Putting Out the Stars (12 page)

Breffni came in, holding glasses and serviettes. ‘Yes please, more yummy wine.’ She sat opposite Laura and Ruth and helped herself to a tartlet as Laura topped up her glass. Her
scent wafted over as she moved. ‘So, Ruth, how do you like living in Limerick so far?’ She bit into her tartlet and watched Ruth as she munched.

Ruth blushed slightly. ‘Great; it’s so easy to get around, after Dublin.’ She lifted the plate that Laura had given her, reached for the tartlet.

Breffni swallowed, took another bite. ‘By that, you mean it’s so much smaller than Dublin?’ Her expression was politely innocent, waiting for Ruth’s response.

Ruth’s smile faltered; her hand paused halfway to her mouth. ‘Well, yes it is, of course, but I didn’t mean that –’

‘Relax – I’m just kidding. I know what you meant.’ Breffni lifted her glass towards Ruth. ‘Here’s to wedded bliss; even if you have to live with mother-in-law
for the moment.’ She winked at Laura, who was looking at her sternly. ‘Great starters, Laur, by the way.’ She popped the rest of her tartlet into her mouth, still holding her
glass out.

Ruth dropped her untouched tartlet and lifted her glass, smiling faintly. She clinked it against Breffni’s and took a quick gulp as Laura stood with the plate of starters. ‘I’d
better see if they need more; back in a sec.’

Ruth watched her cross the room, then reached for her tartlet again.

‘They’re specially for you, by the way, to remind you of Crete.’ Breffni indicated the tartlet with her head. ‘Apparently you ate quite a lot of them over
there.’

Ruth blushed deeper. ‘Oh, I didn’t realise everyone knew that.’ She raised the tartlet to her lips and took a tiny bite, holding her plate just under her chin to catch the
crumbs.

Breffni watched as she ate. ‘That’s where you and Andrew met, wasn’t it? In Crete. And then you went back there for the honeymoon.’

Ruth nodded, eyes on her tartlet. Her tongue shot out and licked a crumb from the corner of her mouth.

‘Very romantic. So –’ Breffni smiled again, lowered her voice ‘– was it love at first sight, or what?’

Ruth giggled nervously. She put her plate down and grabbed her wine glass. ‘Kind of.’ She took a quick swallow, avoiding Breffni’s eyes. ‘For me, anyway.’ She
lifted a serviette and dabbed at her mouth, hoping to God that her lipstick hadn’t disappeared, but knowing that it had. Why on earth had she said that – for me, anyway – as if
Andrew hadn’t felt anything for her initially, as if the feeling had been all on her side? Stupid. She lifted her glass again, conscious of being watched from across the coffee table, forcing
herself to look at Breffni and give a too-bright smile.

After a few seconds of silence, Laura reappeared with the last few tartlets and picked up the wine bottle. Breffni held out her glass. ‘I’m going to be on my ear – this wine is
just too delicious.’

Laura topped up each of their glasses and held the empty bottle up in Donal’s direction before sitting down again next to Ruth. ‘So what have I missed?’

‘Well, I’m grilling Ruth about when she met Andrew, but she’s giving nothing away; I’ll have to corner him at dinner and get all the juicy details.’ Breffni grinned
and lifted her glass.

Laura gave her a sharp look – couldn’t she see she was making Ruth uncomfortable? She turned to her sister-in-law. ‘Ignore her, Ruth – just tell her to mind her own
business. What d’you think of the tartlets?’

‘They’re really delicious.’ Ruth took another tiny nibble from hers.

‘Mmm, aren’t they? Having a husband who can cook has its uses.’

‘I told Ruth they were specially for her.’ Breffni popped the last of her tartlet into her mouth, licking off the stray crumbs that stuck to her lips. Ruth wondered how she kept her
lipstick so perfectly in place.

Laura shot another warning glance at Breffni – was she imagining it, or was Breffni really picking on Ruth? Probably just her idea of fun, but she obviously hadn’t yet realised how
sensitive Ruth was. Laura would just have to change the subject, and hope Breffni took the hint. She picked up her own half-eaten tartlet. ‘Pity they’re loaded with calories.’

Ruth gave a wry smile. ‘I’d say so; I know I put on weight on holidays.’ She bent her head and took another tiny, careful bite. Her pale hair, imprisoned in its clip, looked
almost white in the soft light.

Breffni watched her picking at the tartlet, like a rabbit nibbling at a bit of lettuce. What on earth did Andrew see in such a mousy little creature? She turned to Laura. ‘Ah, can’t
you just see herself and Andrew, gazing into each other’s eyes over a couple of spinach pies?’

‘At least Ruth could eat,’ Laura said quickly. ‘When I met Donal, I was so besotted I went right off my food – had to force myself to eat these gorgeous meals he cooked
for me. I lost nearly a stone; first time in years I fitted into a size ten.’

‘And when I met Cian I couldn’t eat either, and I still put on weight; I couldn’t understand it.’ Breffni shrugged her shoulders and looked puzzled.

Laura shot her a sceptical look. ‘You, not able to eat? In San Francisco, surrounded by just about every kind of food in the world? Pull the other one.’

