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“Don’t play the innocent with an old reporter,” Audrey warned. “I can smell a story a mile away. Not that I’d print yours, I just want to know what’s true and what’s not.”
Dessie pushed a breadcrumb around the table. “Not sure I want to open that particular can of worms right now. Or ever.” She met Audrey’s eyes, trying to gauge her sincerity and understanding. “Whatever I say gets twisted and turned.”
“I won’t twist anything. And I won’t press you further if it’s too hard for you to talk about it.”
“It’s okay.” Dessie suddenly felt an urge to tell her story to Audrey. “It could be good to tell you.”
Audrey nodded. “I’m listening.”
Dessie took a deep breath, and before she knew it, she had told Audrey her story: what happened in the rose garden; the subsequent heartbreak when Richard sent her a text message saying he was leaving; the moment of despair when she had run to the stables to hide, so ashamed and miserable she wanted to die. Then how Harry had found her and comforted her and Breda Quirke seeing them and spreading those horrible lies all over town. She drew breath when she had finished her tale. “That’s about it, really.”
Audrey looked thoughtful while she sipped her wine. “What a total gobshite.”
“I know,” Dessie sighed. “I can’t understand why I was so obsessed with him.”
“Because he was a hot American, of course. You were only—how old?”
“Nineteen. Should have known better at that age, but I hadn’t been anywhere really by then. I finished my leaving cert exams the year before, and then I worked with Miranda at her organic farm, helping her get started while I tried to decide what I really wanted to do with my life.”
“So you were this beautiful, innocent country girl, dreaming about your future, when this hottie from New York rides into town?”
Dessie couldn’t help laughing. “Yeah, that’s about it, really. Not so innocent now, though. I lived it up at college,” she added with a wink.
Audrey smiled. “Good for you. Us girls need to sow our wild oats too, don’t we?”
“Not that it made me particularly happy. I was just so angry. I think I took it out on other men. I just slept around for a bit and then I’d text them and say it was over.” Dessie felt a wave of shame wash over her. The bravado she’d felt when she’d told Miranda about her college years faded. She had treated those poor men badly. What would Audrey think? “Not very proud of that,” she mumbled.
Audrey topped up Dessie’s glass. “Not very nice, I agree. But having been run out of town by a lynch mob, so to speak, might have changed your outlook on life, and men. And yourself.”
Dessie picked up her glass. “Yeah, something like that. I kind of felt that everything that happened was all my fault, and then I started to hate myself. I wanted to punish myself and become harder and stronger that way.”
“Did it work?”
Dessie thought for a moment. “Yes, in a way. But I don’t think it made me immune to men, or to falling in love.” Suddenly, Rory’s face floated into her mind. “And if you do fall for someone, it’s very hard to stop it, even if he’s the last person you should love.”
Audrey leaned across the table and fixed Dessie with her bright blue eyes. “I have a feeling something’s going on there...”
Dessie felt her face flush. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Audrey sat back. “That’s okay. Of course. I’m sorry if you felt I was prying.”
“No, that’s okay. I’m glad I told you. Now you know what happened to me all those years ago. That’s a good thing. I have a feeling a lot of people are more open to believing me now. Except for Jules.”
Audrey pushed her glass away. “Jules? Stubborn woman. Very opinionated. But a true blue when the chips are down, Finola says. They’re very close.”
“That must be a strong friendship,” Dessie said with a shiver. “Not women you’d fool with and come out alive.”
Audrey giggled. “I’m sure Colin got more than he bargained for. Being married to Finola can’t be a walk in the park.” She paused. “But talking about men...how about Marcus? He’s not the...?”
Dessie shook her head. “Nah. Not my type. I don’t go for the fruity accent and the designer clothes. He’s a nice guy behind it all and very decent to work with, but that’s all. You’re welcome to him.”
“Gee, thanks.” Audrey smiled wickedly. “I find him quite delicious. But I hide it.”
“Not very well,” Dessie countered. “But I’m sure he hasn’t noticed.”
“That’s a relief.” Audrey examined the bottle. “All gone. Shall we open another?”
Dessie pushed away her glass. “No thanks. I’ve had enough truth serum for tonight. If I have any more, I might get totally pissed and tell you stuff you didn’t even want to know.”
“That sounds scary. But you’re right. Let’s call it a night. I need to get my beauty sleep if I’m to hook that hot Brit.”
They were interrupted by a trilling sound.
“My phone,” Dessie said after a moment’s confusion, and picked it up from the counter by the fridge. “Hello? What do you want? If you’re selling something, we’re broke.”
“Dessie?” Marcus asked. “Is that you? Are you feeling okay?”
“Yes, it’s me. I’m just a little...flustered. We finished the wine.”
Marcus started to laugh. “Oh, yes, I noticed it was strong. Fourteen percent. Enough to floor a very big horse.”
“We’re not floored, we’re very happy, thank you,” Dessie said primly. “Whaddya want? That date not going very well?”
“It wasn’t a date. It was a meeting. And she left. I’m still in the pub, and I’ve met some rather spiffing people, so I’ll be a bit late.”
“That’s absolutely fine, dear chap.”
“Delighted to hear it. Now listen, if you can take this in, I owe you dinner, right?”
“You certainly do,” Dessie said with feeling. “With knobs on. Where are you taking me?”
“I wish,” Marcus mumbled. “But seriously...there is this new gastro pub that just opened in Clonmel. I thought we could go there and try it out? And here is another suggestion. Ask Audrey if she wants to come too. What do you say?”
