I glared at her.
‘For security reasons,’ the nosey cow added.
Stating the obvious, I said, ‘I’m buying something.’
‘Right.’ She smiled and gave me my money. Highlighting how stupid the whole conversation was in the first place.
The doorbell rings again.
‘Hello. Heeelllooo. Tina, I know you’re in there. I heard the telly.’
‘I’m coming. I said I’m coming.’
I glance over my shoulder and give my pokey living space the once-over. Convinced everything looks as it should, I open the door.
‘Good morning,’ I say, unsurprised to find my landlord on my doorstep.
‘Um. Yeah,’ he says, stepping past me without an invite. ‘Good morning.’
‘Eh, would you like to come in?’ I groan sarcastically, as I close the door behind us.
‘Don’t pull that crap with me,’ he says. ‘I still own this place.’
I watch as he paces around the tiny living space. His eyes sweep over every piece of furniture. His body language is tense and jumpy. ‘Right. Where is it?’ he asks.
‘Where is what?’
‘The money?’
My throat tightens. ‘What money?’
Vinny shakes his head. ‘I’ve no time for games, Tina. I know you’ve gotten yourself mixed up in something. Drugs most likely, eh? You’ve always been a bit odd but I’ve tried to give you the benefit of the doubt. I thought you were just lonely, if I’m honest.’
I am lonely.
‘I’m not doing anything illegal,’ I say. ‘I promise.’
‘Well that’s not what your neighbours say. Apparently, you’ve a stack of cash hiding in here somewhere. They’ve seen it through the window.’
‘My neighbours said this? Ironic since they’re the ones up to no good.’
Vinny jams his hands on his hips and puffs out. ‘That lovely elderly couple. I don’t think so.’
I shake my head. ‘Hang on. Mr and Mrs Simmons? I’ve been nothing but nice to them.’
‘Oh I know,’ Vinny says. ‘I’ve had them in my ear plenty about you.’
I shake my head and look at Vinny with an expression that asks, What have they said?
‘You can’t keep turning up on their doorstep unannounced.’
‘But I just want to help,’ I say.
‘They have grown-up children of their own. They don’t need you. It’s bad enough that you call me at all hours of the day and night but now you’re pestering the neighbours too. It’s not on.’
I try not to let Vinny see how much his words hurt, but my eyes are glossing over.
‘Look, Tina,’ he says, clearly losing patience. ‘You’re not a bad kid. Maybe you got dealt a lousy hand in life or whatever but I can’t have trouble. You’re going to have to move out. I’m sorry.’
‘No, please,’ I say. ‘I’ve just been let go from work. That’s why I’ve so much free time. It’s where the money came from too. It’s a redundancy payment.’
‘Oh.’ Vinny sighs, and his stiff shoulders relax.
‘I’m going to set up my own business,’ I say. ‘I just need a little time.’
‘Good for you.’
‘Thank you,’ I say, smiling. ‘Here, let me show you.’ I hurry over to the countertop next to the cooker and fetch my scrapbook. I flick through the pages excitedly showing him pictures of elaborate cakes and muffins that I’ve cut out from baking magazines to create beautiful collages. ‘This one is lemon drizzle.’ I point. ‘Oh, and my favourite, a chocolate biscuit here. See?’
Vinny exhales and pulls a face. ‘These are all very nice, love, but there’s more to running a successful business than sticking pictures in some old scrapbook.’
‘I know. I know.’ I can’t curb my enthusiasm. ‘This is just the start. I have loads more ideas.’
‘Do you want my advice?’ he asks.
‘Sure.’ I shrug, closing my scrapbook, deflated that he’s not showing an interest.
‘Use the cash to buy yourself some decent clothes.’ He glances at my pyjamas where the seam on one side of my top is unravelling up to my ribcage and a long thread hangs loose. ‘Find a new job. And a new flat.’
‘A new flat?’ I echo.
‘In a better area, eh?’ he says.
‘You want me to move out?’ I say.
Vinny nods and his eyes are focused on the ground. ‘You have until the end of the month. Good luck, love.’
I watch as Vinny walks himself to the door. He doesn’t turn around, not even to say goodbye. I wait until he’s turned the corner at the end of the road before I slam the door behind him. I don’t realise I’ve been holding my breath until I press my back against the door and breathe out, exhausted. Bending my knees, I slide slowly to the floor, my eyes staring into the distance. I don’t even notice I’m staring at the TV – not until her face comes on.
Her!
It’s really her.
After all these years it’s Darcy Hogan. I don’t believe it.
Chapter Three
DARCY
Monday 10 June 2019
Luke kisses the top of my head. ‘I’d say good luck, but you don’t need it, honey.’
I raise my head to meet my husband’s loving gaze. I don’t tell him that my stomach is heaving and my palms are sticky. ‘Thank you,’ I say.
Luke takes a step back, drinking me in with his eyes the way he always does when he wants to make me feel special. The way he has done since we were just a couple of kids.
‘Can you watch?’ I ask. ‘Does the waiting room have a live stream or anything . . .’ I trail off.
‘I’m not going anywhere.’ Luke is grinning and his excitement is palpable. ‘I’ll be at the side of the set. Out of camera shot, of course,’ he adds.
‘Oh.’
‘I mean, I had to ask,’ Luke says, running his hand through his dark hair that’s greying at the sides. ‘But they didn’t seem to mind, and I thought you’d like the support.’
It’s uncomfortable to fold my arms above my large bump but I do it anyway as I nod and say, ‘I’m glad you’re here.’
‘Me too.’ Luke smiles. ‘Do you think many people will be watching? I really think it’s going to be so good for business.’
‘Yeah. Everyone watches the show, don’t they? Parents before the school run. Us when we’re getting ready for work. And it’s on the telly in every waiting room in the country. Every single appointment I’ve had at the maternity hospital has Good Morning, Ireland playing in the background.’ I take a moment to realise the enormity of what I’ve just said. ‘Oh God, Luke. So many people will be watching.’
Before Luke has a chance to reply, the girl with the clipboard comes to find us.
‘Ready?’ she asks, peeking her head around the door.
I wince, twitching nervously. I wish she’d introduced herself, or I had thought to ask her name earlier. It all feels awkward not knowing what to call her.
‘Oh God,’ I say, freaking out.