Where Rainbows End (28 page)

Rosie:

Ruby that’s terrific news. How does Gary feel about all this?

Ruby:

Oh it’s not important; he’ll soon come around to my way of thinking.

Rosie:

What will Miss Behave say when she finds out she has been replaced?

Ruby:

I know, I was worried about that; you know how jealous she gets when I even look at other men.

Rosie:

I’m glad that you and Gary have found something you can do together. I think it’s important, no matter how short-lived it may be.

Ruby:

Oh don’t be fooled by Gary’s lack of enthusiasm, this wonderful moment in my life will not be short-lived. I’m bringing Gary all the way with me to the World Salsa Dancing Championships in Miami.

You know you need to look beyond the four walls of St. Patrick’s School Hall.
See
the possibilities,
smell
the success in the air,
taste
the rewards.

Rosie:

Have you been watching Oprah again?

Ruby:

Yeah that “Remembering your spirit” part gets to me every time.

Maybe Gary and I can be on it someday talking about how we came from nothing to salsa dancing millionaires just by
believing.

Rosie:

Oh don’t talk to me about remembering my spirit, all I can think of is the bottle of wine I knocked back last night.

Ruby:

Not that kind of spirit you fool . . . Any word on the job front?

Rosie:

Well yes actually, I received a job offer in the post yesterday.

Ruby:

Terrific! It’s about time. Is it the one you wanted or the one you didn’t want?

248

Cecelia Ahern

Rosie:

You’ve known me all these years and you even had to
ask
that question?

Ruby:

Oh silly me, it’s the one you didn’t want.
Of course
.

Rosie: Well actually it was neither of the above, it’s the one I really, really, really didn’t want and would only accept it if it was the last job in Dublin, if I was being thrown out of Mum and Dad’s house on my bum, and if Katie and I were so desperate for food we had to lick stamps.

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Dunne,

Hyland & Moore Auctioneers received your request and we would be more than pleased to act on your behalf for the sale of your home. Thank you for choosing Hyland & Moore to represent you.

Yours sincerely,

Thomas Hyland

You have received an instant message from: ROSIE

Rosie:

Hi it’s me.

Rosie:

Helloooo?

Rosie:

I know you’re there. I can see that you’ve logged online.

Alex:

Who is this?!

Rosie:

Oh ha ha you’re so funny, what is this? Let’s annoy Rosie day?!

Tough luck I am spilling the beans and sharing the sob story of my miserable little life with you whether you like it or not. OK here I go.

I was offered a job. But I turned it down because I didn’t think I was desperate enough to have to accept it. It turns out I was wrong.

Suddenly Mum and Dad tell me that they’re putting the house on the market the
very next day
and before my brain has a chance to register what they’re saying, people start trampling in and out of the house, nosying through my bedroom, complaining about the interiors, laughing at the wallpaper, turning their nose up at the carpets, talking about which walls they’d knock down, which wardrobes love, rosie

249

they’d rip out, and which of my cuddly childhood teddies they would like to burn in a bonfire in the back garden while they danced around it hollering, with strips of animal blood on their faces. (OK so they didn’t say
that
.) So then a couple put in an offer of full asking price, can you believe, after only seeing it once! Mum and Dad thought about it for approximately twenty seconds and then said yes!

Alex:

No!

Rosie:

Yes! Apparently the woman is eight months pregnant and they’re living in a really small flat and they need to move house really quickly before the baby is born and has to bathe in the sink and play on the balcony.

Alex:

No!

Rosie:

Yes! Mum and Dad were really apologetic and everything but I don’t blame them because it’s their life after all and frankly they should have had to stop worrying about me the minute I moved out.

So all within a matter of days they’ve sold the house, everything has been boxed up, they bought a house for practically next to nothing in Connemara. The furniture is being auctioned off tomorrow (apart from the pieces I managed to grab), the rest of the stuff is being delivered to the house tomorrow (which is hours away). Mum and Dad have already bought tickets to go on a cruise for two months and they’re leaving on Monday.