Dessie looked at Audrey and smiled. “That sounds like some kind of kinky threesome, but we’d love to, wouldn’t we, Audrey?”
Audrey nodded. “Definitely.”
“She said yes,” Dessie drawled into the phone. “You’ll never get a better offer.”
Marcus sighed. “You two sound completely pissed. But who’s complaining?”
“You got yourself a date with wonder boy,” Dessie said when she had hung up.
“Not what I’d call a dream date,” Audrey remarked. “But it’s a start, isn’t it?”
“A very good one. I think he wants you, but he hates himself for it. This way he can ogle you in secret.”
Audrey laughed. “I’ll ogle him right back.”
***
The main bar of the new gastro pub in Clonmel was buzzing, but the chic dining room was nearly deserted.
“Have you reserved?” The head waiter drawled, looking at them through half-closed eyes.
“No,” Marcus replied, scanning the room.
“In that case—”
“Hi, Seamus,” Dessie interrupted. “It’s you, isn’t it? Seamus Murphy? You sat in front of me in second year. You’ve grown since then, and your skin’s cleared up. Hardly recognised you. Hey, give us a good table, willya?”
Seamus blinked and opened his eyes fully. “Good evening, uh...?”
“Dessie. You know very well who I am,” she snapped, her Tipperary accent broadening. “Come on, we haven’t got all night.”
“I’ll have a look.” Seamus consulted a clipboard on the counter. “Weeell...”
Audrey stepped from behind Marcus and Dessie. “Jesus, will you give us a table! Don’t be so fecking precious. Where do you think you are? The Ritz? I’m going to review this place for the paper, you know, so...”
Seamus cleared his throat. “I can give you a table by the...” He stopped as Audrey marched across the restaurant and pulled out a chair at a table near the fireplace, where a turf fire blazed, casting a cosy glow on the polished floorboards.
“We’ll be very happy here,” she announced.
Seamus gave up. “Right. I’ll get you some menus.”
“Thanks,” Dessie called after him. “The restaurant looks fantastic, by the way. And your skin too.”
Laughing, Marcus sat down beside Audrey. “You two are priceless. Remind me to bring you next time I need a table in a crowded restaurant.”
“Only if the head waiter is a lad from County Tipperary,” Audrey said.
“I wouldn’t rule that out,” Dessie countered. “Tipp people are everywhere.”
“Let’s see what their food is like.” Audrey opened the menu a waitress had handed her and scanned the long list of dishes. “Great. Not too fancy. Good country fare with a modern twist. That’s clever. They even have black pudding with grainy mustard and sweet apple sauce as a starter. You should try that, Marcus. Not as filling as it looks. Then you could follow with Kerry lamb cutlets with mint jelly and pan-fried potatoes, served with rosemary flavoured puree of peas. How does that sound?”
“To a man who has spent five hours in the saddle?” Marcus quipped. “Heaven.”
“I’ll have that too,” Dessie cut in, her stomach rumbling. “You made it sound so delicious and I forgot to have lunch today.”
The restaurant slowly filled with customers. Dessie idly watched them while they waited for their orders. Most of them were couples out on a date, mixed with older people in groups. Dessie gave a start as a small group of people walked in, chatting and laughing. She vaguely recognised a few of them, but two in particular caught her attention—her sister Jules looking gorgeous in a blue top and wide black trousers and the man who followed her in...Rory, all dressed up in a suit and tie, looking faintly uncomfortable in such a trendy place.
Jules glanced around the room and caught sight of Dessie. Their eyes met. Time stood still. Then Jules walked across the floor to their table.
“Hi, Dessie.”
“Eh, hi,” Dessie mumbled. “Nice place they made out of the old warehouse, don’t you think?”
“Fabulous.” Jules glanced at Audrey. “Hi there, how are you?”
“Great, thanks,” Audrey replied. She gestured at Marcus. “This is Marcus Smythe from London. Dessie’s boss. Marcus, this is Juliet Thomas-Smith. Dessie’s sister.”
Marcus got up and shook hands with Jules. “I know. We met out hunting just a few hours ago. I hired that horse for the opening meet too. Nice to see you again. That’s one hell of a horse you’ve got.”
Jules nodded. “Thanks. He’s very special.” She turned to Dessie. “I...I have something I need to say to you. But not here...” She looked over her shoulder at Rory, who nodded. “Can you come to the house? Tomorrow?”
“Of course,” Dessie breathed, her heart racing. “When?”
“Around seven? For supper?”
“I’ll be there,” Dessie promised.
Jules touched Dessie’s arm. “Thank you. See you then.” She walked back to join her party.
Dessie looked on as Rory pulled out a chair for Jules. He looked up, and their eyes met. Dessie smiled. Rory grinned and winked then turned his attention back to Jules. Dessie’s gaze drifted to Audrey and Marcus, involved in flirty banter across the table. How lucky they were. Flirting and laughing and probably falling in love without complications. Why couldn’t that happen to her? She looked at her plate of black pudding with sweet apple sauce, beautifully presented and more delicate in flavour than she had expected. She glanced at Jules’ party and suddenly lost her appetite as she watched Rory put his hand on Jules’ back in an intimate gesture. She was sure he had been instrumental in getting Jules to soften toward her. How kind of him. A chance to talk to Jules and perhaps regain her trust and friendship. But what about Rory? How could she hide her feelings for him? Dessie ate without tasting anything, while the candles flickered and everyone around her had a wonderful evening.