LITMIR.BIZ

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Ricky was in stitches because it seemed so funny to see his father, the giant, the dangerous badass man, skipping and turning with two left feet and not giving a shit what people thought.

      Staffie and Willie were equally inexpert: with pints in their hands, they bopped around, singing the words at the top of their voices. Mike waved Zara over to join them.

      Zara felt awkward and was on the point of walking away, but Mike laughed. ‘Come on, Zara, show us how it’s done.’ But his playful mood suddenly plummeted as he went to grab her left hand and realized that it was no longer there. Her humiliation was written all over her face, and she couldn’t hold back how she felt by laughing it off. Instead, she started to walk away, but as she turned, there, in front of her, was Jennifer, swinging her hips and waving her arms. Zara skirted around her, holding back the tears.

      Once she was in the safety of the empty kitchen, she took a deep breath; it was all too much. She should pack her things and return to her father’s home. Seeing a packet of cigarettes on the worktop, she tipped one out, placed it in her mouth, and lit the end. The first drag was soothing and let her muscles relax; the second one started to ease her mind. Taking a glance out of the window, she saw Jennifer grab Mike’s hands and dance, showing off her body by exaggerating her sexy moves. He was looking around, no doubt wondering where she’d gone, but as Zara continued to watch, it was apparent that Mike’s concern was short-lived; he was swigging back a fresh pint that was placed in his hand. If she went home tonight, she would look like a jealous girlfriend with the strops. She took one last drag on her cigarette and stubbed it out. Deciding to head for her room, she filled a glass with cold water, irritated by how long and awkward it was with her disability, and then, with the sob trapped in her throat, she went upstairs for solitude.

      Within a minute, there was a knock at the door, followed by a deep voice. ‘Can I come in?’

      She assumed it was Mike and sat up straight on the bed. ‘Yeah.’

      But as the door opened, there, taking up the doorway, was Eric. ‘Hey, babe, what’s the matter? Are you okay?’

      His sympathetic eyes almost caused the trapped sob to leave. She breathed in through her nose to clear the emotion. ‘Yeah, I’m fine. I feel a little under the weather, and, obviously, I’m concerned about Neil. I just thought that rather than dampen the mood, I’d take myself off to bed. If Mike asks where I am, would you just say I’m asleep? That I drank too much or something?’

      He eased his way into the room and sat beside her. ‘Listen, Zara, Mike dancing with Jennifer is nothing. Serving a big lump means catching up, and once he has it out of his system, he’ll be back to the old Mikey you know. Just give him time.’

      Zara stiffened. She wasn’t the type of woman to live like that – a husband getting his oats just because he’d missed out for twelve years. It wasn’t as if she’d had it easy herself. She’d been locked up too. ‘Well, maybe I should move out and give him time for, as you say, “catching up”.’

      Eric stroked her hair. ‘You and Mikey will be fine. He’s just pissed and enjoying himself.’

      She would have removed Eric’s hand, but her self-esteem and attempt at being in control were slowly ebbing away, so she let him continue. ‘I’m going to move back home. Eric, would you drive me tomorrow? I can’t . . . ’ She broke off as the tears fell and the sob escaped. In between broken words, she cried, ‘I am useless, now, I can’t do this . . . Mike deserves a real woman . . . and my business. Jesus, how can I run that?’

      She wiped her face and cleared her throat. ‘I’m going to sell up everything and let the Lanigans take over completely. My dad was wrong. I just don’t have it in me.’

      As Eric pulled her close, she allowed his arms to wrap around her.

      ‘Now, now,’ he whispered, ‘I’ll go with you tomorrow to meet Shamus, and we’ll take it from there. Your father wasn’t wrong, Zara. You are a strong woman, with a good head on your shoulders. You’ve been through a big ordeal, and you ain’t alone, babe. I’m here. I’ll help. Besides, Mike has his own business to take care of. He doesn’t really need me.’

      Registering what he’d said, Zara, pulled away. ‘What? You mean you’re not back on their firm?’ Her eyes narrowed in confusion.

      He shook his head. ‘No. Mike has Staffie, Lou, and Willie. Apparently, they’ve some other business they need to take care of. That’s why they were released early, but I guess you knew that. Mike must tell you everything.’

      A dark thought ripped through her mind. Mike hadn’t told her why he was released early. In fact, he’d not discussed it with her at all. And she’d been too intent on making wedding plans and getting herself better even to ask. What was puzzling her though was why he hadn’t mentioned anything to her, when, clearly, Eric was better informed.

      ‘Er . . . do you know what this business is?’

      He gave her another compassionate look. ‘Nope. See, that’s how I know he doesn’t want me working with him in the firm or he would have said. Still, that don’t matter. I’m just thrilled that he’s out now and that you are too.’

      How strange, she thought. Mike would have told his family, surely, and herself, come to that, wouldn’t he? ‘Are you sure you haven’t any idea what this business is about?’

      Eric smiled. He really didn’t know himself; he’d only overheard snippets from a conversation between Staffie and Willie while they were drunk at the homecoming. They had quickly shut up shop when they saw him hovering around. ‘Well, all I know is he was asked to do something, in return for his liberty. He didn’t elaborate, so I left it at that . . . Now, then, don’t you worry about Mike. Let’s just sort out your affairs. Like I said, I’ll help you, babe. You get some rest, and tomorrow, I’ll drive you to your meeting.’

      He kissed the top of her head and made a move to leave the room.

      ‘Er . . . Eric, have you got a cigarette?’

      Eric sat back down on the bed and looked directly into Zara’s desolate eyes.

      ‘Babe, don’t smoke. You don’t need to.’

      Their gaze locked for a few seconds, and as Eric slowly blinked, he gently stroked her cheek. She felt the soft touch and unexpectedly craved more. She leaned into his hand, keeping it against her face, and closed her eyes. She could feel Eric’s warm breath caress her skin and his lips softly brush over hers. Whether it was the familiar aftershave, or, in that moment, experiencing a sense of being wanted, it didn’t matter. He pulled her closer, and his kiss that was harder, and more meaningful, suddenly snapped her out of the embrace. Subtly, she pulled away. ‘I’m sorry, Eric, it’s been a long day. I feel so tired.’

      He didn’t force the connection but simply stroked her hair once more. ‘Of course, darling, you get some sleep,’ he replied, with such an empathetic look that it almost brought her to tears again.

      Once he was gone, Zara felt as though she was experiencing a terrible dream, her mind now back on Mike. She was getting bad vibes but needed to trust her instincts. What was her relationship with Mike? Had she imagined this tight bond between them? Christ, what if she’d got him all wrong? For a moment, she almost wished Eric was back beside her on the bed. He’d made her feel special and she’d missed that so much.

      ***

      Zara was woken by the vibration of her phone squashed against her chest. She’d fallen asleep fully clothed, and the phone was still in her top pocket. Through blurry eyes, she noticed the missed calls from Shamus. She suddenly bolted upright, her hand shaking. Oh my God! Neil! she thought. With a gruff, croaky voice, she said, ‘How is he, Shamus?’

      There was a pause. ‘He’s pulled through, Zara. He’s gonna make it. I need to meet you this morning. Is nine o’clock okay?’

      She glanced across at the bedside clock: it showed 6.45 a.m. Christ, have I been asleep that long? she thought. She cleared her throat. ‘Yes, of course.

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