Never Again - 18

Chapter 18...the dinner date

Two days later Jack was appearing on a Saturday morning football magazine show, his team had the second from last game later that day. When he headed to London Friday night, he didn’t invite Erin, and she wasn’t bothered. They’d seen a lot of each other the last two weeks, she was glad of some time to herself. Karen and Tania the two receptionists at work were part of a group going out for a meal that evening, so after checking on Barney, she headed back to the City centre.

The restaurant was an Italian chain, the food predictable, but there was nothing wrong with it. A few of the surgeons had come along and were throwing money around in a very boastful fashion. During her first week in the clinic at least one of them had made gestures and comments that were inappropriate, and now that the alcohol was free flowing Erin was grateful of the two secretaries’ advice and comments helping her through the evening. If only she’d worked here she’d have never trusted Max as well as she had, he was the same as these surgeons, cocky, confident and with the morals of an alley cat. Retrospect was such a wonderful thing!

By half past nine Erin was making her way home, she loved the opportunity to go out, but the little sleep she’d had this week meant she was extremely grateful of the thought of some unadulterated sleep.

When Erin woke the next morning, she’d had a few goodnight texts from Jack, but she’d slept through them. As she ate breakfast she watched him on TV talking about his injury, his thoughts, his prospects. He was as charismatic as ever, and as edgy as he always was, no one was completely comfortable interviewing him as he often threw awkward questions back at the interviewer. Today was no exception, as was usual questions hinted at his bad boy image, but he let them glide over him, all too soon he was talking about the day he met Pele, the greatest footballer ever. How could a TV interviewer compete with that? As usual he ended the show in a confident waft of glory. His recent misdemeanours were starting to fade already.

The rest of the day Erin spent with Barney trying to rehab him in a way a colleague had recommended, one of her friends in London was an animal physiotherapist and they’d had a few email dialogues about Barney’s injury. By early evening she’d located a canine hydrotherapy pool fairly locally, all she needed now was the all clear from the vet.

Sunday  Erin went for run, there was a half marathon coming up in a few months that she’d entered so she had to try and get her training schedule back on track. Then she cooked a beef casserole, it seemed strange to go to so much effort when she was the only one eating. But if she thought like that she’d eat junk food every day. She was just sitting down to it when her phone bleeped. She couldn’t hide the grin when she saw Jack’s name, she’d barely spoken to him all weekend.

                “How was your weekend? Sorry not been in touch, I forget how busy London is! Can we do dinner tomorrow? I know a nice little Mexican?”

All of a sudden Erin realised that she was looking forward to that more than she had anything else. She’d tried to fight the feelings she was having for Jack, but she couldn’t. So she had to go with it, trust him, trust herself, see where things went.

It was dead on seven pm the following day when her doorbell rang. Erin was stood in the bedroom and wanted to scream. How did you dress for a Monday night dinner date?  Her room was a mess, at least eight discarded outfits tossed over the bed and floor, and now he was here. Gathering up armfuls of clothes, she dumped them all in her laundry basket, they weren’t dirty, but she’d deal with them later...all because she anticipated him coming home with her after the meal. Was she becoming a loose woman?

Groaning she glanced in the mirror, she’d settled on simple black dress, and she slipped on a pair of matching heels as she headed for the door. As usual Jack looked impeccable, black jeans coating his legs, a grey sweater that looked made for him and a jacket tossed over one shoulder almost in a catalogue pose.

He gave a slow look up and down, accompanied by a low pitched whistle and Erin fought the instinct to bask in that appreciation, she was so glad she’d deliberated her choice now.              

“Not so bad yourself Mr Reilly!” she replied rather too coyly.

Offering her an arm, he grinned then led her out to his very low slung black sports car, helping her into the floor level seat. He was grinning as he sat beside her, and powered the engine. Erin wasn’t into cars per se but even she could appreciate the vibrating roar of the vehicle as he hit the accelerator.

                “Boy toy?” she asked with a smirk.

He shrugged, “always promised myself I’d get a beautiful piece of Italian artistry if I could ever afford it, problem is it’s not really practical! But don’t tell anyone that, ok?”

She chuckled, “so I was right, boy toy!”

With a groan he hit the accelerator again and stormed out of the street. He stopped outside a non descript building in a quiet part of town, as the car stopped she could see that the window of the building was actually a view into a small restaurant.

                “Quaint!” She observed.

He nodded, “Santi our right back, well he met the guy who runs this place, there’s a Hispanic connection, treated like royalty, but who knew it would do the best Mexican outside Mexico! It’s a delight!”

She loved that he was so enthusiastic about the place; it was easy to become complacent when you lived a life like him, she’d seen it with Max, the amount of dinners, premiers they’d attended, and he was bored so very quickly.  But not Jack, he was looking forward to showing her how great this place was, and she liked that, a lot.

