Better Together (7 page)

‘Oh dear. I’ll make you some green tea. That’ll fix you.’ Talia was a great believer in its therapeutic qualities, especially for rehydrating hung-over flatmates. ‘I’ve a bit of a confession to make,’ she said as she handed Sheridan the tea and sat down beside her. Sheridan could hear a certain nervousness in her friend’s voice, and she looked at her curiously from her bloodshot eyes.

‘Oh?’

‘Remember the interview I did about a month ago?’

Sheridan rubbed her temple. Talia’s job involved her interviewing lots of people, and there was no way she could remember all of them.

‘For the fashion mag in Belfast.
They
interviewed
me
. For the job.’

‘Oh, of course. You said you weren’t all that interested.’ Sheridan’s eyes widened. ‘Has what happened changed your mind? Are you going to call them?’

‘The thing is, I got a phone call from them an hour ago.’

‘And?’

‘They’ve offered me the job.’

‘Wow.’ Sheridan put the mug down. She was stunned by Talia’s news and, she realised, a little jealous too. Not only had her friend been kept on by the
City Scope
, but she also had the offer of another job. That didn’t seem fair somehow. ‘Are you going to accept?’ she asked.

‘I have to, don’t I?’ replied Talia. ‘Even with Paudie O’Malley’s investment, I’m not sure about the future of the
Scope
. Besides, with all that’s happened, it’s not the same paper any more. I’m not sure I want to keep working there, and the salary at the magazine is better than I expected.’

‘Even though you’ll have to move to Belfast? Even though you said you didn’t want to? Won’t you be bored out of your head there?’

‘Well, it’s not Dublin, but there’s a good vibe about the place these days. Besides, things have changed, I have to go where the work is.’

‘I guess so,’ said Sheridan.

‘It might be good for me,’ added Talia. ‘I’m in my comfort zone right now. It’s not a bad idea to step out of it from time to time.’

Pat and Alice were big into getting out of comfort zones. Stretch yourself, they used to say to their children. Do things you don’t like doing. Try harder. That was what Sheridan was going to have to do now.

‘When do you start?’

‘Next month,’ said Talia. ‘But I’ve loads of holidays to take, so I’ll finish up at the
Scope
next week.’

‘I’m delighted for you,’ said Sheridan. On one level she was. On another, she was gutted.

‘My plan is to head off for a week somewhere warm, then get to Belfast to find a place to live and all that sort of stuff before I start at the mag. Fancy coming to the Canaries? They’ll be warm enough even at this time of year.’

‘Tempting,’ admitted Sheridan, ‘but my finances . . .’

‘You’ll have your redundancy money,’ Talia reminded her.

‘Yes, but . . .’

‘But what?’

‘I’m going to have to do some flat-hunting. I can’t afford to keep this place without you, it’s too expensive. I don’t have much savings . . .’

‘Would you stop worrying,’ said Talia. ‘You’ll get something else, no problem.’

‘It might take a bit of time,’ Sheridan said.

‘You deserve a break after what’s happened. Treat yourself.’

‘I’ve never been unemployed and on the scrapheap before,’ said Sheridan. ‘It makes you worried.’

‘You’re not on the scrapheap,’ Talia assured her. ‘And I have an idea about the flat.’

‘You do?’

‘Why don’t you ask Griff to move in with you?’

Sheridan took a sip of her tea and said nothing.

‘It must have crossed your mind at some point over the past few months,’ said Talia. ‘In fact I’m surprised you haven’t dumped me for him already.’

‘I’ve thought about it,’ conceded Sheridan. ‘But I like sharing with you. It’s the best of both worlds. Sharing with Griff – that’s a whole different ball game. It’s making a bit of a statement, isn’t it?’

‘I thought you loved him!’

‘Of course I love him.’ Sheridan smiled and closed her eyes. ‘He’s one in a million in so many ways.’

‘So what’s holding you back?’

‘Well . . . I kind of feel he should be the one asking me to move in with him. I know that sounds sort of girlie and unfeminist of me, but still – me asking him seems somewhat desperate, don’t you think? As though I want to tie him down. Get married, even . . .’ Her voice trailed off.

‘Have you talked about it?’

‘Only in a vague sort of way. To be honest, I wasn’t looking for someone to marry when I met him. I wanted to have my big journalistic career first.’ She grimaced. ‘Not that it’s going entirely to plan now. All the same, I wanted to make a name for myself before I got married.’

