Second Hand Jane (17 page)

Her foul temper
evaporated a moment later, though, as she stroked Wilbur’s warm,
trembling body and her eyes grew hot and gritty as she said her
goodbyes.

“Look after
yourself, my little mate. I know that we have only just met but I’m
really going to miss you, and I just know that you will grow up to
be big and strong just like your brothers and sisters next door.
Keep drinking that milk and you’ll catch up to them in no time.”
Wilbur let out a little whimpering noise and, assured it wasn’t
just a one-sided conversation she was having, Jessica kissed her
fingers and pressed them against him. “Don’t you let any of the big
pigs push you around…” She was about to start giving him a few more
lessons in life as to what he could expect when he finally got out
into the big wide world, when she heard a cough behind her.

She whirled
around, embarrassed to find Owen standing there, and wondered just
how much of her piggy pep talk he’d overheard but his face was, as
usual, unreadable.

“We’d better
get going if you’re to get on that bus,” he muttered, turning and
walking away abruptly. She said one last goodbye to Wilbur.

The journey
back to Ballymcguinness wasn’t a long one but in the rattling
silence of the Land Rover, it felt interminable. Jess stole a
surreptitious sideways glance at Owen but his face was a mask of
concentration as he tried to avoid the many potholes. She’d turned
away, folding her arms firmly across her breasts and stared instead
at the lush, patchwork fields. If that was the way he wanted to
play it, she told herself, then that was fine; she would be Ms
Professional too. After all, it wasn’t as though she had come to
the North to make a new friend. She had come as a journalist to
hear a story, which she had done. Mission completed. It was time to
go home now and write that story.

Owen screeched
to a halt outside the school and the children on their morning
break all stopped playing to stare over at them. Then, realising
there was nothing more to see than a grumpy looking farmer and an
equally grumpy looking woman, they returned to their games. The
bus’s timely arrival spared them from having to hang around
awkwardly and Jess turned toward him as it pulled up beside them.
“Well, er, thank you for everything.”

“No
problem.”

God, it was
like getting blood out of stone, she thought. “Right, well, I best
be going then. I’ll email you through a copy of the draft article
when it’s finished.”

“Aye, that
would be good.”

“Okay,
well…goodbye then.” As she climbed aboard, she didn’t see Owen turn
on his heel and walk away; she was too busy breathing a sigh of
relief. It wasn’t Leery Len sitting in the driving seat but rather
a woman who took her ticket with a cheery smile. Just as well, she
thought; otherwise she wouldn’t have been responsible for her own
actions with the mood she was in.

As she sat down
heavily in her seat, she glanced out the window and caught a
glimpse of a girl with long dark hair standing on the pavement
where she herself had stood a moment ago with Owen saying their
awkward goodbye, but as she blinked, the girl vanished. She looked
around for Owen’s jeep; perhaps he was still there. Maybe he had
seen her too? But all she could see was a cloud of exhaust fumes in
the far distance. It had been nothing, nothing at all, she told
herself. She was overwrought from all she had learnt about Amy
yesterday; that was all. The bus juddered into life and Jess sat
back in her seat, determined not to think about what she had just
seen, and to her surprise, as the bus rolled through the little
village and out onto the open road, she found herself feeling a
little sad to be leaving Ballymcguinness behind.

“What do you
think of this one?” Nora was holding out a gorgeous LBD Jess had
seen her wearing a couple of times. “You can’t go wrong with a
little black dress.”

“You can if it
is a woolly one, apparently, and little is definitely the operative
word with that one. I don’t think I’ll fit it.” Jess frowned,
surveying the strip of silky black material dangling from Nora’s
fingertips.

“Go on, give it
a try. You can always wear those support knickers your mam sent you
over last Christmas but just make sure you whip them off and
replace them with something more appropriate should things get
fruity between you and Nick. Otherwise, he’ll think you’re off to
do the Tour de France in a pair of nude-coloured cycling
shorts!”