He helped her out of the car, and his hand stayed at the small of her back as he directed her into the building. A small stocky man rushed to meet them, his dark skin weathered in a way only hours in the sun could do.

                “Senor Reilly! It is good to see you again!”

Jack smiled charismatically and extended a hand, “you too Miguel, and as I told you last time, I’m Jack...” he paused turning to Erin, “and this is Erin, my guest!”

Miguel ushered them to a table, “pleased to meet you Senorita Erin, the chef recommends the monkfish today, but as you will see...” he seated them then handed them menus, “we have a lot of very good meals!”

                “Thank you Miguel, can we have two beers?”

Nodding the man disappeared, two other tables were occupied, and Erin fought a smile as the patrons there tried not to stare in wonder at Jack. It was as unlikely that a world famous footballer would be eating in such an understated small and local place, as it was that the other diners would be at one of the central Manchester wine bars which were home to the rich and famous.

                “What do you recommend?” Erin asked coyly, peeking over the top of her menu after Miguel had delivered their beers.

Jack leaned back in his seat and grinned, “I was hoping you’d ask me that! The burritos are good, but the king here is the Chimichanga, it is amazing.”

She nodded closing her menu, “sounds good!”

The food was amazing, he was exactly right, and the one thing she could guarantee was that Jack was good company, he had been regaling stories of training ground antics all evening, it seemed that within his team they were constantly practical joking, from throwing teammates into swimming pools, to substituting music on mp3 players, there seemed to be no boundaries. And Jack Reilly seemed to be one of the major instigators.

As coffee followed dessert, the conversation came around to family. She was proud of hers, and she could talk all day about Amelia and Liam, she was a devoted aunty.  Jack was happy sat back watching her retell stories, her face lighting up as she regaled tales of them, Amelia obviously looked up to her in awe and wonder, and Liam was a rebellious child who loved exploring, his childhood on the outskirts of her parents farm was so reminiscent of his own back in Ireland.

Suddenly the room felt too warm, his collar too tight, he was going back to places he hated going. He’d not thought of his parents, his home, for so long. Since that fateful day when he’d injured her dog they’d been far too close to his thoughts for comfort.  

To Jack it felt like he was drowning, and he had to hold on to his calm, his control.  As he tried to breathe through his panic, to steady his thoughts, he noticed that Erin had stopped talking. Glancing up he noted her concerned expression.

                “Did I say something wrong?”

He shook his head, “of course not! Sorry I just remembered something I need to do this week.” It was the first lie that came into his head.

She cocked her head to one side and studied him, “you sure? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

He almost laughed, that was what his family had become, ghosts. And he couldn’t remember when things had got quite so bad. The main thing was that he had no positive memories of childhood; he and his siblings were so distant, in age and affection. He was the third of the four siblings, but he honestly believed he had had the short straw. Once his sisters were in their late teens they married and moved out, he couldn’t remember the first time he’d known that his father had beaten his mother, but he had, then she’d had several miscarriages, thinking back in later years, he came to despise his father more and more, she’d been in her mid forties when she’d finally had Conor, the ‘menopausal accident’, no one ever commented on the fact that he was the product of devout Catholicism and a woman who obeyed her husband at all costs. Domestic, emotional and sexual abuse at its greatest. He’d been free of the environment for over half his life, but the last time he’d been home, his sister Sinead’s son and granddaughter’s first communion, her sister had followed in her mother’s footsteps and had five children in her first seven years of marriage, and then one eleven years later. Little Cormack was only a month older than his niece Cara.

Screwed up! That was his family, and he’d not seen them in eighteen months, that communion where his bastard of a father had stood at the head of the family and everyone had looked at him adoringly. It had crippled Jack, he’d tried so many times to free his mother from her prison, but she always courted around the issues and ignored his protests.

And in the last six weeks she’d started to write to him, asking him to come home, to visit the family. It was apparently his responsibility, he owed it to them, they all lived in houses paid for by him, he sent money every month, but that wasn’t enough. No, he was due the guilt and the blame of a thousand ills, and woe betide him if he didn’t turn up!

Shaking his head he looked up at Erin again, she seemed seriously worried, but it was too hot, and he was feeling a bit sick, all this had started when he met her, it was all a mess, a huge great mess...“sorry...I was just...” and in a mad dash panic he got up and left the restaurant.

Erin stared from the empty seat opposite her to the closed door, then to the empty parking space in front of the window. Pulling out her phone she made to call for a cab, then it struck home she couldn’t. Shaking her head slowly, she turned to Miguel.

                “Could I have the bill please? And a taxi if possible?”

He nodded obligingly and she was relieved, she had no idea where she was.