‘Your byline is on every second sports piece in the
Scope
—’

‘
Was
on every second piece,’ Sheridan corrected her.

‘You did make a name for yourself.’

‘Yeah, but I wanted to land a big interview. With someone controversial. I wanted to make people proud of me.’

‘People? Like who?’

Sheridan shrugged. ‘Well . . . everyone. My mum and dad, I suppose.’

‘I’m sure they’re proud of you already! How many people
get to read their daughter’s analysis of an Ireland match in the most influential sports section there is?’

‘I know, I know. It’s just . . .’

‘What?’

‘They aren’t proud of me in the same way they are of Matt and Con,’ she confessed. ‘I know my mam reads all my stuff, but pieces in the paper aren’t as good as trophies in the cabinet.’

‘You’re joking, aren’t you?’

‘Why would I be joking?’

‘Because you’re a very successful journo in a male-dominated area. So quit with the “I’m not a winner” stuff. That’s ridiculous.’

‘To you, maybe. But winning is everything to my parents. While I was at the
Scope
, I felt as though I had some credibility in their eyes. I reckoned that if I could get a really important interview they’d be so impressed they’d forget I was the one who always came last in the races at home.’

‘You need therapy if you’re thinking like that,’ said Talia.

‘If you’d grown up in my household you’d need therapy too.’

‘Forget your parents and your muscle-bound brothers for a minute and think about yourself. You’ve done well. You’ve had a successful career and you can continue to have a successful career. You have a brilliant boyfriend who’ll probably jump at the idea of moving in with you. So go for it. Ask him.’

‘What if he says no?’

‘He won’t say no,’ Talia told her. ‘You’ll only barely have the question out of your mouth when he’ll be saying yes.’

Sheridan was a little nervous about asking Griff to move in with her, but deep down she was fairly confident that her boyfriend would be excited by the idea. He stayed over often enough (her stays in his house were less frequent because of the fact that his two sisters shared it with him – she didn’t feel comfortable sleeping with him knowing that they were the other side of the wall), he liked lounging on the sofa in front of the TV with her, sometimes commenting that they were becoming a boring couple. But he always said that with a laugh.

Griff was different to any of her previous boyfriends because he didn’t treat her like a friend who just happened to be a girl. When she was with him she felt like a proper girlfriend. Someone who was cherished and looked after. Griff was romantic. He complimented her on her body (he liked curves, he said); he took her to rom-com movies as well as thrillers (she enjoyed thrillers but it was nice not to have explosions in every film she saw) and he generally made her feel wanted and special. Talia thought he was a gem of a boyfriend and that his understanding of women came from the fact that he’d been raised in an all-female household. Sheridan agreed, though on the one occasion when she’d been with Griff’s entire family she’d felt overwhelmed by the femininity of it all.

It was ironic, she sometimes thought, that her first meeting with her perfect boyfriend had, in fact, been because of sport. She’d been conducting a vox pop outside the Aviva Stadium one day and she’d collared him to talk about the candidates being touted for the role of manager of the rugby team. Griff had come up with the name of a little-known Australian coach, to which Sheridan had responded that the coach was
linked to a move to Fiji and so it was probably unlikely. Griff had stared at her in amazement, confessed that he’d brought up the name just to confuse her, and apologised for being a sexist pig for assuming that she knew nothing about the game. Then he’d asked her out.

Sheridan had surprised herself by accepting. She’d thought he was a bit of a sexist pig too. She was happy to realise that she was wrong, and very happy to have finally found someone she really cared for. And someone who seemed to care for her just as much too.

I’ll ask him tonight, she said to herself, as she lay on her bed mulling over Talia’s news. Her friend had gone out for a while, knowing that Sheridan needed some solitude to recover from her hangover. It’ll be nice living with him. And maybe . . . who knows, maybe we’ll think about the whole marriage thing. It wasn’t something that had ever bothered Sheridan before. But she couldn’t help thinking about it now.

After half an hour she got up from the bed and went back into the empty living room. She knew that she’d have to ring her parents and tell them about her redundancy soon. But she wanted to feel a bit better before she did. At the same time, she also had to call them before Talia got back, because it wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have in front of her friend.

