‘You’re very positive.’
‘It makes everything easier when I am. I’d have loved to have gone to a sports college, done strength and conditioning for teams, sports psychology, all that type of thing.’
‘Why don’t you do it?’
‘That ship has sailed for me. My kids are too small. That sounds like an excuse, a children excuse, but it’s not. I’d prefer to use my time while they’re young by being with them.’
I go for my usual swim after work and it helps me leave my annoyances behind. I feel calm driving home.
I eat my fish and two veg dinner, with one veg being a mini-mountain of mash potato, and read a little, beside the fire. Gran potters around, doing her thing.
Fionn joins us while we watch the 9 o’clock news.
He’s smiling.
‘How are you?’ he asks.
‘Grand. You?’
‘I’m mighty, Natalie, the words are pouring from me. This part of Ireland is magical.’
‘Were you not bored all day?’
‘No.’
‘I have to work again tomorrow but we can do something in the evening if you’d like?’
He shrugs and says, ‘Yeah, if you want.’
‘We could go to the cinema?’
‘Okay.’
I say goodnight and go to my room. I don’t even want to go to the cinema but what will he do all day on his own here with Gran after being here all week doing nothing?
We watch a thriller about a woman in smalltown America who thinks she’s losing her sanity.
Fionn enjoys it but doesn’t say much in the car on the way, or afterwards. I get the feeling he’s itching to go back to the house. I’ve torn him away from the place.
On the way home, I ask, ‘What about your dole?’
‘I’ve been on the dole so long that I’ve the one that goes straight into my bank. Super handy.’
I click my tongue and say, ‘Lucky.’
He’s not asking for anything and doesn’t seem bored. He’s pretty content. He goes to his room when we get in.
In the kitchen, I lower my voice and say, ‘Is he bothering you?’
‘Who?’
‘Fionn,’ I say and nudge my head at the door. ‘The poet.’
‘Who?’
I scan Gran’s face for any sign of her joking. ‘He’s been here since last Friday, the writer lad.’
‘Oh yes,’ she says. ‘Gosh I’m getting forgetful. Will I drop him down a cup of tea?’
‘No, Gran. He’s fine. Do you want him to go? Is he making you feel like a prisoner?’
‘A prisoner?’
‘Or a babysitter?’
‘No, he’s grand. It’s nice to have a bit of company during the days. He’s a quiet sort.’
‘I can tell him to go if he’s bothering you?’
‘Natalie, he’s fine. I don’t mind him at all.’
I offer to bring him to the station the next morning, but he waves me off.
‘You’re very kind, Natalie, but there’s no need,’ he says, pouring some hot water in his flask.
I don’t know what his answer means.
I chomp on my porridge as he occupies the kitchen space.
At work, I talk to Andrea. ‘He’s a bit strange. How come he doesn’t know it’s time to go?’
Andrea asks, ‘Did you tell him to go?’
‘No. How can I do that? I realized we never set a date. He said could he come to the west and I said yeah. Do you think he’s going to move in?’
Andrea laughs. ‘Natalie, instead of swimming tonight, come to my spin class. It might help you release some steam.’
‘Spin class? Are you fucking with me? Look at me.’ I do a dramatic wave over my body. ‘I would die at a spin class.’
‘No, you wouldn’t. You can go at your own pace. It’s a high intensity workout, it’ll relieve some of your stress. Go swim after it then.’
‘I want to kill him.’
‘Smash the stress, seriously.’
After work, I find Fionn in Gran’s good sitting room, poking around, looking at old family photos.
‘So here you are,’ I say, like I’ve busted him.
‘Yep. Wasn’t everyone beautiful in old pictures?’ He points at one of my gran’s wedding day.
I melt. ‘Yeah, I suppose.’
‘I’d love if we were all in black and white nowadays. The glamour of it.’
I tell him some things about my family. He tells me about his; his parents divorced when he was small. His mother brought him up until she died of a sudden brain haemorrhage when he was fifteen. He moved in with his father and stepmother then.
‘They’re cool but I always felt like an outsider. My two half-brothers are ten years younger than me. My stepmother adores them. She was nice and all to me but she didn’t really want me there. My dad was gone, as usual, always working. Some people’s dads hit the drink hard in my area. Mine hit the office. We never saw him much.’
I feel sorry for him again. I even forget that he shouldn’t be in the room, he’s invaded Gran’s privacy by being there, with her treasured antiques and old photo books, with the couch that still has the plastic covering on it so it won’t ever get dirty, or used. It has a film of dust over it. Everything in the good sitting room has. I itch my nose.
‘The house is a bit of a mess.’ I suddenly feel claustrophobic and rub my hair.
‘Is it?’
Andrea’s voice comes back to me. I check the time. ‘Fionn, I’m off to a fitness class. I’ll see you later or in the morning.’
‘Sound.’
I need some ‘me’ time but I can’t have it if he’s lurking. I head to Andrea’s class, reluctantly. I don’t want to have to murder Fionn if I stay at home. I don’t even want to fall out with him.
I think about turning the car around at least four times on the road to town, and again outside the leisure centre. I feel humongous in my leggings, and sports T-shirt – even though it’s mansize and loose on me.
Just fucking try it, Natalie.
It’d be worse of a beating I’d give myself if I go home now without doing it. I don’t want to have to explain why I’m back so soon to Fionn if he’d be bothered asking.
I suck some air.
Pat’s at the front desk and waives my fee. ‘Staff are free, Natalie. Go on ahead. Andrea’s up there.’
The studio is fairly packed. The bikes are set in a wide semi-circle and Andrea adjusts the seat on one for someone. I recognize a few of the others attending from when I cover reception, and nod at them. I stand beside the bike in the corner.
Andrea grins when she spots me. ‘Nat, you came. God, he must really be driving you mad.’
‘Please don’t hurt me at this.’
‘I won’t. Here, the seat goes to hip height. Are the handlebars okay for you?’
I mount and get the feel of the bike. ‘Yeah, sound.’
Andrea flicks a switch to dim the main lights and turns on disco lights. She plays loud mainstream pop remixed to a gym beat. She shouts and has us dip, push up, climb hills, sprint. I sweat profusely and think I’m going to vomit. I’m not completely unfit from the swimming but I amn’t flying it in the class like the others. They all must think I’m a fat idiot coming to a HIIT class.
I look around and realize nobody in the room is looking at me. They’re all huffing and puffing their own way through the class.
When it’s done, I wipe my head – the sweat is pouring off me.
‘Jesus, Andrea, my legs are like a newborn calf’s.’
‘Good.’
‘That was horrible.’
‘It wasn’t horrible, come on. Select the right words for things.’
‘It was tough on my legs and stomach. I enjoyed sweating a bit, my head is clearer.’