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‘I feel the same.’ She did, didn’t she? Well, she wasn’t sure exactly, but she certainly didn’t want to spend any time in the village while the great romance between Eddie and Anya was being played out so publicly and even though she loved her family dearly, there were things to sort out in the flat. Did she really want Eddie coming back in and spending hours there sorting out his stuff? Did she want to have the same conversations with him over and over? ‘Actually, I’m going to ring the hospital next and offer to go in and do any shifts that need filling between now and New Year’s.’
‘So, you’re going back early?’
‘Yep, this time of year, there’s always a plug to be filled in some department.’ Actually, she’d be tempted to go back even if they didn’t; now she thought about the flat. The last thing she needed was to leave it too long. It would be too depressing to think of going back to full shifts and still having to sort everything out in her free time. She could imagine the coldness of the place; no, far better to go back in her own time and get her life back into some kind of new order that was of her own fashioning. Then she could start the New Year with a clean slate.
‘You’re thinking about the flat and Eddie and the mess of having to get this all sorted out as painlessly as possible,’ Pete cut into her thoughts.
‘Honestly, it’s like you can read my mind.’ He always could, she knew; it came from both of them sitting beside Rachel, having the same thoughts and fears and never being able to give them voice.
‘Maybe I can.’ He laughed. ‘Look, if you’re going back, I can give you a lift, help you clear things out and change the locks, if you’d like.’
‘Oh, I don’t know about that. It seems very—’
‘Sensible, if you ask me. You know, Eddie’s lost that front door key more times than he can count?’
‘To be fair, he’s never been very good at maths.’ She managed to knock a laugh out of Pete with that one.
‘You know what I mean. Let me do this for you. It’s only such a small thing, but it’d mean…’ He let the words run off, because she knew what it would mean. It would mean keeping his word to Rachel. It would mean he was still looking out for her, keeping her safe, keeping that connection alive for a little longer. ‘And anyway, have you thought about maybe moving all his stuff over to the workshop? You don’t own a car, remember?’
‘Okay, so, you’ve talked me into it.’
*
Finn rang the doorbell at exactly seven-thirty. Bang on time, and Liv couldn’t help but compare that to Eddie’s constant tardiness.
‘Wish me luck?’ she said to Maya before heading for the door.
‘Hang on,’ Maya said pushing her into the bedroom. ‘I’ll get this; you go reapply some lipstick or something.’
From the bedroom, Liv listened while Maya introduced herself and let Finn in. When Liv walked into the sitting room, they were standing opposite each other, Finn chatting happily while Maya took the measure of him, and Liv loved her sister all the more for her concerned attitude. No-one was going to do to Liv again what Eddie had done, not if Maya could help it.
‘So, you’ve met Maya?’ Liv asked as she put on her coat.
‘Yes, she’s exactly how you described her, the hotshot lawyer…’ He was smiling. It was meant to be a compliment while making fun.
‘Hardly.’ Maya laughed. ‘More like a country bumpkin solicitor – I’m afraid it’s not very exciting. Most of our practice is dealing with tort law and old wills.’
‘Still, you’re living in one of the most scenic corners of Ireland and working in a job you love,’ Liv reminded her.
‘True,’ Maya said. ‘Now, enough about me, what about this one?’ She nodded towards Finn in a friendly way.
‘Oh, I’m very boring. I write fantasy novels and spend most of my time locked up in a room surrounded by weird little character faces and the rest of it, trying to get away from them.’
‘Must be nice,’ Liv said, ‘having your commute to work no further than from bedroom to kitchen.’ She was ready to go now, all buttoned up, with gloves and hat on too.
‘Well, have a lovely time, you two,’ Maya said opening the door for them. When Liv turned to give her a kiss, she whispered, ‘Ooh, la la, exactly what you need to get over Eddie Quirke.’
And Liv couldn’t help but think she might be right. Finn O’Connell was everything Eddie was not. He was tall and classically handsome, clean-cut and he dressed well, as if he’d made an effort for seeing her tonight, which was more than Eddie had ever managed, or Liv suspected, ever would, even for Anya.
They walked towards town for a while, making small talk. He told her about getting out of hospital, home to his little house. He’d left the heating on and it felt like walking into the Sahara. ‘I had to open all the windows for an hour; I thought I’d actually suffocate.’ He laughed. They stopped outside La Redoute. Liv passed the restaurant often on her way to town, but she’d never eaten here. She’d heard that they had a waiting list of up to three months for a table; it was definitely a place to be seen if you were one of Dublin’s glitterati.
‘Well, this is very fancy; you should have warned me,’ she said looking around the restaurant. It was all white, with heavy oak tables and obscene teal-themed artworks on the walls, obviously all by the same artist. They were a collision of subjects, clearly grouped together mainly for their dominant colour. Liv felt completely underdressed. ‘If I’d known we were coming to…’ She trailed off, wondering how on earth he had managed to get a reservation. She silenced a niggling voice that perhaps he’d meant to bring someone else and they’d bailed on him – that was, she knew, measuring him by Eddie’s standards and that simply wasn’t fair.
‘You look beautiful. I’m just glad to have you here; would you still have come if I’d made a song and dance about where we were going?’
‘Of course.’ But she wasn’t so sure. After all, she had work first thing in the morning. She’d worn her jeans, for heaven’s sake; at least they were her best ones, but still. And this place, well, she’d never been anywhere quite so fancy before. She could rhyme off half a dozen celebrity weddings that had been held here in the last couple of years and they were only the ones that couldn’t be kept out of the papers. ‘But I’d probably have suggested somewhere a bit lower key.’ She laughed, because for all its exclusivity it had enough breeding not to make her feel out of place, even if she was the only woman here not wearing a cocktail dress. ‘How did you get a table?’
‘Ah, that’s meant to be a secret, but…’ He tapped the side of his nose. She didn’t doubt he would know everyone worth knowing on the showbiz scene, what with his previous marriage to Mena Swan. Actually, the more she thought about it, this place was more than likely a second home to him. ‘Since you’re going to find out anyway, so, I might as well tell you. My brother is a chef here; he’s great for emergency dinner reservations. I know, it’s a bit starry, but the food is excellent.’
