Page 83 of Love Unlocked

AL

Al is sharing a new house with two men. It’s fine, they get along. They support different football teams so there’s great camaraderie. They actually like each other, they have drinks, go out. They live the bachelor life. But they’re not home right now.

He’s blaring the song ‘Happy’ by Pharrell Williams because it’s a beautiful spring day, the sun is out and he’s feeling good.

He dances around the kitchen and living room in his underwear, he has a double bedroom and en-suite to himself, the rest of the rooms are shared. It’s a light-hearted, exuberant song and that’s the vibe he’s going for today. He’s going to play it on repeat. It’s a Saturday, he’s just out of the shower, back from early morning training with his new rowing club who were looking for a stroke. He’s dating a little, nothing serious, and enjoying that too. Some disasters, some surprises, he has a third date with someone tomorrow night which feels promising. He’s in a good place, a better place, he’s found his feet again. He dances around, singing, getting dressed for Natasha’s boxing final which is taking place at the National Boxing Stadium.

When he arrives the atmosphere is electric, as one boxing match is already taking place. Natasha is in the zone in one corner of the hall, with her three brothers who are also boxers, and her coach dad who owns a boxing club. Her pink and blonde hair is held back tight in double French braids. Her mouth guard is in, she’s staring at a fixed point in the distance while her dad speaks in her ear, punching the air to emphasise each point. Her brothers move around her, organising her bag, her gear, massaging her shoulders, all of them built like tanks.

At fifty-five kilograms, Natasha is next in the ring, fighting someone by the name of Ciara McGinty from Edenderry.

Al doesn’t want to distract her but he does want her to know he’s there to support her so he stands nearby. As if sensing him, she looks his way. He’s scared that if she breaks out of her zone her team will all come after him and Al is strong but can’t take on four members of Natasha’s family, never mind Natasha. But her face breaks out into a smile and her mouth guard pops out, revealing her pink train tracks.

She runs to him and hugs him, covering him with her oil. Lovely. But he is moved she’s so pleased to see him.

‘You came!’ she says, delighted.

‘You’ve been in my corner, time for me to be in yours.’

‘Aww, you softie,’ she says, thumping him in his stomach playfully, but it almost winds him and knocks him back a step. He smiles and tries to hide it while her brothers look on.

He stands by the blue corner, feeling nerves in the pit of his stomach as Natasha’s name is announced by the referee and she takes to the ring, her gloves pumping in the air. Her opponent is second to the ring, and is a blockier build, which concerns Al. She looks stronger.

Natasha lands a good strong jab in the first round, but then starts dropping her hands, making herself vulnerable to counterpunches. Al can barely watch to see her face get hammered by her opponent, to see the blood pouring. But she keeps going, never backing down. When she’s called back to the corner, one brother gives her water, the other wipes her face, the third fixes her braid which has come loose, though he’s no hair stylist.

Natasha’s dad is firm and constant in her ear telling her to focus on maintaining a tighter guard, using her jab to set up combinations, and improving her footwork to create better angles for attack. Al steps a little closer to the ring.

‘Come on, Natasha,’ he growls, as the bell rings for the next round.

In the next round Natasha is faultless. She has the aggression to throw and land punches and she’s more strategic with her combinations. Al is almost hoarse from yelling at her alongside the rest of the crowd in her corner. Natasha has a strong and powerful opponent but she’s not strong enough. While Natasha gets more energy throughout the rounds, her rival starts to lose energy and Natasha makes her waste a lot of energy by missing. The opponent lands a right uppercut to Natasha and grazes her face, escaping danger.

Natasha retaliates and every punch lands. She makes her pay. The right hook is the kill shot. By now she is most definitely the dominant fighter and the judges agree, announcing her the winner.

Al roars at her victory. ‘That’s my … I work with her …’ he says proudly, to the man next to him. Though he can’t imagine what Natasha is going to look like on Monday morning.

Outside of the ring, after she has changed out of her fighting gear, he has to battle through her cousins and aunts and uncles jostling to get to her.

He hugs her tightly and she winces. ‘I took a couple of body shots,’ she says, fist-bumping him instead. ‘How do I look?’ she asks. ‘Honestly.’

‘Honestly? Like a mashed potato.’

She laughs, and holds her stomach.

‘Where are you all going to celebrate?’ he asks, looking to her family members. She has cleaned herself up and is wearing a pretty yellow dress, which will soon match the colour of the bruises on her face.

‘We are going to celebrate at the Grace Plunkett Bridge,’ she says, linking his arm. ‘Come on.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘Don’t pretend you don’t know what’s on today,’ she says, pulling him along with her, while he looks back and waves goodbye at her family, wondering if they’ll jump on him for taking her away. They all wave back politely, smiling.

Of course Al had listened to the recent Night and Day podcast inviting everyone to attend the bridge today if they’re looking to reunite. The official launch of the new additions to the bridge had been last week, officially launched by the lord mayor, Dublin City Council, members of the media and a large crowd. Tony had taken centre stage, taking the credit for Al’s idea, which Al didn’t mind in the slightest. The bridge guy had hung back, happy it had all worked out, looking around and kind of expecting Melody to be there and being utterly disappointed when she wasn’t.

‘I’m not going,’ he says, trying to pull away from Natasha when they go outside.

‘You are.’

‘It’s not appropriate.’ He hasn’t seen Melody since the goodbye in the car. He still listens to her Night Owl slot on the weekend, loves the sound of her voice, thinks of her fondly, wishing it had gone differently. He thinks about her, worries about her, especially late at night when he wonders if she’s alone. Then he hopes she is alone not just because he wants her, but because he wants her to be able to be alone.