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I found the candlelit bar at the Bianconi Inn deserted. Confused, I looked around, wondering if I’d misunderstood Colin’s message. He said there was a party, but there wasn’t even a waiter around. The piped music played Sinatra songs and the candles flickered, throwing pools of light on the mahogany tables scattered around the room. I walked across the plush carpet and peered across the bar counter, but there was no one to even serve a drink.
Was this some kind of silly joke? Annoyed, I decided to go to the office. I didn’t have time to play games. But before I reached the door, a waiter appeared, carrying a bottle of champagne in a cooler and some glasses. He placed them on one of the tables.
He looked at me. “Miss McGee?”
“Yes?”
“Mr Foley said to expect you. May I serve you a glass of champagne?”
“Yes,” I replied. “Fine. Thanks. But I was expecting a party. Where is everybody?”
He looked confused. “Party? No, there’s no party here, as far as I know. Mr Foley and his guests will be with you shortly.” He expertly popped open the bottle, poured me a glass and handed it to me. Then he nodded and disappeared behind the counter. I sat down and sipped the champagne, thinking I’d leave once I’d finished the glass. What the hell was Colin up to?
I was sitting there, fuming about having been brought into town on false pretences, when Colin, Jerry, Miranda and Aiden walked in.
I got up and greeted Miranda and Jerry with a kiss on the cheek and clapped Aiden on the back, trying not to meet Colin’s eyes.
“Hi there,” I said. “I was wondering what was going on.”
Colin grabbed my elbow and planted a light kiss on my cheek. “It got too noisy in the pub, and in any case, Aidan’s under age, so he couldn’t even be there. Here at the Inn there are different rules, especially if you’re an invited guest.”
I pulled away. “I see.” I swallowed and composed myself, smiling at Aidan. “Congratulations, Aidan. It was a great presentation. Sorry about bailing out, but I felt it was your evening.”
Aidan nodded. “Yeah, that’s okay. I understand why you didn’t want to be up there with the lights and the cameras and TV and everything. I thought it was pretty cool, though,” he added and blushed.
“Totally cool,” I agreed. “I could tell you liked the buzz too.”
Aidan laughed. “Yeah, I did. Some of the girls who were there asked for my autograph, and several of them wanted me to pose with them in their selfies.”
“I think you created a monster, Finola,” Jerry remarked.
“And Colin had huge competition tonight,” Miranda added. “Nobody even looked at him.”
Colin laughed. “Yes, I feel really old now.” He went to the bar counter. “Hey, Fintan, could you pour my guests some champagne?”
The waiter reappeared. “Of course, Mr Foley. I was just telling the girls in the kitchen to bring out some snacks.”
Colin nodded. “Perfect. So why don’t we sit down and enjoy a little bit of bubbly and some finger food?”
We all sat down around a table and drank champagne and nibbled on cocktail sausages and tiny sandwiches. I realised how hungry I was and wolfed down the food on my plate in seconds.
“Sorry. I forgot to have dinner,” I said when I noticed everyone looking at me.
Miranda handed me a plate of sausage rolls. “Here. There’s more than enough for us all.” She stood up. “We have to go in any case.”
“But it’s not that late,” Colin protested. “Only nine o’clock.”
“I know, but the boys have homework,” Miranda replied. She ruffled Aidan’s hair. “And you have a maths test tomorrow. So come on, rock star, you have to make sure you get through school before you can get back into the limelight.”
Jerry and Aidan joined Miranda, said their goodbyes and before I had time to move, left me all alone with Colin. And a plate of sausage rolls. I looked at the plate and felt Colin’s eyes on me.
“Are you going to eat all that?” he asked, his voice full of laughter.
I put the plate on the table. “No. I’ve suddenly lost my appetite.”
He lifted the bottle. “More champagne? This bottle’s empty, but I can order some more.”
I got up. “No, I have to work later. Not to mention drive home.”
“You could always stay here, of course.”
I met his eyes. The invitation I saw there made my face hot. “No thanks.”
Colin stood up and took my hand. “I want to tell you something.”
I pulled away and picked up my bag. “Yeah, I’m sure you do. But whatever it is, I don’t want to hear it.”
He put up his hands in a gesture of surrender and backed away. “Okay, if that’s what you want. I thought we had something pretty special, but that was probably just me being foolish.”
I stopped on the way to the door. “Something special?” I spat. “Is that what you have with Caroline too?” I turned away to hide the tears welling up, fumbling with the door handle, but Colin leapt across the room and stopped me.
“What are you talking about?” he asked. “Caroline and me—that’s impossible. I thought you knew that.”
I stared at him. “Knew what?”
Colin sighed and let his arms fall. “Caroline’s gay, you eejit.”
My breath caught in my throat. “What? She’s gay? I didn’t know that. I thought she was married?”