Jess laughed.
Trust Nora to say it like it was. Lucky for her, she was heading
into work after lunch so they had the morning to put together the
perfect outfit. Standing in her bra and knickers in Nora’s
sumptuously feminine bedroom, she shivered. There had been a nasty
frost this morning, a sure sign that winter was around the corner.
She hoped Wilbur was faring okay with the sudden drop in
temperatures. Taking the dress from Nora, she wriggled her way into
it. “Zip me up, would you?”

“Okay, are you
ready? Steady—on the count of three suck your tummy in—one, two,
three, now!”

Jess breathed
in as hard as she could and Nora wrestled the zipper into place and
then took a step back. “Oh wow, it looks fab! The perfect dress for
a cocktail bar opening. What do you think?”

Jess looked in the mirror. The dress was
shorter on her than it was on Nora, finishing mid-thigh, but the no
mini-skirts rule didn’t come into effect until after she turned
thirty-five so she could still get away with it, albeit by the skin
of her teeth. From the scooped neckline to just under the bust, the
dress was satin cream, which suited the red tones of her colouring
and set off the gold flecks that decorated the green of her irises.
The bottom half was a black silk sheath. There was no doubting that
the dress was snug but it did hug her in all the right places.
Buried in the depths of her wardrobe at home, she had a pair of
black satin kitten heels, which would be just the ticket to
complete the whole mini-skirted version of Audrey Hepburn
Breakfast at
Tiffany
’s look or, she
corrected herself, Jessica Baré Cocktails at Esquires look. “You’re
right. It is perfect, just so long as I don’t breathe out and don’t
sit down all night.”

“Listen to your
Aunty Nora. Wear those sucky-in knickers of yours and you’ll be
fine.”

Jess changed
out of the dress and back into her Wallis camel cords. They’d
looked brand new when she whipped them off the hanger at the
hospice thrift store, a bargain at two euros. Knotting the belt of
the suede, fur-lined jacket she’d also been talked into buying that
day, she flicked her hair out from under the collar. The old dear
behind the counter had told her the jacket’s caramel colour set the
highlights off in her hair “a treat.” She’d happily parted with
another fiver—always a sucker for a compliment.

Dressed again,
she wandered down the hall into the kitchen to join Nora for an
overdue coffee and catch up. She didn’t rate her chances of a piece
of cake to go with that coffee—not if Nora was still Dukaning. Mind
you, she mused with a rueful glance down at her own midriff, she
couldn’t really afford to be eating cake between now and tomorrow
night anyway. Perhaps she’d try to snaffle one of those protein bar
thingies Nora always had to hand instead.

“Okay, so
what’s the story, morning glory?” Nora asked, setting down a
fragrant mug in front of Jess before reluctantly handing her a
protein bar from the box on the breakfast bar. “They’re not cheap
these, you know.”

“Thanks. Me and
my magic suction knickers thank you for your support.”

“Oh, well, I
suppose it would cost me more in the long run if you split the
dress,” Nora said grudgingly as she ripped open the wrapper on her
own bar before adding, “So come on, then, spill. What in the name
of Jaysus were you doing in Ballyfrigginmcguinness on a pig farm?
Brianna gave me some garbled story about how you’d gone up there to
sniff out an idea for your column. I didn’t get the whole rundown
because she spotted Harry in the front garden piddling on the
geraniums so she had to dash.”

Jess laughed before saying, “I did head up
to Ballymcguinness for a story.” She began filling her in on how
her recent purchase of
Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs
had led her to Amy’s story. Nora sipped
away in silence, her normally steely blue eyes filling with tears
when she heard about the bomb and how it had cut Amy’s life short
all those years ago. Getting up, Jess got the box of tissues down
from the fridge. Nora might come across as a tough nut but
underneath it all, she was made of marshmallow like the rest of
them. Handing her the box and waiting until she’d finished giving
her nose a good blow, she began telling her all about Owen and his
moods, the farm, and of course Wilbur. Nora’s tears dried up and
her eyes narrowed as she wagged a finger at her.

“Jessica Baré,
I can see where you are heading with this and I am telling you,
don’t you dare go there!”

“What do you
mean?” Jess looked at her friend, puzzled by her vehemence.

“I mean please
do not do your usual trick of falling for the man with issues. Not
this time, when you have someone waiting in the wings for you who
is both successful and gorgeous but best of all very, very keen on
you.”

