Hello, Heartbreak Page 11

  The policemen insisted we go down to the station, too, despite all our protests about being innocent bystanders. Keelin, Susie and I climbed into the back seat of the ‘vehickle’ – could they not just say ‘squad car’ like they do in the movies? By this stage, most of our neighbours were on their porches or peering out of their windows to have a good nosy at all the commotion. And if the entire neighbourhood’s attention hadn’t already been sufficiently procured, that was promptly taken care of when one of the officers flicked on the siren. Keelin and Susie were white with fear. They kept their heads down as we drove off, the sound of short, sharp bips bouncing off the houses as the bright blue light threw itself around in speedy circles. Well, at least I’d have great street cred the next time I needed to pop in for groceries, I thought, as we raced past Odds and Sods.

  What a day! I glanced out of the car window to check that Jonathan wasn’t in sight. As this day was turning out, I wouldn’t have been at all surprised to spot him driving along in the lane beside us witnessing this whole sorry mess. Or perhaps Edna McClodmutton and Cian having a good gawk as they whizzed past on a tandem while out for a romantic evening cycle.

  I closed my eyes and imagined myself curled up on the couch with Dermot and a trough of junk food watching Sleepless in Seattle. It seemed a million miles away as the car jerked to a halt outside Pearse Street Garda Station.

  14

  Keelin, Susie and I sat slumped on cold metal chairs in a poky little room off the reception area. We’d been there for hours, with no one bothering to tell us what was going on. None of us said a word. Susie kept her head low, unable to look at us. The bearded man with the bald head and the beer belly who’d put us here hadn’t been back since. The floodlit room had a grey concrete floor and walls. I’d never been a fan of grey, had always been more of a pink person. I supposed I was just going to have to get used to it. But I’d never get used to porridge, overalls and woodwork classes. And never mind what they said about Stockholm syndrome, there was no way I could grow to fancy the man with the beard, bald head and beer belly – although we hadn’t been kidnapped, just arrested, so that probably wasn’t an issue.

  I hadn’t noticed I’d nodded off until I heard a heavy door slam in the distance. How long had I been asleep? The horrific details of the nightmare I’d just had came back to me. I’d dreamt I was in my jail cell five years from now, sitting on the chair I’d personally hand-crafted (turns out I’d excelled in woodwork), when a smug-looking security officer handed a newspaper in to me with a photo of Cian and Edna at their wedding reception. She was wearing a beautiful lace dress, her silky hair tumbling in loose curls around her face and a stunning pair of drop pearl-and-diamond earrings. The caption read: ‘Groom claims he has never been happier as gorgeous couple seal their love with wedding vows.’

  I have no idea why on earth it made front-page news but it was horrific. Perhaps it was a punishment method carried out by the prison system: find your weak points and flaunt them as pretend newspaper articles to chastise you.

  Well, it had worked.

  I wanted to tell Keelin and Susie about my dream, but they were caught up in their own thoughts of porridge and overalls and woodwork classes, and I didn’t want to make it all about me. I wasn’t really talking to Susie anyway.

  I slumped in my seat, resisting the urge to cry. If Cian hadn’t gone and fallen in love with Edna, he’d be on his way over here to get me. He’d look after me, mind me, sort it all out like he’d always done. But he was off minding someone else. Making someone else feel better. The tall, skinny Edna with the long, dark, silky hair. I was on my own.

  Before the lump in my throat could take hold, the large steel door creaked open.

  It was our captor.

  ‘One of the young men has confessed to the charges and has informed us that ye girls had no knowledge of the crimes that were taking place, so you are free to go.’

  I wanted to scream, ‘I told you so, you fat, bald, bearded man whom I could never love!’ but I thought it wiser to opt for a simple ‘Thank you.’

  We walked out of the station and stood breathing the fresh air for a minute, then grabbed each other in a fierce embrace. Even though I was still pissed off with Susie, I was so relieved to be going home I couldn’t find it in me to be cross with her.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she sobbed. ‘I’m so, so sorry.’

