Corina parks illegally at Arrivals in Dublin airport to meet me and sweeps me home in her little car. Colin hadn’t been at the airport in Amsterdam when I got there at eight o’clock – he must have been on the seven thirty out. Dublin mocks me with its twinkling Christmas lights and jovial atmosphere. ’Tis the season to be jolly. People in colourful Christmas jumpers under heavy coats walk in the middle of the road, invincible, determined to do the twelve pubs of Christmas. Everyone is merry.
‘I want to go home, Corina.’ I start to cry again, my eyes are actually sore now.
‘Oh, not tonight please, Ali. Let the dust settle … Not tonight. You need to regroup, think about this with a clear head.’ She never takes her eyes off the road.
‘I need to see my children!’ I scream at the top of my lungs. ‘You don’t get it! I need to see them now!’ I bash my hands onto the dashboard. Still she remains perfectly calm.
‘Arghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!’ I scream so hard I hurt my throat.
‘Scream again!’ she says and I do. I scream over and over and over. How her ears aren’t deafened, I don’t know. She drives carefully. When I can scream no more, I collapse back into the passenger seat. I lay my head against the soft headrest. Only now can I smell the potent BO coming from me.
‘Oh, I stink. Can we drive by the house then, that’s all?’ I ask in a small voice.
She’s in her pyjamas with her long ankle-length fawn Next coat covering them and a pair of black Uggs. We drive straight to my house but the place is in total darkness and Colin’s car is not there.
‘Where the hell does Maia live?’ I whack the dashboard again and wrack my brains. Somewhere in Castleknock but I have no idea where. I’ve tried calling her too but, like Colin’s, her phone has been off for hours.
‘Let’s just go back to mine, it’s late. Tomorrow is a new day. Even if Colin was there with the children, or we found them at Maia’s apartment, do you really think they need to witness you both face off tonight?’ Corina says in the most sympathetic of tones.
I shake my head. More reluctant than I have ever been in my life. The want to see my children a real physical ache in my belly.
‘Fucking hell, Corina,’ I say. ‘What the fuck have I done? What the fuck am I going to do?’
‘We’ll see … we’ll figure it out … Let’s just get you home.’ She drops her foot harder down onto the accelerator.
* * *
Back at her house Corina makes me take a hot shower, puts me in a pair of her flannel Lenor-smelling pyjamas and makes me sweet tea and hot buttered toast. I drink the tea but the toast sticks in my throat. Her fire-in-a-bag is blazing now, and we both sit cross-legged in front of it.
‘I better try ringing him again.’ I go to get up.
‘Leave it now, Ali. It’s after midnight, tomorrow is Saturday … I’m off all weekend, we can go over together in the morning. I’d say he’s at that Maia’s house, she must have agreed to take the kids on a sleepover to let him go to Amsterdam. He won’t expect you home tonight.’ Corina leans in and pokes the fire. The flames rage higher.
I nod.
‘Your place looks lovely,’ I tell her in a very small voice and it is. She has the best taste in Christmas decorations, always does. It’s all pale blues and silvers. It reminds me of the cover of Disney’s Frozen storybooks. What I wouldn’t give right now to be reading that to Mark. I’d read the whole book five times over if he asked me to. I’d read all night long and act out every page. There is nowhere else I’d rather be. I’d walk Jade over to Karen’s myself and go back and collect her in a hour, any night no matter how dark it was. No bother. Sure, I’d enjoy the time we would get to spend together on the walks.
I tilt my head to breathe in the smell of pine from her tree, which is sitting in the corner beneath her television with white twinkling fairy lights and pale blue decorations. Minimalist.
‘So,’ Corina says in a tone that tells me she’s just trying to take my mind off things, ‘I found out Trevor doesn’t really live in Manchester, he lives in Dublin. I bumped into the Pimple at a lunchtime event in the Dillon hotel I was doing, for that new men’s magazine, All About Men. He’d had quite a few of the potent free cocktails. Anyway, among other things, the Pimple told me, “Trev just tells girls that so he can get away from them easily”. Unless they are brain-dead like me and have already planned their move to Manchester,’ she guffaws.
The mention of Manchester brings Colin to my mind. His khaki school bag with all its Manchester United graffiti. His love for that team. Is it really that bad that he has an interest? I’d happily watch a match now. I’d go with him to Old Trafford if he wanted me to. It isn’t really such a big deal.
‘Did you like him that much?’ I ask, dragging my focus back to my friend. I curl my hands around my huge mug of sweet Barry’s tea.
‘Yeah … I kinda did. Thicko.’ She raises her perfectly shaped HDs at me.
‘Sorry.’ I lean over and rub her thigh. The light from the flames bouncing off her sweet, freckled face.
‘Holy shitballs with Colin though, what?’ She lets out a long, slow breath. She looks shattered, poor Corina.
‘Yep. What a massive tit I am.’
Corina looks like she is about to say something, but just nods her head. Agreeing with me. And all I can do is accept it.