‘Just go smoke this quick. See you up there.’ Dylan got up, deposited his cup in the bin, and went towards the door.
‘Okay. See you up there.’
As Dylan nodded and sloped off up the road, she looked on anxiously. Fuck. She hadn’t seen that coming. This could make things difficult. She was team leader, and he was part of the team. It had never even occurred to Sinead that he fancied her. Was that why he helped her move house? She’d thought it was just because he was a nice guy! Telling him she was seeing someone made her cringe; she’d panicked and couldn’t think of what else to say. She drank some coffee and burnt her tongue. She cursed, pushed the cup away, folded her arms on the table, and rested her weary head.
What was wrong with her? It’d been years since anyone other than creepy dudes on the street had asked her out on a date. And everyone liked Dylan. No one had a bad word to say about him. Sinead had no idea what he saw in her, though.
***
Getting through the day was tough; chugging wasn’t a job where you could just wing it with a hangover. Sinead felt that her approaches were laboured and lacking energy, and when she did get people to stop she had to force herself to smile and bite her lip when she wanted to yawn. By mid-afternoon she was struggling to make her target and was counting down the hours until six.
The team were giving her a major headache. Dylan must have had some weed hidden in his tobacco pouch because he’d snuck off during his lunch break to get high. Sinead saw it in his eyes when he came back; she couldn’t say anything to him, though, and was uncertain about how to handle the whole awkward situation. He acted like everything was cool between them, but it was obvious their friendship was now compromised. To make matters worse, Dina and Maisie were slacking again; Sinead had to give them another ticking off after lunch, but had decided to leave them to it after that. They were lucky she felt too rough to straighten them out, but they wouldn’t be getting away with it next time.
As she stood on the busy pavement, slowly psyching herself up for the next batch of punters, Sinead recalled last night’s dinner with Elliot. It had been thoughtful of him to cook and make her feel at home, but there was something odd about his manner that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Maybe it was a trace of condescension in his voice? But then he was upper middle class, and that was just how they spoke. It could be the age gap; he was quite a bit older than her. Elliot reminded her of some MPs she’d seen debating on the news; he had that same vibe of entitlement and privilege – pleasant and charming but also cold and aloof. And he had a sense of humour without really being very funny. He was a bit of an enigma.
Would they be able to get on with each other long term? She found it easier interacting with strangers because the conversation never lasted more than ten minutes, and she could put on a great act. Friends and family were the difficult ones; they knew who you really were. Sinead could keep a conversation going with anyone while she was at work, but a whole day of it left her feeling emotionally drained. When she came home she didn’t always feel like talking, and she hoped that wouldn’t be a problem. She needed some me time to recharge her battery. She hoped Elliot was the type of guy who would understand that. Anyway, it was early days; there was no need to be too concerned. They just needed to get to know each other better.
***
The next day, Sinead had been on Facebook for maybe twenty seconds when she discovered Heidi had lied to her. She sat with her laptop on the bed, staring at the photo of Heidi with her new boyfriend, Tim. At least she assumed it was Tim – Sinead hadn’t even been introduced to him yet. He looked like a chubby accountant, sweeping Heidi off her feet. They were in the lounge of the girls’ shared house. In the background were several shit-faced partygoers. Sinead reread the text message on her phone. Sorry hun – can’t make it tonight. Absolutely shattered. Feel like death!
‘Yeah, looks like it.’
She clicked on more images: a typical Magz selfie with plastic cowboy hat and zonked-out expression; Heidi knocking back a shot glass; Imogen and Joel slow dancing. Heidi, Tim, Magz, Imogen and Joel posing for a group shot. Underneath that one, Imogen had commented, Never a dull moment with this lot. Broomhouse Road Squad know how to party y’all!!! Sinead slammed down the laptop lid. She felt like screaming.
She rushed out of her room and headed for the front door, stopped and felt her pockets for the house keys. They weren’t there.
In the kitchen, Elliot was down on his hands and knees, cleaning the oven with a sponge. White foam oozed out of it, discoloured by nasty black grease. He looked over his shoulder as she entered. Sinead ignored him.
‘Someone should have done this months ago. It’s quite revolting.’
‘I’m going for a bike ride.’ Sinead scooped up her keys from the table.
‘Perhaps you could clean the bathroom when you return?’
‘Yeah. Whatever.’ Sinead flitted out of the kitchen, went straight to the porch and left the bungalow, slamming the door shut behind her.
Sinead zipped along the streets, cycling four or five miles out through the suburbs before she turned around and came home. The bike ride helped burn off some anger until a dickhead in a Golf GTI cut her up on a corner, and Sinead nearly lost control and came off. She caught up with the driver at the lights, banging on his side panel and shouting abuse. Luckily the guy sped off again, because Sinead wasn’t sure what would have happened if he’d got out of the car.
How had things turned out so badly with her friends? Familiarity breeds contempt; maybe that’s what it was. The way they had treated Sinead on her birthday felt like contempt, and now they had deliberately not invited her to their house party. It felt like they were celebrating being shot of her. All along Sinead had been giving them the benefit of the doubt, but seeing those photos made her feel weak and stupid.
***
That evening, Sinead lay on the sofa, playing Candy Crush on her phone. The television was on in the background with the sound muted: it was some lame Saturday night game show. She’d been there a while, sulking. Not wanting to think about anything, just trying to distract her agitated mind.
She noticed Elliot standing behind the sofa, quietly observing her bored routine. How long had he been there? He leant over, picked up the remote control, pointed it at the television and turned it off.
‘I was watching that.’ Sinead shifted herself up from the sofa cushion.
‘Were you? It seemed to me you were wasting electricity.’ He stared down at her. Sinead fidgeted, pulling her jumper sleeves down over her wrists. He waited for her to speak.
‘Is there a problem?’ he said.
‘Apart from you switching off the TV?’
‘I was trying to get your attention. Do I have it?’
Sinead clenched her jaw. It would be way too easy for her to get into a row. She’d best keep quiet.
Elliot said, ‘I’m catching a flight tomorrow morning to Bangkok. I’ll be gone for a week. Perhaps you’ll be more conversational by then.’ He was looking directly at her, but Sinead averted her eyes.
He stalked off down the hall. She heard his bedroom door open and close. Sinead caught herself chewing her nails and got annoyed; it was a bad habit she was always trying to break. She thought about saying something nice to Elliot: Have a good trip. Something banal, just to keep the peace. But then why the fuck should she? ‘Perhaps you’ll be more conversational by then.’ Idiot! She aimed the remote control at the television and powered it up. Who did he think he was talking to?