‘Well, forget about me and him,’ I say. ‘Even if tonight’s date was a bust, this isn’t the end. You can try dating again when you feel up to it, but only if you want to. You can just have fun with it. And your life is still so much better than Justin’s right now, whether you’re with someone else or not. Yes, he might have his board-game woman, but he’s living in the arse end of nowhere doing an IT job he hates. And you’re in a city you love doing a job you adore. Plus it’s your birthday in two weeks and you’re going to celebrate it with loads of people who love you. Isn’t this true?’
‘It is,’ admits Roo.
‘Well, I know it’s easier said than done, but keep reminding yourself of that,’ I say. ‘And look, I know I’ve been caught up in my own nonsense recently. I’m sorry if I’ve been banging on about work and Art all the time.’
‘It’s fine,’ says Roo. ‘Bang away.’ She gives me a meaningful look.
‘Do your clients know you’ve got a mind like a sewer?’ I say.
‘No,’ says Roo. ‘They think I’m above such things.’
‘Seriously, Roo,’ I say, ‘I just hope you know … I hope you know that whatever nonsense I’ve got going on in my life, I’m always here for you. Whether you want to vent, or you want a pep talk, or someone to bitch about Justin or discuss clown dates with orwhatever. If you’d rather I shut up and stop spouting shite, I’ll shut up. And if you just want to sit here for a while and watch a Korean zombie show, that’s fine too.’
Roo doesn’t say anything for a moment. She looks down at her lap, blinks and rubs her eyes. Then she reaches across the couch, picks up the remote control, turns on the TV and, without looking at me, says, ‘I’m glad you’ve come home.’
‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘Me too.’
Chapter Thirteen
INT:NORTHSIDEOFFICES / INT: PUB / INT: ANNIE AND ROO’S HOUSE
‘Annie! Wait!’
It’s eleven o’clock on Thursday morning and I’m walking into the lift on my way to get a much-needed coffee when I hear Róisín, theNorthsideresearcher, calling my name. I suspect Art stayed up as late as I did last night working on his script, because neither of us has much energy today. Having barely spoken for the rest of yesterday afternoon, we’ve just grunted more or less politely at each other this morning. Art didn’t even mention the hot-pink top covered in red strawberries that I’m wearing. My script is looking a lot better than I feel, however, and I’m trying to be optimistic about getting a decent second draft done by tomorrow. But to do that I need some caffeine.
I press the button to keep the lift doors open until Róisín rushes in.
‘Thanks!’ she says.
‘No worries,’ I say, hitting the ground-floor button.
‘I wasn’t only calling you to hold the lift,’ says Róisín. ‘I wanted to apologise.’
‘Apologise?’ I say. ‘To me? What for?’
Róisín’s brown eyes are full of guilt. ‘I was the one who told Bernard about your sister.’
‘Ah,’ I say. ‘Okay. Well, it’s not a secret or anything.’
The lift doors open and we walk out into the lobby.
‘No, but …’ Róisín nervously twists one of her braids around her finger. ‘I really didn’t mean to tell him. He heard me mention your name to Lainey when we were leaving a production meeting – we were just saying that you look a bit like your sister, nothing weird.’
‘Okay,’ I say.
‘And Bernard kind of jumped in and asked how we knew your sister and, well, I told him who she was. But I didn’t know he was going to have a go at you about it at the next writers’ meeting. I’m really sorry.’
‘It’s fine,’ I say. ‘It’s not your fault.’
‘Thanks.’ Róisín’s smile is full of relief as we make our way through the lobby and out into the sunshine. ‘Sorry he’s been such a dick to you.’
A laugh escapes me. ‘He really has.’ Though seeing as he still hasn’t yelled at me for causing Adam’s injury, at least that bullet has been dodged. Adam mustn’t have told him.
‘If it’s any consolation,’ says Róisín, ‘I thought your ideas at the meetings were really good. Especially the bit about referencing Ma Cusack.’
I smile at her. ‘Thanks. It’s a pity Bernard didn’t agree.’
‘I mean, I don’t really remember Ma Cusack being on the show,’ says Róisín.