Alex:

No!

Rosie:

Yes! This means that I had to call back the people who offered me the job that I already turned down not too politely I might add, I had to apologize profusely and try to convince them that I really wanted the job after all. They were really pissed off and said they didn’t need me until August. So today Katie spent the day with Brian while I went emergency house hunting.

Alex:

No!

Rosie:

Yes! Everywhere that was in any way affordable was absolutely disgusting. The apartments were still either too expensive, too small, or too far from my job and Katie’s school. So Mum and Dad were dis-250

Cecelia Ahern

cussing my personal problems (as they generally do) with the young sickeningly happy couple who are about to embark on blissful family life while butchering my childhood home. And because Mum and Dad had been so speedy and understanding about the whole

“moving out in a few days” scenario they suggested that I move
into
the flat they just moved
out
of and had decided to rent out. And they also said they would lower the rent for me.

Alex:

No!

Rosie:

Yes! But the only thing is that they have already rented the place out for two weeks to a group of male students so I have to wait until they move out. By which time it will no doubt be disgustingly smelly and dirty.

Alex:

No!

Rosie:

Yes! So who do I stay with while I wait, I hear you ask? Well let’s see, Mum and Dad have moved to Connemara as you now know.

Kev lives in the staff quarters of the Two Lakes Hotel in Kilkenny, Steph lives in France, Ruby only has two bedrooms and no space for me and Katie, and you’re in Boston which isn’t convenient commuting for me. So who is the only other human being in Dublin that I know right now? (And don’t even think of what’s-his-name.) None other than Brian the Whine.

Alex:

No!

Rosie:

Yes! I am afraid so. I am e-mailing you from the storeroom of Brian the Whine’s rented flat where I have to stay for two weeks. How much lower can I go? And that’s not even my worst news. I haven’t even told you who my new boss is.

None other than Ms. Big Nose Smelly Breath Casey.

Alex:

No!

Rosie:

Yes! I am now secretary to the woman we most hated while growing up, the woman who made my daughter’s life hell while in school, and who is now principal of St. Patrick’s Primary School and my boss. I have momentarily rambled off the road of reason to find a bush to pee behind but I will soon find my way back again. If it’s love, rosie

251

the last thing I do. Why on earth Ms. Big Nose Smelly Breath Casey even hired me is completely beyond me but she has and until I find another job in a hotel I won’t complain or ask questions. Perhaps she just wants to make my life a misery well into my adult life and until I’m an elderly woman. And speaking of the elderly, she was old when I was
five years old
for Christ sake, and she’s still old. The woman has nine lives.

So what do you think of all that? Any messages you want me to pass on to your favorite teacher?

Rosie:

Hello, Alex?

Rosie:

Alex?

Alex:

Em . . . sorry Alex isn’t actually online.

Rosie:

Oh ha ha. Well then how is his name on my screen and I am typing to him?

Alex:

Oh you’re not. I logged on using his home computer. I guess his name automatically comes up on your system. I’ve never come across this little system, it’s fun. Sorry I didn’t know you were looking for him.

Rosie:

What?? You think I just rant about my private life to all strangers on the computer??? Who is this?

Alex:

Bethany.

Rosie:

Bethany?

Alex:

Bethany Williams? Remember me?

Rosie:

What the hell are you doing on Alex’s home computer?!

Alex:

Oh I’m sorry it all makes sense now. Alex didn’t tell you, did he? I thought you two told each other everything. I’ll be sure to pass on all your little messages to him though, they were very amusing. Good luck with the new job Rosie; I’ll let Alex explain this one to you.

By the way, Alex is working with my father now, he’s making good money. Doing very well for himself. Perhaps if you’re that stuck for money he could give you a loan.

Rosie has logged off

Welcome to the Relieved Divorced Dubliners internet chat room
There are currently five people chatting
Buttercup has joined the room

Divorced_1:

Screw him, screw’m, screw’m, screw’m!

Buttercup:

Hello everyone.

