Sushi for Beginners
Page 141
She belly-flopped, feeling betrayed, jealous, cheated on. And his knowing, taunty tone roused a horrible suspicion. ‘Do I know any of them?’
His smile was cruel. ‘Yes.’
Her stomach flopped again. ‘Who?’
‘What a question to ask a gentleman,’ he scorned.
‘You said you’d wait for me,’ she said quietly.
‘Did I? So, I lied.’
It was when Lisa was offered a job by Randolph Media’s main rivals that she began to think about her future. In her ten months at Colleen she’d brought it to where she wanted it in terms of circulation and advertising revenue. It was time to go.
Already she knew she was going to return to London – it was where she belonged and she wanted to be near her mum and dad. But when she considered her options, she realized she wasn’t quite sure she had the stomach for editing a monthly glossy any more. Clambering up the greasy pole, humiliating others and taking credit for their work no longer held the appeal it once had. Nor did the vicious rivalry between magazines. Or the savage internecine warfare which existed within the ranks of a title. Once she’d been excited, fuelled even, by such a competitive environment. But not now, and at this realization she experienced panic – had she become a weakling, a sap, an also-ran? But she didn’t feel weak. Just because there were some things she didn’t want to do any more didn’t mean she was weak, it just meant she was different.
Not too different, obviously, she acknowledged wryly: she still loved the shallowness of magazines. The clothes, the make-up, the relationship advice. So the obvious career move was to look for consultancy work.
Something weird was going on, Ashling realized. At first she hadn’t noticed, she’d just thought it was an isolated incident. Followed by another isolated incident. Then another. But when does a series of isolated incidents stop being a series of isolated incidents and start becoming a pattern?
She’d been afraid to read too much into it because she so badly wanted it to mean something. It was Jack Devine. He’d taken her out for a drink to celebrate her coming off Prozac. Then, a week later, when it became clear that she wasn’t going to go mad again, he’d taken her for another drink to celebrate that too. Then he’d taken her for a drink followed by a pizza to celebrate her starting her salsa lessons again. Then he’d taken her for a full-on dinner at Cookes to celebrate Boo moving into his first flat. But when Ashling had suggested that it would be appropriate if Boo joined them, Jack didn’t seem at all keen. ‘I’m going out for a few pints with him and some of the other lads from the station tomorrow night,’ he’d added.
And now he’d sidled up to her desk and suggested going out again.
‘What are we celebrating this time?’ she asked suspiciously.
He paused. ‘Er, that it’s Thursday?’
‘OK,’ she said. Because it was Thursday. But she was confused. Why was he being so nice to her? Did he still feel sorry for her after all the drama? But that was in the past. And any other reasons for his attention seemed preposterous.
It was Lisa who enlightened her.
‘So you and Jack have finally got it together?’ she said as airily as she could manage. She still wasn’t entirely zen about being overlooked, it just wasn’t her way and probably never would be.
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘You and Jack. You like him, don’t you?’ she teased. ‘As in like him.’
The hot high colour that spilled across Ashling’s face was her answer.
‘And he likes you,’ Lisa pointed out.
‘No, he doesn’t.’
‘Yes, he does.’
‘No, he doesn’t.’
‘Oh, don’t be so naïve, Ashling,’ Lisa snapped.
Ashling looked at her in alarm, then after a period of stillness, she said faintly, ‘OK, I won’t.’
That evening in the restaurant, Ashling attemped to address the situation. She so didn’t want to, but she suspected she had to. To give her courage, she lit a cigarette which Jack watched her smoke as if she was doing something remarkable.
Stop looking at me like that. I can’t think straight.
‘Jack, can I ask you something? We’re out, having our dinner. Is this a…’ She froze. Maybe she shouldn’t say it, what if she was wrong?
‘Is this a… ?’ he prompted, his expression keen to oblige.
She exhaled heavily. Fuck it, might as well. ‘Is this a date?’
He considered her intently. ‘Do you want it to be?’
She pretended to give it some thought. ‘Yes.’
‘Then it’s a date.’
They both let their eyes wander around the restaurant. ‘D’you want to go on another one?’ Jack asked over-casually.
‘Yes.’
‘Saturday night?’
Yikes. First outing not on a week day. New ground being broken. ‘Yes.’
Once again their gazes set off roaming around the room, looking at anything except each other.
Ashling heard her voice once more. ‘Jack, can I ask why you want to go on a… you know… with me?’
She raised her eyes to him at the same moment that his gaze returned to her, and their looks collided with force. Her breath left her and excitement leapt, like tiny fishes nibbling beneath her skin. ‘Because, Ashling,’ Jack said softly, ‘you’re interfering with my plans for world domination.’
But what did that mean?
‘I can think of nothing else apart from you,’ he said. He sounded quite matter-of-fact. ‘It’s affecting everything.’
Her head filled up, up, up with air and she couldn’t speak. Couldn’t locate a single suitable syllable. She’d suspected he liked her, but now that he’d said it…
‘Say something,’ he urged anxiously.
She mumbled, ‘How long has this been going on?’ I sound like Dr McDevitt.
‘Ages,’ he sighed. ‘Since the night of the launch.’
‘That long?’
‘Yes.’ Another sigh.
‘But that’s months!’
‘Six of them.’
