How to Fall in Love (7 page)

‘It wasn’t those things?’

‘Ah, I don’t know.’

‘But they haven’t helped?’ I offered.

‘No. They haven’t.’

‘So tell me about the job that’s worrying you.’

‘This feels like a therapy session, me lying here, you sitting there.’ He stared up at the ceiling. ‘I was given leave by my job to go and help run my father’s company while he was sick. I hate it, but it was fine because it was temporary. Then Father got sicker, so I had to stay longer. It was hard to convince my job to extend the leave and now the doctor says Father’s not getting any better. It’s terminal. Then I found out last week that work are letting me go; they can’t afford for me to spend any more time away.’

‘So you lose your dad and your job. And your girlfriend. And your best friend,’ I summarised for him. ‘All in one week.’

‘Why, thank you so much for saying that all out loud for me.’

‘I have fourteen days to fix you, I don’t have time for tip-toeing,’ I said lightly.

‘Actually, it’s thirteen.’

‘When your dad passes away, you’re not expected to keep the position, are you?’

‘That’s the problem: it’s a family business. My grandfather left the company to my father, next it falls to me, and so on and so on.’

The tension was building just talking about it. Realising I needed to tread carefully, I asked, ‘Have you spoken to your father about not wanting the job?’

He laughed lightly, bitterly. ‘You clearly don’t know my family. It doesn’t matter what I tell him; the job is mine whether I like it or not. My grandfather’s will states that the company is my father’s for life, then it falls to my father’s children, and if I don’t join the business, then it reverts to my uncle’s son and his family inherit it.’

‘Surely that saves you.’

He buried his head in his hands and rubbed his eyes with frustration. ‘It screws me even more. Look, I appreciate you trying, but you don’t understand the situation. It’s too complicated for me to explain, but let’s just say it involves years and years of family
shit
and I’m smack bang in the middle of it.’

His fingers were trembling. He rubbed them on his jeans, up and down, up and down. He probably wasn’t even aware that he was doing it. Time to lift the mood.

‘Tell me about your job, the job you love.’

He looked at me, a rare playful look in his eye. ‘What do you think it is that I do?’

I studied him. ‘A model?’

He swung his legs off the couch and sat up. It was so quick I thought he was going to dive on me; instead he looked at me in shock. ‘Are you kidding?’

‘You’re not a model?’

‘Why the hell would you say that?’

‘Because
…’

‘Because what?’

He was flabbergasted. It was the first time I’d seen him so animated.

‘Don’t tell me no one has ever said that to you before?’

He shook his head. ‘No. No way.’

‘Oh. Even your girlfriend?’

‘No!’ He laughed quickly, and it was beautiful, a beautiful sound that I wanted to hear again. ‘You’re pulling my leg.’ Then he laid down again, feet up, the smile and the laugh gone.

‘I’m not. You happen to be the most handsome man I’ve ever seen and so I thought you might be a model,’ I explained rationally. ‘I wasn’t making it up!’

He looked at me then, his face softer, a little embarrassed, as he tried to figure out whether I was joking. But I wasn’t joking. If anything, I was mortified; I hadn’t meant it to come out like that. I had meant to say he was handsome, but it came out wrong because it came out right.

‘So what do you do?’ I changed the subject, picking imaginary fluff from my jeans to avoid looking at him.

‘You’ll enjoy this.’

‘Go on.’

‘A stripogram. One of those Chippendales. Because I’m so handsome and all.’

I rolled my eyes and sat back.

‘Ah, I’m only messing. I’m a helicopter pilot for the Irish Coast Guard.’

My mouth dropped.

‘See, I told you you’d enjoy it.’ He studied me.

‘You rescue people,’ I said.

‘We have so much in common, you and I.’

There was no way Adam could go back to that job with him being in this frame of mind. I wouldn’t let him, I couldn’t let him,
they
wouldn’t let him.

‘You said the family company falls to your father’s children after his death. Do you have any siblings?’

‘I have an older sister. She’s next in line, but she moved to Boston. She had to leg it over there when it came out that her husband had stolen millions from his friends in a Ponzi scheme. He was supposed to invest it for them but spent it instead. Took quite a bit from me too. Took a whole lot from my dad.’

