’
‘But that’s easy.’ Ashling couldn’t believe how lightly she’d been let off. ‘Donald Trump, of course.’
‘Oh, really?’ Joy was moody. ‘I thought he was a bit bouffant and blow-dried. I find it hard to respect a man who spends more time on his hair than I do. Well, each to their own.’
Then she reached in her bag and waved around a bottle of Asti Spumante. ‘For you. Congrats on the new job.’
‘Asti Spew-mante,’ Ashling exclaimed. ‘Thank you.’
‘Spew-mante?’ Ted admired.
‘Spew-mante,’ Joy confirmed. ‘Nothing but the best.’
When they’d got all the sniggery mileage they could out of saying ‘Spew-mante’, Joy gasped, wide-eyed with anticipated good news, ‘So? How was your first day as a glamorous magazine person?’
‘I have a nice desk, a nice Apple Mac –’
‘A nice boss?’ Joy asked, meaningfully.
Ashling tried to formulate her thoughts. She was fascinated by Lisa’s glowing, well-turned-out attractiveness and curious about the unhappiness that throbbed from her. She’d recognized her as the woman in the supermarket with the seven of everything, and she was interested in that too. But it had been a mistake to follow her to the ladies’. She’d been desperate to help, but she’d ended up being just pushy and insensitive.
‘She’s very beautiful.’ Ashling didn’t want to elaborate on her regret. ‘And thin and clever and has fantastic clothes.’
Ted, the freshly minted womanizer, perked up, but Joy said scornfully, ‘Not that boss. The good-looking man whose girlfriend bit his finger.’
Ashling felt no better thinking about Jack Devine. She