ABBY
FOUR MONTHS LATER
‘Karen, I swear to God if she opens the door, I’m not listening to one word from her wrinkly mouth. I’ll give her one hundred and fifty euro in order for her not to predict my future.’
We’d meddled enough the first time. Though it had worked out perfectly in the end, there was untold heartache along the way. No way am I going through that again. She had been spot on about everything. But it didn’t make it right.
‘Aren’t you even curious?’ Karen indicates off the motorway.
‘No. Not one single iota. In fact, if Callum finds out you dragged me out here again, he’ll cheerfully throw you into the Liffey.’ I sigh deeply and look out the window in disbelief that she managed to drag me out here for the second time this year.
‘It’s supposed to be a bit of fun,’ Karen chimes overly cheerily.
‘Yeah, and look where that got us the last time.’
‘She told me something significant would happen if I visited her again in six months.’ Karen reminds me of the only reason that I agreed to accompany her again.
‘The only thing of significance is that you’re about to hand over another hundred and fifty euro,’ I say with a resigned sigh.
I turn on the radio. Sally No Soul’s slot has been taken over by Bobbie’s 80’s Bangers and so far seems to be doing relatively well. Following Sally’s interview with M.O.D.E.R.N. she was offered a permanent position on a radio station in the Big Apple. Recent updates on her social media led me to believe she may even have a new man in tow. I’m delighted for her. I really am. I wouldn’t swap with her for all the world.
We fall silent for the final part of the journey, both immersed in our own thoughts. It has been a crazy few months. Karen officially came out. Nobody batted an eyelid. Her parents were super supportive, simply relieved that she hadn’t gone through with the wedding. Though she is yet to meet the love of her life, the one that Esmerelda apparently predicted would materialise this month. Time is running out, but I don’t doubt the prediction will materialise. The old woman has been one hundred per cent accurate about everything else, which is precisely why there’s no way I’m going in again. Ignorance is bliss. I can’t spend any more of my life waiting on the materialisation of a stranger’s predictions. I’m too busy living every day.
Instinctively, I place a hand over my tiny bump. Three weeks away from the twelve-week mark, I made Callum swear he wouldn’t tell a soul until we have our scan. The excitement is bursting from both of us, an exciting new chapter awaits.
We arrive at the crumbling cottage. Apprehension tightens in my chest. I’m not comfortable being here. The sight of the desolate hanging baskets and dead flowers proves too much. I look away.
‘I’ll wait here,’ I insist.
Esmerelda hadn’t predicted anything bad for me, but the last few months would have been so much less stressful if I hadn’t had the niggling expectancy of her prophecies. It isn’t something I’ll ever subject myself to again.
‘Suit yourself.’ Karen breezes out of the car and slams the door shut before the wind takes it from its rusty hinges. She’s replaced the skirts for combats or jeans, no longer feeling obliged to put on a show. The headbands remain though. That’s her quirky trademark, regardless of her sexuality.
Curiosity forces me to watch her navigate the cobbled path. She doesn’t have an appointment. Esmerelda has been mysteriously uncontactable this time round, which only fuelled Karen’s insistency on seeing her.
She knocks firmly, the wind carrying any sound to the depths of the Wicklow mountains behind. Several minutes pass with no response. I open the car door cautiously.
‘Karen. She’s not here,’ I state the obvious, shouting against the wintery elements.
Disappointment forms on every feature of Karen’s heart-shaped face. Her black bob blows wildly as she retreats back down the path, shoulders sagging in reluctant defeat. She slumps into the driver’s seat disheartened. I wince as she bangs the door again. One day, it’ll fall off. She inserts the key into the ignition and starts the engine. Out of nowhere another car pulls in behind us, it’s full-beam piercing startlingly through the twilight.
A woman rushes out, adjusting her denim jacket and patting her cropped hair. We linger, curious as to who else would be this far out, in the arse end of nowhere. The woman approaches, tapping on the driver’s side, she peers through the window with a smile. Karen gets out of the car to speak to her.
‘Are you here for the viewing?’ The woman sticks out a hand and introduces herself as Fran, the agent charged with selling the cottage.
Karen’s visibly taken aback as the woman explains Esmerelda’s family are looking for a quick sale following the untimely death of their mother.
Darting eye contact and multiple coy bob fluffing from Karen takes me back to the playground. Karen kicks a stone sheepishly, and though I cannot hear the exact words that are exchanged, I can hear the animated edge in both women’s voices.
Karen reaches up and readjusts her headband, angling her head sideways in some sort of question. The woman reaches into her pocket and hands over a business card. Karen takes it, clutching it as though it’s one of Willie Wonka’s precious Golden Tickets. As she reluctantly opens the driver’s door, I hear her promise to call the agent later.
With a resigned smile, Esmerelda’s final prediction presents in the form of the parting human gift before us. I sigh in sweet relief, hopeful that this may be the start of Karen’s well-deserved happily ever after. I place my hand over the tiny human inside my stomach and smile.
THE END
BOOK 2- LOVE & OTHER GAMES….
Successful beauty business queen Emma Harvey is not quite as astute when it comes to relationships. Ghosted, following an epic one night stand with a notorious Irish rugby hooker, she vows no more players, concentrating instead on securing the perfect beachfront property for her new luxury spa.
Irish rugby hooker Eddie Harrington is the team joker. Except the tragic events of the past year weren't funny at all. Determined to set things right, Eddie scours Dublin for the perfect beachfront property to ease his brother's less than idyllic return from the State's.
Crossed wires at a mutual friend's Croatian wedding result in Emma and Eddie reluctantly agreeing to share the honeymoon suite for a week. Their exotic reunion results in a seductive game highlighting what they almost had and could potentially have again. Unless the two happen to want the same beachfront property more than they want each other.
Will Emma stick to her game plan and put business before pleasure?
Or will Eddie's tactics win out?
TURN OVER FOR THE FIRST TWO CHAPTERS…