‘Your poor sister.’

‘Lavinia? She was probably the brains behind it. It’s not just that, there are other complications. The company should have passed to my uncle, who was the eldest brother, but he’s a selfish prick and my grandfather knew he’d run the company into the ground if it was left to him, so instead it went to Father. As a result, the family was split between those who sympathised with Uncle Liam and those who took my father’s side. So if I don’t take over and it falls to my cousin … It’s difficult to explain to someone who isn’t part of the family. You can’t know how hard it is to turn your back on something, even though you despise it, because there’s loyalty involved.’

‘I left my husband last week,’ I blurted out. Just like that, I said it. My heart was hammering in my chest; it must have been the first time I’d said it to anyone, out loud. For so long I’d wanted to leave him, but couldn’t because I wanted to be the loyal wife who followed through on my vows. I knew exactly the loyalty Adam was talking about.

He looked at me, surprised. For a moment he studied me, as if questioning whether my claim was authentic. ‘What did he do?’

‘He’s an electrician, why?’

‘No. Why did you leave him? What did he do wrong?’

I swallowed, examined my nails. ‘He didn’t do anything wrong really. He … I wasn’t happy.’

He blew air out of his nose, unamused. ‘So you find your own happiness at his expense.’

I knew he was thinking about his girlfriend.

‘It’s not a philosophy I like to preach.’

‘But you practise it.’

‘You can’t know how hard it is to leave someone,’ I echoed his earlier words.

‘Touché.’

‘You have to weigh up the risks,’ I said. ‘Together we would have both been miserable for the rest of our lives. He’ll get over me. He’ll get over me a lot quicker than he thinks.’

‘And what if he doesn’t?’

I didn’t know how to respond. The thought had never occurred to me. I was sure Barry would get over me. He would have to.

Adam disappeared after that. He stayed in the room but vanished into his mind, no doubt pondering the future for him and his girlfriend. Getting over her wasn’t an option; he wanted her back. And if his girlfriend felt for Adam the way I felt for Barry, they hadn’t a hope in hell.

‘So what do you do?’ he asked, as if suddenly realising he knew nothing about the woman who was intent on saving his life.

‘What do you think I do?’ I played his game.

He didn’t think for very long. ‘Work in a charity shop?’

I had to laugh. ‘That’s random.’ I looked down at my clothes, wondering if he thought my jeans, denim shirt and Converse trainers had come from a charity shop. They may have been casual but they were all brand new, and double denim was back in.

He smiled. ‘I don’t mean your clothes. It’s more … you seem the caring type. Maybe a vet, or something to do with rescued animals?’ He shrugged. ‘Am I close?’

I cleared my throat. ‘I’m in recruitment.’

His smile faded. His disappointment was palpable, his concern even more so. And he didn’t try to cover it up.

In a few hours I would have twelve days left. And so far I had achieved nothing.

7

How to Build Friendships and Develop Trust

I would have sworn to anyone who’d listen that I hadn’t slept all night, because I was sure I hadn’t, but instead of the realisation that morning had finally come upon me, it was the sound of running water that forced me out of sleep mode. Confused that I’d been asleep, it took me a moment to remember where I was. I was wide-awake and immediately alert; I didn’t do groggy. When I discovered the couch where Adam had been lying was empty I immediately jumped up, rushed into the bedroom, banging my knee on the coffee table and my elbow on the doorframe, not fully thinking things through, and barged into the bathroom where I was faced with a bare, very pert and muscular bottom which hadn’t seen the sun for a long time. Adam twisted his upper body around, his blond curls were flattened and darkened and dripping down along his face. I couldn’t stop staring.

‘Don’t worry, I’m alive,’ he said, amused again.