“Honestly,
Nora, I don’t know what you’re talking about and by the way, you
sounded just like my mother then. That’s exactly the sort of thing
she would say.” Jess was indignant.

For her part,
Nora was equally indignant. She didn’t like being compared to
anyone’s mother. “I did not sound like your mother—well, okay,
maybe I did, just a little bit, but to be fair, she has a point, as
well as your best interests at heart and so do I.”

Jess screwed
her nose up; she was not liking the turn this conversation had
taken.

“Don’t look
like that. You do self-sabotage; you know you do. It’s like you
have this weird kind of gravitational pull toward men with problems
so far as your love life is concerned. You can’t seem to help
yourself. You think you will be the one to fix them.” Nora shook
her head. “Well, my friend, take it from me, you can’t fix what
happened to this Owen. It’s truly awful and it’s really sad but it
happened and it’s up to him to move on, which he obviously can’t.
Did he tell you why his marriage broke up?”

“No but then I
didn’t ask him because it was none of my business and not related
in any which way to the story I am going to write. Which, may I
remind you, is why I was there. It was work, not a romantic quest,
thank you very much and for your information, I do not fancy him! I
felt sorry for him, yes, but who wouldn’t? And even you would have
thought Wilbur was something special.”

“Sorry, I beg
to differ. I like roast pork and apple sauce far too much to be
moved by an undersized piglet and if his being divorced has nothing
to do with your story, how come it even came up?”

Jessica poked her tongue out at Nora.
“You’re a hardnosed woman, Nora Brennan. I am not even going to
bother answering that and I
do
fancy Nick; of course I do—he’s gorgeous. Man of my dreams
material, which Owen is not.”

“Alright,
alright, truce—I believe you.” Nora held her hands up in
surrender.

“Good.”

They ate their
respective bars in silence. Actually, Jess thought, looking at the
brown square before taking another bite, it wasn’t too bad. Chewing
on the chocolate raspberry-flavoured snack, she decided it was time
to turn the tables.

“So Miss
Know-It-All, what is it with you and the adventure sports?”

Nora grinned
sheepishly. “All I can tell you about that is that I have met a man
worth putting my life on the line for.”

“Yes, maybe,
but you’re not being honest with him, are you? You are not the kind
of girl who likes to jump out of planes for fun or hare down bike
tracks made for goats.”

“Honesty,
shmonesty—it’s overrated in relationships anyway.” Nora nearly sent
her coffee flying as she waved her hand to emphasise her point.

“But you hate
anything that puts you the teensiest bit out of your comfort zone.”
Jess wasn’t going to let it go.

“He’s worth
it.” And with that, Nora closed the subject.

***

“Whoa, look at
you. You’re gorgeous!” Nick leaned in and kissed Jess on the
cheek.

He smelt
gorgeous, she noticed, inhaling deeply. It reminded her of the
aftershave Owen had been wearing at dinner the other night. Under
strict instructions from Nora, she’d had her hair blow-waved that
afternoon and it fell softly around her shoulders in a halo of deep
red waves. She’d made an effort with her makeup, too, spending ages
making it look like she had no makeup on at all except for the deep
plum lipstick she’d opted for to give her face drama—or at least
that’s what the magazine she’d copied the look from said it would
do. As for the dress, well, it was worth feeling like a sausage
stuffed into a skin that was far too tight for its meat filling if
she got a reaction like that, she decided as he opened the car
door.

She made sure
she climbed in to the low to the ground sports car as lady-like as
was possible in order to keep her secret support weapons discreetly
under wraps. It was far too early in their budding relationship to
give him a glimpse of those!

Nick manoeuvred
the sports car with the expertise of a man who knew the streets of
central Dublin well. He was in control and it was rather sexy, Jess
thought, her eyes sliding to the right for a sly glance. His
fingers, she noticed as they loosely gripped the steering wheel,
were long, his nails well-manicured. Owen’s fingers had been thick
and calloused, a working man’s hands. Stop it right now, Jessica!
she told herself firmly as Nick suddenly swerved into a red-roped
cordoned off area on Dame Street, where a young valet waited to
take the car away and park it elsewhere.