  A police car pulled up and two officers struggled to get a very drunk woman out of the back seat. She was shouting abuse at her partner, a diminutive, skinny man with a black eye. I wanted to hug him and tell him he could leave now and choose a different life. But then I remembered I wasn’t Jeremy Kyle, so I refrained. The three of us looked at each other and started to run. We didn’t stop until we reached the bottom of Grand Canal Street.

  ‘Wait! Stop! I have to sit down for a minute,’ I pleaded, wrapping myself around a lamppost, sliding down it and landing with a plop on the pavement.

  ‘I haven’t run that fast since Karen Millen announced they were having a one-off mark-down on stock due to water damage,’ Keelin gasped.

  ‘Guys, I’m so sorry about tonight, I really had no idea they were planning to do that,’ Susie blurted, and started to cry.

  ‘We know you didn’t.’ Keelin and I went to her side.

  ‘What are you going to do?’ I asked her, reminding myself that this whole mess was so much worse for her than it was for either of us. She had to end it with Aidan now once and for all, and it would break her heart. Even though he was the world’s biggest twat.

  She looked up at me with confused eyes. ‘What do you mean what am I going to do?’

  ‘About Aidan.’

  ‘What about Aidan, Izzy? It wasn’t his fault! He wasn’t selling the drugs, his friends were.’

  I stared at her in disbelief. Frustration sparked inside me. ‘Susie, are you that stupid? What the hell is happening to you?’

  Keelin backed me up. ‘Susie, listen,’ she counselled, ‘I know you’re upset at the moment, but you can’t let Aidan away with this, you just can’t. Even if he wasn’t personally going to sell the drugs on, he still knew that his friends were and he shouldn’t have put you in that position.’

  ‘But he never said anything…’

  ‘Obviously he never said anything!’ I erupted. ‘Until they were all there and there was nothing we could do about it!’

  ‘He was the one who got us out of there. He told the police we had nothing to do with it.’

  ‘Jesus, Susie, after how long? We’ve been in there for hours! It’s now five thirty in the morning! Yes, you’re right. I’m sorry. He’s so goddamn noble!’

  ‘Stop being such a bitch, Izzy,’ Susie wailed.

  ‘Do not blame me for this! If you want to be a complete doormat for that arsehole that’s up to you, but you’ve made it our problem this time, Susie. And, like always, you’re going to sweep whatever Aidan’s done under the carpet and pretend it hasn’t happened. You’ll be the first one he’ll come to looking for sympathy and you’ll give it to him. But he’s gone too far this time. Susie, please wake up and smell the coffee. You’ve had your fun, now just walk away.’ I gazed at her imploringly, hoping I’d got through to her. ‘This isn’t you.’

  ‘Well, I’m sorry, Izzy, but this is me, like it or lump it. I’ve had my fun? This isn’t some sort of game. I happen to be in love with Aidan. And you may think he makes me miserable, but you don’t see what we have together. He makes me feel I’m more than just some boring, predictable, sensible girl who always settles for “good enough”. It’s the first time I’ve ever taken a risk on something in my entire life – and you know what? That feels good!’

  ‘Susie, you’ve never been boring or predictable or sensible. Ever. What’s made you think that?’ Keelin asked sadly.

  ‘Keelin, please. You’ve always been the alternative, kooky one that people want to be around, and, Izzy, you’re the funny, crazy girl everyone adores. So what makes me stand out?’

  �
��Your wit and your intelligence and your amazing heart. My God, you don’t have to be loud like me and Izzy to get attention. Or be with some guy who’s wrong for you just because he makes you feel different.’

  ‘Well, does being in love not count for anything?’

  ‘It does, of course it does. But it can’t count for everything. Especially when he’s let you down this badly.’

  ‘Oh, and you’ve stuck by that philosophy, have you, Izzy?’ Suddenly she was fuming. ‘You let Cian walk all over you. He was off sleeping with somebody else and then running back to you, for Christ’s sake! And, deep down, you probably knew. What’s more, six months on you’re still pining for him. It’s insane!’

  I felt as if I’d been slapped across the face. I stood there, frozen with shock. How could she say that to me? She knew that Cian had been the love of my life. That he’d left me devastated. I hadn’t been pining for him. I was utterly heartbroken. We stared at each other as the words hung in the air around us. Just at that moment a woman in one of the houses near us opened her window and screamed at us to shut up or she’d pour boiling water over us. I hadn’t realized we’d been talking so loudly. She slammed the window shut and the only thing I could hear then was the sound of my breathing.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Izzy, I didn’t mean that,’ Susie whispered.

