Page 14 of A Part of Me and You
‘It suits you. It really does.’
‘I suppose it does,’ she says, admiring her reflection in the mirror. ‘How much is it?’
‘Sixty euro,’ I tell her. ‘But I can do it for fifty-five?’
She is just about to reply when Terence arrives at the door, pushing it open with his backside like he always does, his hands laden with cardboard boxes full of delights that I can’t wait to get my hands on.
‘Sorry Shelley! Better late than never, love,’ he says. ‘I got stuck at the hospital yesterday. Did you get my text?’
I glance back at my customer but instead of responding to the price, she has disappeared back into the changing room so I focus on Terence and the delivery while I wait for her return.
‘I didn’t get your text, but not to worry,’ I say to him. ‘I thought you’d traded me in for the big game today.’
Terence sets the box of goodies on the floor and wipes his hands, damp from the drizzle outside, on his trusty black jacket.
‘I’m going to try and catch some of the second half from my armchair at home,’ he tells me, handing over the delivery receipt and pointing out where I need to sign. ‘You’re my last delivery. I always save the best to last.’
I look up and he gives me a wink and a knowing smile.
‘I’m doing okay,’ I say to him, wincing as I write the date on his copy of the receipt. ‘Just don’t talk to me too much about it. Talk about the football match. Or the weather. Horrible weather for July, isn’t it? Where on earth is our summer?’
The lady with the blonde wig is out of the changing rooms now and without looking my way, she hangs the dress back where she got it, gives a casual wave in my direction and slips off out through the door. Strange. I was sure she was going to take it.
‘Awful weather altogether,’ says Terence. ‘I have a bet on that Galway will do the business, but I think that’s my heart more than my head talking. What do you think?’
‘Eh?’
I look past him out on to the street where I see her scuttle away in the light drizzle, her handbag her only shelter from the rain.
‘The match?’ says Terence.
‘Oh yeah. The match. Let’s hope we can do it,’ I mumble back at him.
‘Look after yourself today, missy,’ he tells me and since he knows me so well by now he leaves it at that. I walk him to the door, unable to resist a peep outside into the damp, drizzly day. I see the woman with the wig shuffling past a few diehard fans in Galway football jerseys out for their half-time smoke before she makes her way down the road past Brannigan’s.
I see tourists every day, all year round here in this town but there’s something about her that has caught me, in a good way and I wish I had engaged with her more. I wish I had the courage to talk to people, especially other women, properly. You know, make friends again. Socialise. But I always get stuck. I get too afraid of opening up to people who would rather not hear of my troubles. Everyone has troubles of their own, I suppose, and who would want to hear about mine?
Chapter 6
Juliette
‘I forgot my purse,’ I say to Rosie who has made herself at home on the sofa in the cottage that will be our home for the next seven days. ‘How on earth could I do that? I got to the shop and tried on the most gorgeous dress then realised I didn’t have my purse with me. Have you seen it anywhere?’
‘The wi-fi here is so bad,’ says Rosie, totally ignoring what I just said. ‘I’m going to go off my head with boredom here. Where is this place anyhow? Bally-go-backwards or somewhere? I can’t even find it on Google Maps.’
She is snapchatting or doing whatever it is that teenagers do on their phones, recording and sharing their every move, and her nonchalance to reality and the fact that I cannot find my purse is making me irritable.
‘Rosie, have you seen my purse anywhere?’ I ask more directly. ‘I went to that nice vintage shop on the corner to buy something warm and it’s not in my handbag. Rosie?’
She swings her long legs off the sofa and grunts as she walks to the sideboard in the living area and hands me my purse from inside her own handbag.
‘Are you losing your memory or something?’ she asks me. ‘Like, duh! You gave it to me in that pub earlier to pay for the drinks and told me to keep it safe ‘til we got to this place. You always forget stuff and then act like it’s my fault! I don’t want to be here! I am so bored already!’
I take the purse from her and put it in my bag, bewildered at what has just happened. I don’t know what has shaken me more – the fact that I genuinely don’t remember giving her the purse or the way she just spoke to me. Rosie never speaks to me like that, ever. We have never raised our voices to each other and I certainly don’t want it to start happening now.
‘Rosie, this is a beautiful place and I know it’s raining and the wi-fi might not be what you are used to, but I want this to be special for us. We haven’t had a holiday together in such a long time.’
‘What are you on about? We went to Salou last year. And why do we even have to go on holiday in the first place? What’s the big rush to go on holiday?’