Colin nodded. “Yes. She is. To a woman. They got married shortly after gay marriage was made legal in Ireland. But it wasn’t reported in the press then, because she wasn’t that well known. She still isn’t, but that’ll change when the movie comes out.”
“Oh.” I paused while I tried to digest this latest piece of information. “But what about you and her and that dinner date? I saw you put your hand on her leg and wink at me at the same time. What the hell was that?”
Colin rolled his eyes. “I thought you’d get it. It was supposed to be a little joke between you and me. I was sure you knew about Caroline.”
“How would I know? I haven’t had much contact with her, as she’s been locked up in her trailer most of the time, doing her great Garbo-I-want-to-be-alone act.’”
Colin shrugged. “Yeah, I know. But you’re a bloody journalist, aren’t you?”
I folded my arms. “A journalist, yes. But I can’t actually read minds, you know.” Something that had been niggling me popped into my mind. “Okay, if Caroline’s gay, as in preferring women to men, what about that night in her trailer. You and her—naked, involved in some rather intimate...stuff,” I ended lamely.
Colin stared at me. “What? In her trailer...” He frowned. “How did you know about...”
I sighed. “I’m afraid Dan got a little too enthusiastic about taking pictures with his new camera. He must have pointed his telephoto lens in the wrong direction.”
“Jesus, that’s awful,” Colin exclaimed. “I see you might have come to all the wrong conclusions if you saw that. But believe me, nothing happened. It wasn’t even in her trailer—it was in mine. We were rehearsing the pivotal love scene of the movie.” Colin ran his hand through his hair. “So Danny boy must have caught that with his new toy. But there was nothing remotely sexy going on, I swear.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “Really? That’s not what it looked like to me.”
Colin put his hands on my shoulders and stared into my eyes. “We were acting, darlin’.”
“An Oscar-winning performance, no doubt,” I said, my voice dripping with irony. But I felt myself soften to his touch. Was he telling the truth?
He laughed and pulled me close. “I certainly hope so. Sweetheart, can’t you see what I’m trying to tell you? We were rehearsing because Caroline is so bloody stiff and cold in the love scenes. I just wanted her to relax. And we weren’t naked, even if it must have looked like it in the photo. I had my pants on and she was in this flesh-coloured slip, or whatever you call it. The director was there, too, in the background, but you probably couldn’t see him.”
I sighed and relaxed in his arms, too tired to fight. “Okay,” I whispered into his neck. “I believe you.”
He pulled away and looked at me. “You do?”
I nodded and buried my nose in the hollow of his throat, breathing in the smell of soap and clean skin. “Yes.”
“I could enquire about your hot date with that hunky farmer,” Colin muttered. “You looked pretty cosy there, with your heads together, whispering and touching each other.”
I sighed. “He was telling me about the woman he was in love with. His mother wouldn’t approve, so they broke up.”
Colin laughed softly. “A mammy’s boy?”
“You could say that, yes. Not my kind of man, like you.”
He held me tight. “What do we do now?”
“I don’t know,” I whispered. “Just keep holding me. I’m tired of being sad and lonely.”
“Me too.”
“What? You’re sad and lonely? I find that rather hard to believe.”
Colin took me by the arms and gave me a shake. “Oh, Finola, shut up, will ya? Why do you have to analyse everything I say? If I say I’m often sad and lonely, that’s the truth.”
“Okay.”
“What do we do now? We can’t stand here all night hugging.”
I laughed, wiped my eyes and pulled away from his arms. I was going to say something, invite him to the cottage or tell him I’d go up to his room if he wanted that, when both our phones beeped at the same time. I glanced at mine. It was Audrey asking me to go to the office. I had to write that piece and do the whole coverage of Aidan’s event for the following day’s issue.
“Shit, I have to go and talk to the producer,” Colin groaned as he looked at his phone. “Some problem with the schedule.”
“And I have to go and make sure tomorrow’s edition is okay. And write the article about the launch. I also have to check on the finals and the layout and stuff.”
“So we’ll have to put this—us—on hold, then,” Colin said softly.
“I suppose,” I sighed.
He touched my cheek. “I’ll call in on you later. Would that be okay? I just want to talk to you.”
I nodded. “Me too. About lots of things. Everything.”
“Yes.” Colin put his hands on my shoulders and looked at me. “Just remember this—I hate small talk. With you, I want to talk about death, aliens, sex, magic, intellect, the meaning of life, faraway galaxies, the lies you’ve told, your flaws, my flaws, your favourite colour, your childhood, what keeps you up at night, your insecurities, your fears. I like your depth and twisted mind. I don’t want to know ‘what’s up,’ or what the hell is ‘trending’ or whatever shit everyone else is talking about. Is that clear?”
“Completely,” I laughed. “I’d love that. And I love you.”
He looked at me, long and hard without speaking for what seemed like an hour. Had I said too much? Was this too heavy for him?
“Oh baby,” he finally whispered and kissed the palm of my hand. Then he let me go and walked out.