Page 56 of Swiping Right (and other disasters)

“I made promises to Chrissie.”

“Ones that she broke and that you both legally declared null and void when you got divorced,” said Clodagh quietly.

They both took a sip from their drinks.

“You owe her nothing, K,” Clodagh continued, who had taken to shortening her name in the last few months, following Charlie’s lead. “Even less now you’ve rescued her and rehabilitated her back into society.”

Kiera gave her a hard stare. “It’s been hard for her.”

“I don’t doubt it, K, but she’s not your problem. You’re not responsible for her. No one is. She’s responsible for herself.”

“You don’t know what she went through,” said Kiera, unable to keep the annoyance from her voice. She couldn’t work out if she was feeling defensive because she thought Clodagh was wrong or because she thought she was right.

“No, that’s very true. But I know what you went through. And, look, at the risk of really pissing you off, you look sad. Surely if you were meant to be with this woman, spending time with her would make you happy.”

Kiera could feel a lump in her throat and knew it was only a matter of time before hot angry tears began to flow. “You don’t know me. You haven’t any idea what’s going on in my head.” She stood up. “You can’t come here and tell me I’m unhappy. Only I know how I feel.”

Clodagh looked up at Kiera. “And how do you feel?”

Now the tears did begin to fall. Kiera opened her mouth to speak but didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know how she felt. But she knew it didn’t feel good. Suddenly she felt anger bubbling up. “It’s so easy for you, taking pot shots from where you are. You glide through life, sleeping with who you please and taking no responsibility. It’s not a grown-up way to live. And you can’t sit in judgement of me.”

Clodagh’s eyebrows shot up. “What? Really? Kiera, this really isn’t about me. And this is not you at all.”

“You barely know me,” said Kiera. “And I really don’t know why you bother.”

“Look, I get that you’re defensive, but you know what, I don’t need to sit here and listen to this.” Clodagh picked up her phone, put it in her pocket and stood to put her jacket on. “This is not ok. I’ll see you around.” And without another word, she left the bar.

Kiera knew immediately she’d been unfair, but didn’t have the energy to do anything about it. She got home to find Chrissie watching TV in the living room, drinking tea and eating the last of the custard creams. She tried to sneak past her into her bedroom.

“Kiera? You ok? I thought you were going to be later than this?”

“Yeah, fine,” said Kiera, her voice muffled. She scurried to her bedroom and quickly shut the door. She sat on her bed feeling more like a confused teenager than she had in decades. What she couldn’t work out was why she was crying. She’d been crying every day now for the last four weeks. Secretly. In her room after work. She’d say she needed a nap, or that she had a headache. But she’d go to her room, bury her head in her pillows and sob.

Chapter Forty-Two

One morning two weeks later, Kiera woke up crying. She’d been remembering her life, just a few months earlier. She recalled the frivolity of dating, the fun of getting to know Seymour, the possibilities that being together had opened up. She’d messed it all up. She knew she should get out of bed but she just couldn’t.

She lay on her back, gazing at the ceiling, thinking of how awful she’d been to Clodagh. She thought about how she’d run out on Seymour, how she’d even pushed Lou away. She was alone, but she was experiencing a moment of clarity: she could see that she was the architect of her own undoing. Knowing that didn’t mean she knew how to make it better, though.

She looked over at her phone, which she hadn’t even switched on for the last few days, and then to the window where the curtains were slightly open. A ray of sunshine was trying to get through. She felt heavier than she had ever felt, and was filled with the sense that everything was finished. There was no hope.

There was a knock at the door. “Kiera,” said Chrissie, “are you ok? You’re normally up by now. I don’t think I’ve seen you eat for a day or two. I’m worried.”

There was a pause. Then, slowly, Kiera raised her head. “Just feeling a bit under the weather. Going to sleep it off.” Her head hit the pillow and she pulled the covers over her head.

The next morning there was another knock. Kiera waited for Chrissie’s voice, but this time it was someone different.

It was Lou.

“Hun, come on, you need to let me in.” Her voice was familiar and warm and courted no dissent.

“Ok.” Kiera’s voice was croaky and barely there at all. The door handle turned and Lou came in.

“Oh, hun, what are we going to do with you, eh?” Lou sat on the bed and stroked Kiera’s hair, which hadn’t been washed for several days.

“Why are you here?” whispered Kiera.

“Chrissie might be a muppet, but she knows when something’s wrong. She called me. I’m calling the GP – you need to see someone today,” said Lou, scrolling through her phone.

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