Wildflower:

Wahooooo! You tell her Divorced_1!

UnsureOne:

I know Divorced_1 but that’s the problem now isn’t it? I can’t

“screw him” anymore, he’s gone. I should never have let him leave; oh it’s all my fault.

Buttercup:

Em . . . hello everyone, is this working, can you all read what I’m writing?

Divorced_1:

Oh shut up UnsureOne, I’m sick of listening to you moaning night after night. How is it your fault? Did you drag him into the car and drive him to the hotel room? Did you pull his pants down around his ankles and push him on top of her on the bed?

UnsureOne:

Oh please stop Divorced_1! Stop! Stop! Stop! No I didn’t!

LonelyLady:

Oh leave her alone, there’s no need to be so graphic.

Divorced_1:

Look I’m only trying to help. If you didn’t do all those things then how on earth is it your fault?

love, rosie

253

Buttercup:

Oh I’m not sure this is working, hello? Hello? Hello? Stupid bloody computer. Can anyone answer me?

UnsureOne:

Well you know, maybe I inadvertently put him under pressure to do better at his job. You know how things are so expensive these days and the kids always want more, more, more. Well they were going back to school and the uniforms and books are always so expensive and I kept telling him we needed more money because it was tight and I’m not sure but maybe it
was
my fault, you know?

LonelyLady:

Oh please Unsure . . .

Wildflower:

Oh I have heard quite enough for one night . . .

Divorced_1:

Look just forget about him. He’s a bastard and that’s all there is to it. Screw’m.

Buttercup:

Well not that anyone cares, but there was only one kind of job your husband was thinking of that night and it didn’t involve a day at the office.

Wildflower:

Wahoooo! Welcome Buttercup!

Divorced_1:

You’re right Buttercup, screw’m.

UnsureOne:

Are you sure Buttercup?

LonelyLady:

I tend to agree with the others UnsureOne. Welcome Buttercup, you want to chat?

Wildflower:

Oh please LonelyLady, every time you ask one of our visitors if they want to chat you scare them away. You sound like you want to talk dirty or something.

LonelyLady:

Oh I’m sorry, you know I don’t mean to. I just have this horrible habit of driving everyone away.

Buttercup:

Why, are you in the taxi business?

Wildflower:

HA. I like you Buttercup, you can stay. What are your stats?

Buttercup:

My what?

Divorced_1:

Oh everyone look, a chat room virgin.

Wildflower:

Your stats Cupcake—age, sex, that sort of thing.

Buttercup:

Oh well I’m 32, I’m female, I have a 13-year-old daughter, and I’m happily divorced.

Wildflower:

Wahoooo!

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Cecelia Ahern

Divorced_1:

Congratulations Cupcake, screw’m that’s what I say.

UnsureOne:

Buttercup, whose fault was the marriage breakup. Yours or his?

Wildflower:

Oh ignore her Buttercup, she’s riding the “blame” wave.

Buttercup:

That’s OK, I don’t mind. It was one hundred per cent
his
fault.

Divorced_1:

Quel Surprise.

LonelyLady:

Well at least you have a daughter, Buttercup, and you weren’t left all alone. My husband, well my ex-husband, left me before we even had a chance to start a family. I don’t think it would have been so hard if we had children, then at least I wouldn’t feel so—

Divorced_1:

Alone yeah, yeah. Well trust me it’s harder
with
kids.

Unfortunately my rugrats are the spit of my husband and when I look at them I just want to strangle the little bastards.

UnsureOne:

Gosh well I think
that’s
a little psychotic.

Divorced_1:

Do your kids look like your ex, UnsureOne?

UnsureOne:

Well yes and no. Some people say they do and others say they don’t. I’m not too sure really . . .

Divorced_1:

Well unless they look like clones of your husband, save the lecture until you’re
sure
of what you’re talking about. Does your kid look like your ex, Buttercup?

Buttercup:

Well thankfully she’s not his so, no, she doesn’t.

LonelyLady:

My goodness, did he know?

Buttercup: