Page 35 of Plot Twist

‘Sounds about right.’ I rolled my eyes. ‘She’s such a bitch. I’ve not heard a peep from her. She never replied to my email.’

‘We’re all having to stay for hours after class time. She’s out of control! Listen, your phone’s cracking up. Can you hear me? Will I pop round to your flat?’

‘No, don’t come around. I’m not in the flat, Joanna. I’m. . . I’m in Ireland.’

I strolled along the path at the side of the house, glancing up at the mountains and around at the fields of green that danced all around me.

‘What the fuck are you doing there?’ she asked.

‘Visiting a friend.’

‘Oh. Well, I was thinking about speaking to the union. She can’t make us do all these extra hours unpaid.’

My whole body felt heavy as she kept talking about work.

‘I’m sorry, I have to go, Joanna. Good luck on the whole taking the bitch down thing. I’m totally behind you. I need to go though, I have a call coming through.’

I hung up before she had the chance to protest.

16

The scent of aftershave smacked me in the nostrils as I pushed open the front door at Bellinder Cottage the next evening. I’d gone for a walk to clear my head and give Riley some peace to write, while Ivy was at Bridget and Ellie’s house for their usual Thursday sleepover. I thought about my own ideas for character development in my head as I pounded my feet on the pavements, trying to block out all I’d left behind at home.

Riley was singing at the top of his lungs in the bathroom, with a navy-blue shirt hung on the outside of the door. He was getting ready to go out. And, judging by the smell of aftershave and freshly ironed shirt, he was going ‘out out’.

The pangs of jealousy that threatened at the yoga class came tumbling back as I pictured him all dressed for a big date. He was probably taking Eimear out for a fancy meal somewhere. I sighed.

Lucky me, I had the evening all to myself by the looks of it.

The bathroom door flew open as I passed it, whacking me on the shoulder.

‘Shit!’ Riley called. ‘Sorry, Becca, I didn’t know you were in.’

He stood in front of the bathroom mirror, again wearing only a towel, with a clean-shaven face. He’d missed a bit of shaving foam on his neck. I didn’t tell him.

‘It’s fine, I’ve got another shoulder,’ I called as I sauntered into my own room, like I didn’t care where he was going.

He knocked on my door five minutes later, just as I’d scraped my hair back and pulled on my comfiest trousers and hooded jumper.

‘Come in,’ I called.

And there he was, this time wearing the blue shirt that had been hanging on the door, the one that was now showing off his tanned muscular arms, ready for his big date. I was used to seeing him in various Gaelic football tops, shorts and hoodies, which always looked good on him. But this was a whole new level. I gulped back the disappointment.

I wondered how he would break the news about his big date with Eimear. He would probably just casually mention that he was going out with her, as though it wasn’t even a thing. No big deal. Not that it was a thing. I was only his house guest, after all. But still.

‘Oh,’ he said, looking me up and down. ‘I didn’t think you’d change so quickly.’

‘Sorry, monsieur, were you expecting me to wear a glittering ball gown for my solo evening at Bellinder Cottage?’ I teased, sitting on the side of the bench. ‘I take it you’re off out for the night?’

‘Solo? Don’t you want to come out with me?’ He frowned. ‘You said the other day you’d like to get out and see a bit more.’

‘And you said I should,’ I remembered. ‘But we didn’t agree anything. You want me to. . . tag along tonight?’

‘I saidweshould. Did I forget to suggest Thursday night? Shit. I did in my head.’

My heart began beating a little faster. He wasn’t abandoning me for a hot date, he was inviting me to come with him.

‘Erm, well, yes, I’d love to go out. Where are we going? Who are we meeting?’