From The Heart by Sheila O'Flanagan Page B

rarely do on the train. I spoke to her. A complete stranger. ‘My boyfriend’s going to Italy,’ I said. ‘Lucky him.’
    ‘I couldn’t help overhearing,’ she said.
    ‘He works in advertising,’ I told her. ‘It’s his job.’
    ‘Even luckier.’
    ‘And if he brings me back something by Prada . . .’ I smiled happily.
    ‘If he comes back at all,’ she said.
    I stared at her and she looked embarrassed. ‘Sorry.’
    ‘He’s going for a week,’ I told her. ‘That’s all.’
    ‘And you’re not meeting him tonight.’
    ‘Butt out,’ I snapped angrily. ‘If I want that kind of shit I can talk to any of my friends.’
    I was really annoyed. How dare that girl listen in to my personal conversation and draw all the wrong conclusions! OK, Ian was going away for a week. But he was going to bring home a present for me. Sure, he wasn’t able to meet me tonight. But he probably had things to do. And fine, he’d broken our date the night before. He’d had his reasons. Work reasons, he’d told me. Something to do with having to be at IceCool all night. It wasn’t anything like her boyfriend who clearly didn’t give a shit about her and who kept her hanging on so pathetically that even her friends felt sorry for her. I felt sorry for her, for God’s sake, and I was a complete stranger.
    The train sped southwards around the curve of the bay. I’d be glad to get home. My headache was as bad as ever.
    ‘I’m sorry,’ she said again suddenly. ‘I shouldn’t have listened.’
    ‘Doesn’t matter,’ I told her. ‘I didn’t think much of your boyfriend either.’
    Her eyes filled with tears and I squirmed uncomfortably in the seat.
    ‘Everyone says he’s using me,’ she said. ‘But I love him. He’s kind. Nobody sees that side of him because he’s a bit silly when we’re together with other people. But he’s great really.’
    ‘So’s mine,’ I said.
    Both of us got off the train at Sandycove. I wondered if this was her usual commuting train. You tend to recognise the people who get the same train as you in the evening. I normally got the one a bit earlier.
    ‘Looks like we’re both at a bit of a loose end this evening,’ I said suddenly. ‘Fancy a drink?’
    She looked surprised but said yes. So the next thing I knew we were sitting in the pub, two glasses of Miller on the table in front of us. And she was telling me all about Tom who worked in graphic design and who was such a pet really, although she didn’t think he was the commitment kind. I told her all about my lovely, lovely Ian and wondered if he was the commitment kind either. And then we told each other, over another couple of Millers, that neither of us was really looking for commitment. But it was nice to know it was a possibility. Which it probably wasn’t with Tom. Or with Ian.
    ‘You know,’ she said much later, ‘I don’t know if either of them are worth it.’
    ‘I want Ian to be worth it,’ I told her. ‘I really do.’
    ‘I want Tom to be worth it too. I had a messy break-up before. I don’t want to go through it all again.’
    She was quite a nice girl, was Cheryl. I liked her. I didn’t want her to have a messy break up with Tom either.
    ‘But you will break up with him?’
    She looked at me miserably. ‘He’ll break up with me first.’
    ‘And Ian will break up with me too.’ I knew I was right. I kept making excuses for him but I was being naïve. Me and Ian weren’t meant to be together. Just because I wanted something to happen didn’t mean that it would.
    ‘Give me your phone,’ I said.
    She looked at me in surprise but handed it over.
    ‘Tom’s number?’
    ‘Speed-dial four,’ she said.
    I hit the button and waited until he answered. He sounded peevish, I thought.
    ‘What is it, Cheryl?’ he asked. ‘I told you I was busy.’ I wondered where exactly he was busy. It was ominously quiet in the background. Maybe he was working late or whatever excuse it was he’d given her but somehow I