Cecelia Ahern 3-Book Collection: One Hundred Names, How to Fall in Love, The Year I Met You. Cecelia AhernЧитать онлайн книгу.
that lasted as long as the jobs had. This – she looked around at Mary-Rose’s friends – this she did not have and had never had.
‘So you work for a magazine,’ Mary-Rose finally left the conversation at the other end of the table and turned her attention to Kitty. Kitty was momentarily disappointed about having to get back to work.
‘Yes. Etcetera. Do you know it?’
Mary-Rose thought about it. ‘Yes, I think so,’ she said unconvincingly.
‘My editor was Constance Dubois. Was she in touch with you, this year or last year?’ Kitty had long ago given up the hope that Constance had questioned any of these people.
‘No, I don’t think so,’ Mary-Rose said again uncertainly.
‘She passed away a few weeks ago,’ Kitty explained. ‘But before she died she was working on a story. You were part of that story.’
Again, the same reaction as from Birdie, Eva and, to a certain extent, Archie. Surprise, confusion, embarrassment.
‘Do you know why she would have wanted to talk to you and write about you?’
Mary-Rose looked stunned. Kitty could see her eyes moving left and right as she searched both sides of her brain for the answer.
‘No,’ she responded, confused. ‘I’m the most boring person you could possibly meet.’
Kitty laughed. ‘I seriously doubt that. It has been fun so far.’
‘That’s Sam. Me? Honestly, I’m so boring. I’ve never done anything interesting, thought anything interesting, known or seen anything interesting.’
Kitty laughed further. ‘I find you very interesting.’ And she wasn’t lying. It was a pleasure to be in Mary-Rose’s company, to be invited into her world. ‘Well, how would you like to be part of the story I’m writing? Don’t you think that would be interesting?’
Again there was the same look that Kitty had seen from the others: shyness, embarrassment, flattery, but overall the feeling that they simply weren’t good enough for a story.
‘What’s the story about?’
‘About the people on a list.’
‘How many people are on the list?’
‘One hundred names in total.’
Mary-Rose’s eyes widened. ‘How big is your story?’
Kitty smiled. ‘How big is yours?’
Mary-Rose repeatedly pressed her finger against the crumbs on the table and released them again, while shyly answering Kitty’s questions.
‘I’m sure that these other people are very interesting, I’m sure they have exciting lives. I’m just a hairdresser. I work two days in a salon in Booterstown where I’ve lived all my life and the other two days I’m freelance. The rest of the time I’m at home with my mum.’
‘Where do you freelance? Magazines? Television?’
‘God, no. Debs’ nights and hen parties are about as exciting as I get, but mostly I’m in hospitals.’
‘Hospitals?’
‘Yeah, they call me whenever they need me. There’s no hair salons in the hospitals and often people who are sick really feel better when their hair’s done. Sometimes I do make-up for them too, but that’s less popular. It gives them a bit of dignity, at least it did for my mum.’
‘She spent time in hospital?’
‘She had a stroke. She was only young, forty-two. She’s forty-four now and still needs full-time care but getting her hair done always made her feel better. Not better better, but better on the inside. I do nails too, if they ask me. I’m not a qualified nail technician but I bring a selection of colours. To be honest, I think a lot of them are just glad of the company and chat.’
‘That’s a beautiful thing for you to do. It’s not something I’d ever thought about before.’
‘I’m not that nice. I do charge them,’ she said, embarrassed by the compliment.
‘How is your mother now?’
‘Not great. She lost the use of the left side of her body. She has to be helped to do most things, she had to learn to speak again.’
‘That must have been very difficult for you?’
She smiled sadly. ‘Not as hard as it was for her.’
‘Who helps her?’
‘We have home help for a few hours a day and then … well, me when I get home.’
‘Any brothers or sisters?’
‘Nope.’
‘Dad?’
‘Nope.’
‘That’s a lot of responsibility.’
‘Ah. It is what it is. I love my mum. I’d do anything for her.’
And just when Kitty was about to tell Mary-Rose she was far from boring, her life got much more interesting.
Sam tapped his glass with a spoon and attracted the attention of those at their table along with the few surrounding tables too. The friends at Mary-Rose and Sam’s table looked at each other with big smiles, knowing what was in store.
‘Oh God.’ Mary-Rose shrunk in her chair, her cheeks already pink.
‘What’s happening?’ Kitty asked.
‘You’ll see.’
Sam stood, continued to tap his glass until he had the attention of the entire restaurant. Not sure how to react to this disruption, the manager and the waiters viewed him warily nearby.
‘I’m very sorry to interrupt your evening,’ Sam said politely, as if butter wouldn’t melt. ‘I promise I won’t take up too much of your time but there’s something that I just have to do. There’s somebody important in this room who I’d like to say something special to.’
He cleared his throat and a twitter of excitement gathered in the room. He was no longer annoying anybody; he had their full attention.
Sam ran his eyes over everyone on his table, resting for a moment on Kitty, which got her heart rate up, and then moved on to Mary-Rose, whose face was now puce. He smiled at her lovingly.
‘Josephine Quinn,’ he said softly, and Kitty looked around in confusion. Had she been duped? Was she sitting with the wrong person? How on earth had Mary-Rose suddenly become Josephine?
‘Yes,’ she said softly.
‘You and I have been friends for a long time, you were there for me every day of my life, every single second. I never needed to call for you, you were always there, like a shadow, behind me, following me, stalking me.’
One of his friends snorted and was thumped in the arm by his girlfriend.
‘You have always been there exactly when I need you, ever since …’ his voice cracked and he looked down, and Kitty wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to continue. He looked up again and his eyes shone with tears ‘… ever since I had my operation, you know, Josephine, the operation where I had my—’
‘Yes, yes, I know the one,’ Mary-Rose said hastily.
‘Well,’ he took a deep breath and came around the table to her.
A few women in the restaurant yelped excitedly, Mary-Rose covered her face in her napkin. Her friend beside her pulled her arm down. The chefs came from the kitchen to the door to watch. Everything was still and silent. Sam got down on bended knee and one woman yelped in excitement. The diners and staff all laughed and then a hush resumed. Sam reached for Mary-Rose’s hand and she was forced to face him, removing her hands from