But she didn’t have time to wait, because within five minutes her mobile rang and she recognised Alice’s number. She took a deep breath before answering.

‘Hi,’ she said.

‘What’s all this about jobs going at the
City Scope
?’
demanded Alice. ‘It was on the news today. Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘I was busy,’ said Sheridan.

‘Well that’s a good sign.’ There was relief in Alice’s voice. ‘I thought maybe yours might have been one of the ones to go.’

‘Um . . .’ Sheridan gripped her phone tightly, ‘the sports department has lost two of us.’

‘Two of you? Don’t tell me you’re one of them!’

‘Afraid so.’ Sheridan kept her voice as light as she possibly could. ‘But it’s not all bad news. I get a redundancy package and hopefully I’ll find something else soon, so I could end up doing quite well out of it in the end.’

‘You’ve. Lost. Your. Job.’ Alice said each word distinctly. ‘How can that be a good thing?’

‘I didn’t say it was. I just said that I could end up doing OK.’

‘It was a great job,’ said Alice. ‘You wrote good stories. What did you do to make them fire you?’

‘I wasn’t fired,’ Sheridan reminded her. ‘It was a redundancy issue. And I didn’t do anything. It’s all about costs.’

‘You must have fluffed something,’ said Alice.

‘I bloody didn’t!’ Sheridan was getting annoyed. ‘Redundancy happens. They don’t always have to have a reason to choose you.’

‘No. I know.’ Alice’s voice suddenly softened. ‘I’m sorry, Sheridan. I was just angry on your behalf. I remember when Con was dropped from the team and there was no reason for it other than the manager wanted to try a different formation. They brought him back, of course, it was a disaster without him.’

‘I remember.’ There had been utter consternation in the Gray house that day. Nobody could believe that the manager had left Con off the team sheet. He was one of the star players. Afterwards he’d confided in Sheridan that he’d had a row with the manager and that was why. He’d never told Alice that. She didn’t believe in players arguing with managers.

‘Well, I’m sure you’re right and they’ll come crawling back looking for you,’ said Alice. ‘In the meantime, though, would you like to come to Kerry for a few days?’

‘I was thinking of going on holiday with Talia.’

‘I’m not sure you should be going off gallivanting when you need to be around looking for a job,’ said Alice.

‘Talia said it would be good for me to have a break.’

‘Perhaps,’ conceded Alice. ‘But it would be cheaper for you to have a break in Kerry.’

‘I want to go somewhere warm. Get a bit of sun into my bones. That’ll energise me.’

‘Hmm.’ Alice didn’t sound convinced. ‘Do whatever you think is best. But we’re here if you need us.’

‘Thanks, Mam. Maybe I’ll drop down for a day or two. But I need to be in Dublin to look for jobs.’

‘We do have the internet down here, you know,’ Alice remarked. ‘We’re not entirely behind the times.’

‘I know. I know.’

‘I worry about you,’ said Alice abruptly. ‘You’re not like the boys.’

‘I never made the Dublin team, no,’ agreed Sheridan.

‘You’re not as tough,’ said her mother. ‘You don’t have the hard edge.’

‘I’m hard enough,’ Sheridan told her.

‘I hope so.’

‘I’ll be fine.’

‘OK. Take care. Keep in touch.’

‘I will.’

Sheridan ended the call. There was a lump in her throat. She’d expected Alice’s initial reaction, blaming her for losing her job. She’d even expected her to be a bit snippy about her deciding to go on holiday. But she hadn’t expected her concern. Somehow that had been harder to take than the blame.

Griff texted Sheridan shortly after she finished her phone conversation with Alice, and they agreed to meet up that evening in his favourite Mediterranean restaurant, off Georges Street. She arrived before him and was already sitting at a table when he arrived. He apologised for being late and she said that she was a bit early and they both ordered without looking at the menu because they ate there so often they didn’t need it any more.

‘How’s the head?’ asked Griff.

‘Not great,’ she admitted. ‘Talia should’ve stopped me.’

‘I don’t think you were in the mood to listen.’

‘Probably not,’ she conceded, and then reached for the water that the waiter had placed on the table. ‘Thanks for looking after me and bringing me back to your place. And for letting me sleep on this morning. I’ve been chugging back isotonic drinks all day but I know I’ll be wrecked until tomorrow.’

‘Poor darling.’ He smiled at her and rested his hand on hers.