Breffni shook her head, wide-eyed. ‘No, it’s true – ask him. Not a bite for ages.’ She paused. ‘Unless, of course, you count the odd pizza, to stop me from
collapsing – and the buckets of popcorn at the movies, to keep my strength up –’ She sipped her wine as Laura exchanged a smile with Ruth ‘– and a tub of Ben &
Jerry’s every now and again, just for the calcium.’ She looked innocently from one to the other. ‘Well I had to have something, didn’t I? I couldn’t let myself starve,
just when I’d found the man of my dreams.’

Laura snorted. ‘You – starve? That’ll be the day.’ She held out the last few tartlets. ‘Here, you’d better get another one inside you; you’re starting
to wilt.’

Breffni immediately took one and bit into it. She spoke through a mouthful of spinach and pastry. ‘Thanks; I
was
feeling a little faint.’

‘Stop talking with your mouth full – you’re spraying all over my good chair.’

Ruth watched them, smiling. Breffni was so beautiful; Laura hadn’t mentioned that. And so confident. Not that Laura wasn’t striking too, with those auburn curls and the same deep
green eyes as Andrew.

But Breffni – she could be a film star. Her skin was so creamy, and it didn’t look like she had any make-up on. Ruth wouldn’t dream of going out without her tinted moisturiser
and lipstick, even if it was gone five minutes later. She felt nervous in the company of these two smiling, confident women – particularly Breffni, even though Breffni had been perfectly
friendly to her. She was a bit more direct than Ruth was comfortable with, that was all. It was Ruth’s stupid self-consciousness that was making her nervous, nothing else.

Laura stood up. ‘Time to feed the starving.’ Immediately Ruth stood too, nearly knocking her glass over. ‘I’ll give you a hand.’ She suddenly didn’t want to
be left alone with Breffni again.

She was aware of being watched as she moved around the room, and she was glad when Andrew reached out and put an arm around her while she was stacking their plates. She smiled gratefully at him
and followed Laura into the kitchen.

Cian joined Breffni on the couch, and she rewarded him with a dazzling smile.

‘So how’s married life then?’ Donal turned back to Andrew after watching Laura and Ruth leave the room.

‘Fine; can’t complain so far.’ Andrew took a handful of nuts from a nearby bowl and began popping them one by one into his mouth. ‘Mind you, I’ve been lucky –
never had to fend for myself like you.’ He grinned at Donal. ‘Always had someone picking up after me.’

‘And now you have Ruth.’

Andrew nodded, still smiling. ‘Now I have Ruth.’

‘And does she realise that she’s going to be the one who does all the picking up in this new house?’ Donal was smiling too.

‘Course she does; she’s much better at all that sort of thing than me. And I can’t cook to save my life – we’re not all Jamie Olivers like yourself.’

Donal folded his arms and regarded Andrew thoughtfully. ‘Maybe – and this is just a thought – if you gave cooking a go now and again you might get the hang of it.’

Andrew laughed, not seeming a bit put out. ‘God, you’re the real new man. Working all day and then going home to cook your wife’s dinner. Isn’t she the lucky
woman?’ He popped a few more nuts into his mouth, enjoying himself.

Donal handed him a new can of lager, then opened a fresh can for himself. ‘Anway –’ he filled his glass and raised it ‘– here’s to Ruth’s cooking; for
her sake, I hope it’s as good as your mother’s.’

Andrew tipped his glass in Donal’s direction. ‘Not yet; but I live in hope. She’s got plenty of time to learn.’ He put back his head and drank, and Donal watched him,
smile fading slightly.

‘. . . Laura, this lamb is fabulous; you must have been cooking it all day . . .’

‘. . . Pass the mint sauce, would you Cian? Thanks . . .’

‘. . . Ruth, will you have some more potatoes? You’ve hardly any there . . .’

‘. . . Oops, sorry – your good tablecloth. Will it come out, do you think . . . ?’

‘. . . I hadn’t a notion of it, and I wasn’t long telling her either. The nerve of her, expecting me to drop everything . . .’

‘. . . Yeah, whole garlic cloves in with the potatoes – not peeled, no . . .’

‘. . . He has a new CD out; has anyone heard it yet . . . ?’

‘. . . It was my first trip abroad, and I found the heat a bit much really . . .’

‘. . . Ah would you look at him, everyone; isn’t he the real gentleman . . . ?’

‘. . . You’re very quiet tonight. Is everything OK . . . ?’

It hit him like a tidal wave, slamming into the space where he imagined his heart to be, as soon as he laid eyes on her. Catching him completely off guard, forcing him to
breathe deeply when nobody was watching him, to try to slow his racing pulse. All through dinner he watched her across the table, mesmerised. Saw her lifting a glass. Putting a forkful of food into
her mouth. Talking with her neighbours. Gesturing, laughing. Pushing her hair behind her ear. Propping her chin in her hand. Once or twice meeting his eye briefly, smiling at him when that
happened.

He knew how ridiculous it was – he was like a teenager with a crush, for God’s sake – but he simply couldn’t help himself. Couldn’t drag his eyes away from her.

He was careful, of course. Laughed when everyone else did, pretended to be interested in the plate of food in front of him. It was all he could do to eat it; tomorrow he wouldn’t remember
what was served. He drank water and wine without tasting a difference. Had no idea what they all spoke about, or what he said when anyone addressed him. Felt light-headed long before he’d had
enough alcohol to cause it.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off her.