  I turned away from her and started to walk back down the road, my pace quickening with every step.

  ‘Please, Izzy, wait! I shouldn’t have said that – I’m just upset about everything. Please – just wait. Where are you going?’

  I couldn’t answer her. I had a lump in my throat that felt like a ball of soggy dough. If I tried to speak, I’d really start crying this time, and if I did that, I was afraid I’d sit down on the kerb and sob until it was time to go to work. And then Window Woman would pour boiling water over my head.

  I could hear Keelin and Susie trotting up behind me. ‘Izzy, wait,’ Keelin begged. ‘Look, we’re all upset and tired. How about we go home, put on the kettle and make some French toast?’

  That sounded so heavenly I nearly got lost in it. But there was no way I was going back to the house tonight. ‘Keelin, I’m not setting foot back there. What if the guys who were meant to pick up the drugs come for them? And what if they think we tipped off the police?’

  ‘Holy shit, you’re right! What will we do?’

  ‘Izzy, are you okay?’ Susie said quietly. She looked so worried I couldn’t help feeling a pang of guilt.

  ‘Let’s not talk about it now, okay? We should figure out what to do next.’ She gave me a defeated nod.

  Susie decided to hail a taxi and head for her parents’ house. I couldn’t face going home and getting another seven-hour grilling. I was so tired I’d probably end up blurting everything to my mother, who would be so shocked and horrified I’d be sent off to boarding school down the country. Even though I was too old for boarding school.

  Keelin couldn’t go home either because her parents had a houseful of guests. She decided to call over to Caroline and Orla’s and crash on their couch. Their apartment was far too small for us both to stay there. Keelin had already bagsed the couch, so I’d be left with one of the wooden chairs in the kitchen. Now, call me fussy but that really wouldn’t do it for me tonight. I persuaded Susie and Keelin to go, telling them I’d sort something out. We hailed a passing taxi.

  ‘Let us know you’re okay – text me, all right?’ Keelin demanded, before the taxi pulled away.

  It was already starting to get bright and a little choir of birds were practising their morning songs. A cold breeze whipped around me and I blew into my hands to warm them.

  I took out my mobile and phoned Gavin.

  He was there exactly eight minutes and twenty-seven seconds later. Believe me, I know, because I counted every single second out loud to keep my mind off the cold. And everything else.

  ‘Izzy,’ he called, climbing off his Vespa. ‘Izzy, are you okay?’

  I stood up as he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close to him. His fleece smelt of cinnamon, Bounce and toast and I inhaled it deeply into my lungs as I buried my head in his chest. He was so warm I could have fallen asleep standing there.

  ‘You okay?’ he asked again, in a whisper, as he stroked my hair. It was the nicest anyone had been to me all day, and I burst into tears of relief and exhaustion.

  15

  I’d been staying at Gavin’s for a few days now. Susie was still at her parents’ house and Keelin was still squatting on Caroline, Marcus and Will’s couch. She told me that, apart from the few soggy Pringles and the empty condom wrapper she’d found squished between the cushions, she was very comfortable. She had gone back to our place the next day, Marcus and Will flanking her, to rescue Dermot from the crime scene. Will said she’d looked ridiculous, creeping through the house on her hunkers looking for him, a can-opener poised in her right hand, ready to decapitate any lurking drug-dealers who might have it in their heads to use Dermot as a mule. Now she assured me that our rabbit was fine and that he was delighted with all the attention he was getting at his new abode. Caroline had given him a bath, blow-dried his fluff and straightened his fringe.

  I hadn’t spoken to Susie. We’d missed each other’s calls a few times. Maybe it was as well, until things settled down a bit more.

