I feel like the world is collapsing in around me. Two worlds, actually: the one where John played the leading man for so long and this other one, my New York one, that was supposed to be a fresh start away from all that.
‘I’ve an awful headache – it’s just come on me,’ I gasp at Jeff, lowering myself onto the couch dramatically. I need him to leave so I can try to make sense of things. I’m probably gone into shock. The same thing happened Majella when a lad she ghosted off Tinder showed up in her classroom as the cigire a few years ago. She could only speak in grunts for two days.
‘You do look a bit pale,’ Jeff says gently, sitting down beside me and placing a massive hand on my forehead. ‘No fever. Maybe that wine?’
‘Yeah, could be. Bad tannins or something.’
‘You got any Advil?’
‘There’s some paracetamol – sorry, Tylenol – in the bathroom. Would you mind getting it for me?’
As soon as he leaves the room I snap back into action and grab my phone. There’s a new message from John Dubai. I only get to read the first line – ‘Ais??? Who was’ – when I hear Jeff coming back and shove the phone under a cushion.
‘You want me to stick around? Maybe you need some rest but I’m happy to play doctor.’ He winks at me as he’s putting the tablets on the coffee table, and I suddenly feel a bit suffocated.
‘Ah, look, the snow is really starting to come down and I’ll probably go to bed soon.’
He pulls a blanket up around me. ‘Okay, you do that. And stay warm. I’m working tomorrow but I’ll call you.’ And then he adds pointedly: ‘Maybe we can have that talk.’
The talk about our relationship. The talk I’ve been putting off for days. ‘Yeah, definitely,’ I say weakly, ‘thanks a million.’
He starts gathering his bits and a wave of affection hits. He’s such a good guy. The realisation that I’m so baldly lying to him makes me groan out loud.
He turns around, a look of concern etched on his handsome face. ‘Hey, hey, you okay? I can stay if you like?’
I shake my head, the icy grip of guilt creeping upwards from my stomach into my chest. ‘No, no. You better go before the weather turns. It’s just with everything at home,’ I gesture at the telly, where we’d been watching the report about the Big Stink, ‘I think it’s the relief that it’s all over and everyone’s going to be okay.’
He nods and heads for the door. ‘Talk to ya tomorrow. Get some sleep – paramedic’s orders.’
As soon as the door clicks behind him, I rifle through the couch cushions and find my phone.
‘Ais??? Who was that? I knew I should have told you I was coming. I’m in the bar across the road. I’m going to wait a while. If you want me, you know where I am.’
I untangle myself from the blanket and scramble to the window, my eyes searching the dark street outside. The door of my building slams shut and I watch Jeff, his shoulders hunched against the cold, make his way down the street in the direction of the subway. Not two seconds later, the door of Dingo’s opens and I see the unmistakable shape of John. The sure-footed stance. Those wide sloping shoulders. The outline of his beard, a bit longer now than when I saw him for the last time in BGB. It really is John. I’m still processing it. John is not in Dubai. He’s come to see me. He raises his hand and steps forward under the Christmas lights that have sprung up like mushrooms all over the city in the past couple of days. He’s staring up at me, fighting a smile.
I jump back and yank the cord, slamming the blind shut. And then, without thinking, I’m pulling on my runners and reaching for my parka and flying out the door and down, down, down the stairs and out into the frigid night. When I stumble over the front steps he’s waiting there on the footpath – sidewalk – to steady me.
‘Thanks’ is all I can manage to squeeze out.
‘Your Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ?’ He frowns. ‘I’m not sure I want to know who that guy was. Why didn’t you introduce me?’
I don’t want to explain about Jeff right now. I can’t, it’s too complicated. ‘He’s just a friend, and in my defence, I was fairly shook! What are you doing here?’ I croak.
‘I told you, I had to see you. Look, Ais, I have things I’ve wanted to say to you for a long time now.’
I reach out and touch his chest just to be sure it’s not all just a dream. He’s wearing tracksuit bottoms and a Knock Rangers half-zip. His travelling outfit. The fabric is soft under my fingers. And familiar, oh so familiar.
‘John …’ I swallow.
But he interrupts me with a deep inhale and a flow of words. ‘I’ve never stopped loving you, Aisling. Not for one minute. I need to explain to you how everything got out of hand.’
My heart is hammering so hard in my chest I’m sure he can hear it.
‘I know I owe you that, and so much more.’ He takes a breath. ‘Megan …’
His fiancée’s name catches in his throat and I feel it in mine too. Did she know about all the emails and texts over the last while? That phone call the other night when me and John put two and two together and figured out what was causing the Big Stink? Where is she now? Does she even know he’s here?
‘Megan,’ he continues, ‘was offered the teaching job in Dubai and she was mad to go for it. The money is so good out there.’
‘Tax free,’ I say. It comes out sounding strangled.
‘That’s right.’ He nods. ‘She wanted me to go too, and I suppose I wanted to get away from BGB. I knew I still had feelings for you, and I thought a bit of distance would draw a line under us for once and for all. Out of sight, out of mind, you know? And you were with yer man James Matthews anyway, so what was the point in staying? There was nothing for me at home.’
It sounds like he’s rehearsed this speech. Maybe he did on the flight over. I want to ask him if he’s telling me the truth but I can’t get any words out.
‘So I told her I’d go. And then the school, well, they don’t like women to be unmarried if they’re living with a lad out there. It’s a cultural thing. So she said we could tell them we’re engaged. Loads of girls she knows have done it and it works so, yeah, that’s what we did. But we shouldn’t have. We were never going to get married. We both knew it.’
I think back to Majella’s wedding – well, joint wedding with Hollywood couple Emilia Coburn and Ben Dixon, the new James Bond – and how I felt the moment John told me he was engaged. And leaving. I’d just finished things with James, lovely James Matthews, in the hope that me and John could rekindle what we once had. It felt like a punch to the gut. ‘But you seemed so happy together.’
He reaches for my hand. It feels soft and warm despite the cold, and mine small and at home in it. ‘Things between us were … grand. But when we got to Dubai it started really falling apart. I hated it there as much as she loved it. I was thinking about you all the time, so I was glad of it – I was glad to be away. And then everything happened with the Big Stink, and we were back talking, and I knew I couldn’t live the rest of my days without being honest and telling you how I feel. Aisling, you’re the one. It just took me a really long time to get here.’
‘Stealing lines from Mr Big again?’
He smiles. ‘I just wanted to come and rescue you.’
Now I’m the one who has to be honest. ‘I don’t need rescuing, John. I like it here. I’m happy. I have a good life. And what about Megan?’
‘That’s been over for ages. Well, not officially. That only happened in the last few days. It was mutual in the end.’
‘Everyone says that. Áine Conatty said that when Packy Grady shifted Gillian McGrath in front of her after the 2016 county final.’
‘It really was, I swear. We’re going to stay friends. But I’ve left Dubai for good. I’m not going back. I didn’t even have that much to pack. It was like I knew I wasn’t staying.’
It’s starting to really snow now. Big fluffy flakes are dancing under the twinkling lights. Not wet sideways snow that disappears as soon as it hits the ground like we get once a year at home. This snow is different. Everything is suddenly different now. John still loves me.
I take a deep breath and I’m about to explain about Jeff and what we have and how it’s not so black and white at my end when John starts shifting from foot to foot and then he’s gone.
He’s down on one knee, both hands now clasped around mine. ‘There’s something that I want to ask you, something that I should have asked years ago.’
He’s not. Oh, he is! He flips open a small square box, and for a second, I feel like I’m going to pass out.
‘Aisling, will you marry me?’