I quickly backed out of the bathroom, closed the door suppressing an awkward giggle, and hurried to the guest toilet to make myself look presentable after a night in double denim. When I emerged from the living room, the water continued to fall in the bathroom. After ten minutes it was still falling. I paced the bedroom wondering what to do. Walking in on him once was a mistake, a second time would be plain creepy but I wasn’t sure I could afford to be worried about my integrity when two nights ago he had attempted to kill himself, though apart from shrinking himself to death I wasn’t sure he could harm himself in there. I had removed the glasses from the sink area so he couldn’t hurt himself and I hadn’t heard any mirrors smash. I was about to push the bathroom door open again when I heard the sound. It was quiet at first, then it sounded choked, so full of hurt, so deep and longing I let go of the handle and rested my head against the door, wanting so much to comfort him. Feeling helpless, I listened to his sobs.

Then I remembered the suicide note. If I didn’t get my hands on it before he got out of the shower, I’d never see it. I looked around the room and saw his clothes discarded in the corner, his jeans strewn on top of his travel bag. I felt my way around each pocket and finally found the folded piece of paper. I opened it, hoping to gain more insight into the reasons of his attempted suicide, but instead found a series of scribbles, some crossed out, others underlined and I quickly learned that it wasn’t a suicide note at all; it was his proposal to Maria, practised over and over, rewritten until it was perfect.

A vibration from Adam’s phone stole my attention away. It was beside the fresh clothes he’d laid out to wear that day. The phone stopped ringing and the screen revealed
seventeen missed calls
. It rang again.
Maria.
I made a quick decision, one that didn’t involve much thinking through. I answered it.

I was mid conversation with her when I realised the shower had stopped running, in fact I hadn’t heard it in a while. I turned around, his phone still to my ear. Adam was standing at the bathroom door, as if he’d been there for a while, towel wrapped around his waist, his skin bone dry, anger on his face. I quickly made my excuses and ended the call. I spoke before he had the chance to attack me.

‘You had seventeen missed calls on your phone, I thought it might be important so I answered. Also, if this is going to work between us, then I need total access to your life. No holds barred. No secrets.’

I stopped to make sure he understood. He didn’t object.

‘That was Maria. She was worried about you. She was afraid you’d hurt yourself after last night, or worse. She’s been worried about you for a year now, extremely worried for nine months. She felt she wasn’t getting through to you so she went to Sean for help, so they could figure out what to do. She fought how she felt for him, but she fell for Sean. They didn’t want to hurt you. They’ve been together for six weeks. She didn’t know how to tell you. She thought your behaviour was down to your sister leaving Ireland, then you having to leave your job, and your father being sick. She said every time she wanted to talk to you, something bad happened. She wanted to tell you about her and Sean, but then the news about your father’s illness being terminal came. She said she’d arranged to meet with you last week to tell you finally, and instead you told her about being let go from your job. She wished you hadn’t found out the way you did.’

I watched as he took all of this in. He was seething, the anger was bubbling beneath his skin but I could see the hurt too, he was really so fragile, so delicate, so heartbroken, a whisper away from breaking.

I continued, ‘She seemed put out that I answered the phone, upset, almost angry with me that she didn’t know who I was. She said in the six years you were together she thought she knew all of your friends. She was jealous.’

The anger seemed to lessen then, with thoughts of her jealousy of him and another woman like water over his burning rage.

I felt hesitant about adding the rest but took a gamble that I thought would pay off. ‘She said she doesn’t recognise you any more. That you used to be fun – funny and spontaneous. She said you’ve lost your spark.’

His eyes filled a little and he coughed and shook his head, macho man back.

‘We’re going to get you back to that way again, Adam, I promise. Who knows, maybe she’ll recognise the man she fell in love with and she’ll fall in love with him all over again. We’ll rediscover your spark.’

I gave him space to think about that and waited in the living room, nervously biting my nails. Twenty long minutes later he appeared in the doorway, fully dressed, eyes clear and hiding any proof of his despair.

‘Breakfast?’

The dining-room buffet had quite an array of food to choose from and customers went back and forth several times to avail of the all-you-can-eat menu. We sat with our backs to the display with cups of black coffee and empty placemats.

‘So you don’t eat, you don’t really sleep and we both like to rescue people. What else do we have in common?’ Adam said.

I had lost my appetite three months ago, the same time I’d realised I was not happy in my marriage. As a result of losing my appetite, I’d lost a lot of weight, though I was working on it through my
How to Get Your Appetite Back One Bite at a Time
book.