‘All that time…’ She was raking over the past half-year, her version of her life falling into an entirely different arrangement. Did he mean it? Well, he’d said it, but she was afraid to believe him. Yet.
His smile was cruel. ‘Yes.’
Her stomach flopped again. ‘Who?’
‘What a question to ask a gentleman,’ he scorned.
‘You said you’d wait for me,’ she said quietly.
‘Did I? So, I lied.’
It was when Lisa was offered a job by Randolph Media’s main rivals that she began to think about her future. In her ten months at Colleen she’d brought it to where she wanted it in terms of circulation and advertising revenue. It was time to go.
Already she knew she was going to return to London – it was where she belonged and she wanted to be near her mum and dad. But when she considered her options, she realized she wasn’t quite sure she had the stomach for editing a monthly glossy any more. Clambering up the greasy pole, humiliating others and taking credit for their work no longer held the appeal it once had. Nor did the vicious rivalry between magazines. Or the savage internecine warfare which existed within the ranks of a title. Once she’d been excited, fuelled even, by such a competitive environment. But not now, and at this realization she experienced panic – had she become a weakling, a sap, an also-ran? But she didn’t feel weak. Just because there were some things she didn’t want to do any more didn’t mean she was weak, it just meant she was different.
Not too different, obviously, she acknowledged wryly: she still loved the shallowness of magazines. The clothes, the make-up, the relationship advice. So the obvious career move was to look for consultancy work.
Something weird was going on, Ashling realized. At first she hadn’t noticed, she’d just thought it was an isolated incident. Followed by another isolated incident. Then another. But when does a series of isolated incidents stop being a series of isolated incidents and start becoming a pattern?
She’d been afraid to read too much into it because she so badly wanted it to mean something. It was Jack Devine. He’d taken her out for a drink to celebrate her coming off Prozac. Then, a week later, when it became clear that she wasn’t going to go mad again, he’d taken her for another drink to celebrate that too. Then he’d taken her for a drink followed by a pizza to celebrate her starting her salsa lessons again. Then he’d taken her for a full-on dinner at Cookes to celebrate Boo moving into his first flat. But when Ashling had suggested that it would be appropriate if Boo joined them, Jack didn’t seem at all keen. ‘I’m going out for a few pints with him and some of the other lads from the station tomorrow night,’ he’d added.
And now he’d sidled up to her desk and suggested going out again.
‘What are we celebrating this time?’ she asked suspiciously.
He paused. ‘Er, that it’s Thursday?’
‘OK,’ she said. Because it was Thursday. But she was confused. Why was he being so nice to her? Did he still feel sorry for her after all the drama? But that was in the past. And any other reasons for his attention seemed preposterous.
It was Lisa who enlightened her.
‘So you and Jack have finally got it together?’ she said as airily as she could manage. She still wasn’t entirely zen about being overlooked, it just wasn’t her way and probably never would be.
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘You and Jack. You like him, don’t you?’ she teased. ‘As in like him.’
The hot high colour that spilled across Ashling’s face was her answer.
‘And he likes you,’ Lisa pointed out.
‘No, he doesn’t.’
‘Yes, he does.’
‘No, he doesn’t.’
‘Oh, don’t be so naïve, Ashling,’ Lisa snapped.
Ashling looked at her in alarm, then after a period of stillness, she said faintly, ‘OK, I won’t.’
That evening in the restaurant, Ashling attemped to address the situation. She so didn’t want to, but she suspected she had to. To give her courage, she lit a cigarette which Jack watched her smoke as if she was doing something remarkable.
Stop looking at me like that. I can’t think straight.
‘Jack, can I ask you something? We’re out, having our dinner. Is this a…’ She froze. Maybe she shouldn’t say it, what if she was wrong?
‘Is this a… ?’ he prompted, his expression keen to oblige.
She exhaled heavily. Fuck it, might as well. ‘Is this a date?’
He considered her intently. ‘Do you want it to be?’
She pretended to give it some thought. ‘Yes.’
‘Then it’s a date.’
They both let their eyes wander around the restaurant. ‘D’you want to go on another one?’ Jack asked over-casually.
‘Yes.’
‘Saturday night?’
Yikes. First outing not on a week day. New ground being broken. ‘Yes.’
Once again their gazes set off roaming around the room, looking at anything except each other.
Ashling heard her voice once more. ‘Jack, can I ask why you want to go on a… you know… with me?’
She raised her eyes to him at the same moment that his gaze returned to her, and their looks collided with force. Her breath left her and excitement leapt, like tiny fishes nibbling beneath her skin. ‘Because, Ashling,’ Jack said softly, ‘you’re interfering with my plans for world domination.’
But what did that mean?
‘I can think of nothing else apart from you,’ he said. He sounded quite matter-of-fact. ‘It’s affecting everything.’
Her head filled up, up, up with air and she couldn’t speak. Couldn’t locate a single suitable syllable. She’d suspected he liked her, but now that he’d said it…
‘Say something,’ he urged anxiously.
She mumbled, ‘How long has this been going on?’ I sound like Dr McDevitt.
‘Ages,’ he sighed. ‘Since the night of the launch.’
‘That long?’
‘Yes.’ Another sigh.
‘But that’s months!’
‘Six of them.’
‘All that time…’ She was raking over the past half-year, her version of her life falling into an entirely different arrangement. Did he mean it? Well, he’d said it, but she was afraid to believe him. Yet.
