Sushi for Beginners - Marian Keyes [39]
‘C’mon, let’s get twisted and bond by trashing everyone we work with!’
‘I can’t.’
‘You can,’ Trix urged earnestly. ‘All you have to do is try.’
‘That’s not what I mean.’ But Trix had a point. While Ashling certainly had bitchy thoughts, she rarely gave vent to them because she had an edgy suspicion that what goes around comes around. No point trying to explain that to Trix, though, she’d laugh her head off. ‘I mean I’m going to see my friend Clodagh.’
‘Get her to come here.’
‘She can’t. She’s got two kids and her husband’s in Belfast.’
Only then would Trix relinquish her.
Ashling jostled through the Friday-night throng and hailed a taxi. Fifteen minutes later she arrived at Clodagh’s, for pizza, wine and a bitching session about Dylan.
‘I hate when he goes away to these bloody dinners and conferences,’ Clodagh exclaimed. ‘And he goes to far too many for my liking.’
This hung in the air until Ashling said anxiously, ‘You don’t think he’s… up to something?’
‘No!’ Clodagh chuckled. ‘I didn’t mean that. I just mean I envy his, his… freedom. I’m stuck here with the pair of them while he’s in some fancy hotel getting an uninterrupted night’s sleep and a bit of privacy. What wouldn’t I give…’ She trailed off wistfully.
Later on in bed, after she’d nervously locked doors and windows, Clodagh found herself thinking about what Ashling had said about Dylan being up to something. He wouldn’t, would he? Have an affair? Or the occasional anonymous, away-from-home shag? Fast, furious and faceless? No, she knew he wouldn’t. Apart from anything else, she’d kill him.
But in a strange little way, the thought of Dylan having sex with someone else turned her on. She thought about it some more, shuffling through a few familiar fantasies. Would they do it like she and Dylan did? Or would it be more inventive? Wilder? Faster? More passionate? As she visualized the porn-movie scenarios, her breathing quickened, and when she was ready she gave herself a couple of quick, intense orgasms. Then fell into a deeply contented sleep until she was woken by Molly needing to do a wee-wee.
12
Ashling spent all Saturday afternoon traipsing around the shops, looking for a smart, sexy suit for work. What she actually wanted, though she was only dimly aware of it, was to look like Lisa. Perhaps then she’d feel deserving of her new job and the anxiety that dogged her might lift. But no matter what she tried on, Lisa’s lacquered élan eluded her. As closing time loomed, she made a couple of desperation purchases and staggered home, exhausted and dissatisfied.
The boy wasn’t actually in her doorway, he was crouched beside it on his orange blanket. It was the first time Ashling had seen him awake. Some passers-by threw him a coin, some more threw him a look that was a mix of disgust and fear, but most people genuinely didn’t see him. They had airbrushed him out of their reality.
She had to pass within inches of him to get to her front-door and was uncomfortably unsure of what the correct etiquette was, but felt she should say something. After all, they were neighbours.
‘Um, hi,’ she grunted, her eyes sliding quickly over his.
‘Hiya,’ he grinned up at her. He was missing a front tooth.
As she hurtled away from him, he nodded at her glossy shopping bag. ‘Did you get anything nice?’
She froze, halfway between him and her door, desperate to escape. ‘Ah, not really. Just a couple of things for work, you know.’
She wanted to cut her tongue out – how would he know?
‘What’s that they say?’ He squinted his eyes in thought. ‘Don’t dress for the job you have, dress for the job you want. Is that right?’
Ashling was too mired in embarrassment to focus. ‘Would you…?’ She shrugged her rucksack off her shoulder, her progress to her purse impeded by the large, glossy bag strewn across her. ‘Would you like…?’
She gave him a pound, which he accepted with a gracious inclination of his head. Flushed with shame at the disparity between what she’d given him and what she’d just spent