  I felt like a complete burden to Gavin, but he kept insisting I stay at his place. He seemed genuinely concerned about the danger of going back to the house and I was happy enough to agree with him. The idea of being there frightened me, especially since we’d found out that one of the family-killing tattoo brigade was some notorious drug gangster called the Terminator or something. I laughed when I heard his name and said I was going to start calling myself the T-Rex so they’d know not to mess with me. But Gavin said it really wasn’t a joking matter. The Terminator was a well-known gangster with a pretty nasty reputation. I still thought I could get through to him if only I could sit down with him and explain that the whole mix-up hadn’t had anything to do with us. But then Gavin told me that this guy had allegedly kneecapped some bloke for skipping ahead of him in a queue in Tesco, so I decided against it. (Although, I hate queue-skipping so much that I could empathize slightly there.)

  I hadn’t been back to the house at all since the night in question so I’d bought a few bits of underwear from Dunnes and some cheap makeup and shower gel from a bargain bin in the local chemist. Unfortunately, the foundation was about five times too dark for my skin, the shower gel smelt like pigeons and the work trousers I had bought in Penny’s for €7.50 looked like 1930s men’s breeches. I’d definitely looked better. Maybe it was time I went back to the house and collected some of my stuff.

  ‘I’ve decided, Gav. I’m going to head over to the house after dinner to pick up some things, including some pyjamas so you can have your Velvet Revolver T-shirt back. And I want to let you in on a little something. People who wear concert T-shirts while not at a concert always look like loner oddballs who still live at home with their mums. They send out all the wrong signals. I had to tell my dad to stop wearing his Céline Dion Live at the RDS jumper after I’d heard rumours that some of our neighbours thought he was gay and I felt sorry for Mum.’

  ‘How can you say that, Izzy?’ Gavin said, with a straight face ‘Slash is my life. I spend all of my spare time up in my room, with my hair dragged down over my face, in a big black baggy jumper and dirty jeans, smoking a cigarette, listening to Slash and writing poetry about how no one understands me and how shit my life is.’

  ‘I thought all you weirdo music heads were well over that stage by the time you hit sixteen. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I was into that for a while, except my depression was offset by Boyz II Men. But that phase pretty much passed with adolescence, when it finally dawned on me that the chance of my marrying Edward Furlong was slim.’

  ‘I’m coming with you,’ he said, smiling through a mouthful of spaghetti Bolognese.

  ‘To Boyz II Men at the Olympia
?’

  ‘Eh, no. To your house.’

  ‘Oh, Gav, honestly, you don’t have to, it’s fine. I’ll be in and out in no time…’

  ‘Forget it, I’m coming with you.’

  ‘Okay. Sure. That would be great. Thank you.’

  After we’d finished dinner and washed up, we decided to walk over to the house, seeing as it was a beautiful summer’s evening. Which was a good thing, really, as the Vespa and I still weren’t seeing eye to eye. I doubted we ever would, to be honest. I really missed my little E.T. adventure bike, but Gavin had said there was no problem leaving it on his balcony. Which was also a good thing because the plastic flip-flops that had come free with the magazine I’d bought earlier had already left a rather unsightly collage of red blisters across my feet.

  As we walked along, chatting about this and that, I couldn’t help wishing that every day could be filled with this easy summer feeling. The past week had been so great – except for intermittent thoughts of being gunned down by balaclava-wearing criminals in a Hiace van – and there were a lot of positives to focus on, like not being sent to jail for a crime I hadn’t committed. Which meant that my chances of seeing Jonathan again were quite high. Which was good.

  Or was it?

  God knew what might happen if I bumped into him. Given my track record, I’d probably fall and break my legs, burst into song, or start dancing around like a five-year-old with my skirt over my head, saying, ‘Look! No hands!’

  Hmm. It was probably best that I never saw him again. But I had made a solemn promise to Keelin, Susie and the taxi driver that I’d sleep with him.

  More positives? Well, staying at Gavin’s had helped take my mind off a certain person. Perhaps it was the change of scenery or that I was a guest in someone else’s home and had to make more of an effort not to walk around in a T-shirt and underwear, crying. More than anything, though, I’d been so busy that I hadn’t really had time to indulge in any self-pity parties. Work was more like a sweat factory by the day. Not only were we working insane hours with no breaks, but the thermostat was jammed at 30 degrees centigrade, so we were slaving away in conditions similar to a Turkish bath. In the evenings, Gavin and I usually ended up going for a drink or popping along to an event or a show.