This Charming Man by Marian Keyes Read Free Book Online Page A

making that bit up, I had no idea how far away the sea was. Only men could do things like that. ‘Half a mile.’ ‘Fifty yards.’ Giving directions, that sort of thing. I could look at a woman and say, ‘36C.’ Or, ‘Let’s try it in next size up.’ But I had no idea how far away Uncle Tom’s sea was except that I wouldn’t want to walk to it in high heels.
    In the kitchen there were scorch marks on the wall behind the (new) toaster, a table with a cherry-patterned oilcloth cover, six hard wooden chairs, yellow free-standing cupboards, like from a kitchen of the 1950s, and old, mismatched delph, many with faded floral patterns. The kitchen windows also looked towards the sea. I shut my left eye and squinted out at it. Still had no idea how far away it was.
    My mobile rang. Bridie. ‘How was the drive?’
    ‘Good, fine,’ I said. Hard to be enthusiastic.
    ‘How long did it take?’
    I couldn’t remember. I hadn’t been paying attention. But she had told me to time the journey. So I said, just off the top of my head, ‘Two hours, forty minutes.’
    She whistled and said, ‘That’s the fastest yet. I have to go, have to tell Dad. He managed two hours fifty in July but that was at half five in the morning. He’ll be upset to have been bested. Especially by a girl.’
    ‘Don’t tell him, then,’ I said. ‘Why upset him? There’s enough upset in the world.’
17.30
    Upstairs there were three bedrooms. I chose the middle-sized one. Wasn’t so up myself that I had to pick the biggest but self-esteem was not so low that I automatically gravitated to the smallest. (Good sign.) A double bed, but very narrow. How did people cope in the olden days? Was not exactly a fatso (although would have liked a much, much smaller bottom) but there was really only room for me in it. The frame of the bed was iron and at first glance the quilt looked like patchwork and I was charmed. Then I took a closer look. Not patchwork at all. Fake patchwork business that cost a tenner in Penneys. All the same, looked good from a distance.
    The same white lumpy walls as downstairs and two small windows with red-painted frames. Cheery. With flowery curtains. Cosy.
    I opened my suitcase. Shock. The clothing I’d packed was evidence of my unsettled mental state. Nothing practical. No jeans. No boots. Foolish! Was living in a field! Needed mucker-style clothing! Instead had brought dresses, spangles, ostrich feather boa! Where did I think I’d be going? The only thing that might be useful was a pair of wellingtons. Did it matter that they were pink? Did it make them any less practical?
    I hung my impractical clothing in the mahogany wardrobe. Carved. Curved. Solid. Flyblown mirror on the front. Looked antique. You’d pay a fortune for that in Dublin.
18.23
    Back downstairs I noticed a telly in the corner! Quite annoyed with Bridie! Rang her.
    ‘There’s a telly here! You said there was no telly!’
    ‘It’s not a telly,’ she said.
    ‘It looks like a telly!’
    But, worried, I had to go closer and crouch down and check. Was I so distraught that I’d mistaken something else for telly? A microwave, perhaps?
    ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘It’s physically a telly. But it’s not connected.’
    ‘So what’s the point, then?’
    ‘You can watch DVDs on it.’
    ‘Where will I get DVDs?’
    ‘In the DVD shop.’
    ‘I am a long way from a DVD shop.’
    ‘You’re not. The supermarket on main street has a good choice. Up to date.’
    ‘Okay. So… ah… any news?’
    I meant, any news about Paddy?
    ‘You’ve only been gone a couple of hours,’ she said.
    But had detected hesitation in her delivery. ‘There is news,’ I cried. ‘Please tell me!’
    ‘No,’ she said. ‘You’ve gone down there to escape from news!’
    ‘Please tell me! Now that I know there is news, I must know. I will die if I don’t know. I won’t ask again, but I need to know now.’
    She sighed. Said, ‘Okay. In the evening paper. Date set. Wedding to be