Page 124 of Road Trip
His lips twitched with barely repressed amusement at her expense. “I hope to eventually prove otherwise to you. Feel up to talking yet?”
“I think so.”
“Where was this hellish place that drove you here in a fit of terror?”
“Esme Rossington’s house. Actually, her gardener’s shed.”
“Were you abducted? Held hostage?”
“Sorry. I think I’m sleep deprived. There was a mix-up at the airport hotel last night and Therese and I had to share a double bed, and she spins like a top, and we had to get up early to get to the airport…”
“Which is where you discovered your passport was missing,” he put in.
“Which was the beginning of my day from hell. I read this book as a kid, about Alexander and the Very Bad Day…”
“Hold on now,” Liam said. “I know that book quite well, but I think you meanAlexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.”
“You know that book?”
“I’ve lived that book. Remember—two older brothers? Come to think of it, I’ve lived it as an adult too. Haven’t we all?”
Somehow, it made Maeve feel better to know that Liam, who could make whiskey, and assemble a Jeep from spare parts, and run a distillery, and keep a meticulous house, had experienced epic bad days.
“First, I lost my passport, then I had to miss my flight and the only car Hertz had on the lot was a stick and I’m terrified of driving it, and then I got here, and I don’t have a hotel room because of china painters and sacred music freaks, and I can’t get my passport replaced until Friday…”
“Erm, but that doesn’t explain…”
“After I saw you at the Willow Tree, I was walking back to the inn, and I’d decided to just sleep in the car, but Esme Rossington was driving by and she pulled over and offered me a ride, and the next thing I knew she said I could stay in her handyman’s shed.”
“And this seemed like a rational choice to you? To sleep where Reggie slept? The man is a walking trash bin.”
“Did I mention the sleep deprivation? Esme claimed the shed had been ‘fixed up.’”
“Have you seen the hovel that poor old woman lives in?”
“I have. She summoned Therese and me there yesterday. But it was only going to be for tonight. And she said she’d only charge me twenty euros…”
“Charge you? She was going to charge you twenty euros to sleep in a shed? Christ Almighty, Maeve!”
“I know,” she said. “Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.”
“You should have called me,” he said.
“I thought we were… sort of fighting.”
“We werenotfighting. But do go on.”
“It was… unspeakable. Like something out of a horror movie. There were holes in the walls and spiderwebs everywhere. And the smell…” She nearly gagged at the memory.
“There was this cot with a moth-eaten blanket, and all of a sudden, I saw something scurry across the floor. It was the biggest rat ever. And Sinead pounced on it…”
She shuddered. “I think the rat screamed as loud as I did, and the dog just shook it…”
“Never mind.” Liam touched a finger to her lips. “You paint a very vivid and disturbing word picture. Have you ever considered making a career of writing?”
“It’s crossed my mind.
“I’ve never run so fast in my life,” she continued. “I wasn’t even thinking. I got in the car and drove like my hair was on fire.”
