Quiet Types, page 9
“So, he definitely doesn’t like me,” she continued, then shot me a curious glance as her gaze wandered over me. “He’s not secretly in love with you, is he?”
I smiled wide and shook my head. Nigel wasn’t gay or even bisexual. He was a ladies’ man through and through. He’d always had a string of girlfriends, though, that had ended about a year ago, and he’d been single ever since. I think he decided to take a break from the dating scene.
Maggie grimaced. “Sorry. I had to ask. I guess he just generally doesn’t like me, then. Well, that and—” She stopped mid-sentence like she’d been about to say something before she caught herself.
I paused walking and gently caught her hand in mine. She inhaled sharply at my touch, and I tried not to fixate on how soft and right her palm felt against mine. I stared at her intently, and she grew flustered. Her cheeks reddened, and her eyes flickered away nervously. There was something she wasn’t telling me.
“Shay?” she asked.
I dropped her hand and signed, What aren’t you telling me?
“I’m sorry. I didn’t understand that. Do you want to write it down? It’ll take me a minute, but I’ll be able to read it.”
Frustrated, I pulled out my phone and typed the same question I’d just signed at her. She took the phone, a concentrated expression on her face as she started to read it. Daniel sniffed at another dog that walked by with its owner. Maggie finally handed me back the phone and shook her head. “It’s nothing.”
I shot her a glower.
“You’re very expressive.”
Yes, I was aware of that. I had to be when often my face was the only way to get my point across. I continued glowering at her, and she let out a heavy breath. “Okay, fine. Today isn’t the first time I’ve met your friend Nigel,” she said and began walking again.
As soon as the words left her mouth, my stomach dropped as I fell into step beside her. My initial instinct was something happened between them, and I was filled with jealousy. Nigel went out with his work friends all the time. What if he and Maggie met at pub or a club and slept together? The very thought made me feel ill. I was possessive over Maggie, whatever it was we shared, and I hated the idea of her being with my best friend.
“It was a couple of weeks ago now,” Maggie continued, and I braced myself to hear the story of her meeting Nigel at a pub, him chatting her up at the bar. But that wasn’t the story. Far from it.
“I was in my flat after work one night, and there were a bunch of people outside making a racket. There’s a pub just down the road, so we often get rowdy groups passing by. Anyway, I ignored them, hoping they’d move on, but after half an hour, they were still out there.” She paused to swallow. “Your friend Nigel was among them. My upstairs neighbour, Siobhan, she’s in her sixties. When she opened her window asking the group to stop making so much noise, Nigel was particularly rude to her. Then my other neighbour, Bob, who’s seventy, went outside to have a word with them. Everyone moved on by then, but Nigel remained. He stole Bob’s walking stick and began intimidating him with it. Even when I came out and told him the Gardaí had been called, he still didn’t leave. It was only when he heard sirens he finally fled. Poor Bob was shaken by the incident. And I know Nigel was drunk, but that’s still no excuse.”
I stared at her, my stomach turning for a whole other reason now. I couldn’t believe Nigel would act in such a way, but then, I wasn’t around him a lot when he drank, and from the emotion in Maggie’s voice as she recounted the incident, I knew she wasn’t lying. My expression hardened as I pulled out my phone. I needed to have a word with my friend.
“What are you doing?” Maggie asked, watching as I typed. “Are you messaging him?”
Me: You’re an arsehole.
His response was almost instantaneous.
Nigel: Fuck. She told you, didn’t she?
Me: Yep.
Nigel: Look, I was really drunk that night.
Me: I don’t want to hear it. You’re a dick. I can’t believe you tried acting like there was something off about Maggie just because she saw you making a drunken arse of yourself.
I put my phone back in my pocket. It vibrated with another message, but I’d check it later. I was too furious to keep texting with him.
“I don’t mean to cause trouble between the two of you,” Maggie said quietly as we reached a row of houses.
I sent her a look that said I was glad she’d told me the truth. If my friend was out there bullying older people outside their homes, then I needed to set him straight that it was shitty behaviour. If that was the way Nigel wanted to behave, then I didn’t want his friendship, even if we’d known one another for going on twenty-eight years.
Maggie paused in front of a blue door, the paint peeling away from the wood.
“This is me,” she said, pulling her keys from her bag. She hesitated, glancing from me to the door. “Um, I’d invite you in, but your house is so lovely, and my flat is …” she trailed off, and I recognised the look on her face. Shame. “My flat isn’t the best.”
I placed my hand on her shoulder and held her gaze, hoping she could see in my eyes I’d never judge her for where she lived. My house was nice, sure, but it was my dad’s house, not mine. He made a decent living working as a manager at the Cadbury factory for thirty years, which allowed him to buy our house. I knew how difficult buying property and renting was nowadays. My brother and Dawn had gone through hell bidding on houses before they finally found a place within their budget. I imagined it was even more hellish being a renter like Maggie.
She exhaled shakily, her grip on her keys tightening. “Okay, well, if you want to come in for a cup of tea, I don’t mind, but as I said, it’s not a great flat, and it’s really small.”
I motioned to my dog, and she smiled, bending down to pet his head. “And of course, Daniel is very welcome to come in, too.”
She turned and slotted her key in the door before stepping inside, and I followed her in. I couldn’t remember ever being so curious to see where someone lived.
8.
Maggie
I was a bundle of nerves as I stepped into my tiny flat. Shay and his dog made it feel even tinier. A ball of tension sat in my gut over telling him about Nigel. I wanted Shay to know how his friend behaved when he wasn’t around, but I also didn’t want to drive a wedge between them, especially because they’d been friends for such a long time.
I flicked the light switch on, then turned to Shay, who stood close to the door looking around. My stomach sank as I wondered what he must think of the place. His house was so cosy, lovingly furnished and cared for, with a pretty front and back garden. By contrast, my flat left a lot to be desired. It was also the first time I’d invited anyone inside. Well, aside from Siobhan. Her flat upstairs was almost a carbon copy of mine in terms of layout. Shay’s eyes wandered over the worn couch and coffee table, lingering for an extra beat on my bed before he returned his attention to me.
“Um, I can take your coat if you like,” I said. “And you can let Daniel off his leash, so long as he doesn’t tear my couch to shreds or pee on the furniture.”
Shay smiled at my attempt at humour and unhooked Daniel from his leash. The dog proceeded to wander around the small space, sniffing everything he came across. I took off my jacket and hung it by the door, then watched as Shay removed his coat. My attention went to the strong, muscular lines of his broad shoulders before I caught myself ogling and glanced away. Shay handed me his coat, and I hung it next to mine.
I gestured to my navy two-seater couch. “You can sit. I’ll just go put the kettle on.”
Shay nodded and sat, Daniel hopping up onto his lap immediately.
In the small nook of my kitchenette, I took a deep breath and tried to calm down. I was incredibly nervous having Shay there, wondering what he thought of the place. Because it was a studio, everything I owned was on display. My bed was only a few feet away from where he sat on the couch. I was vaguely aware of the tap dripping as I took out two cups and set them down in front of the kettle. Suddenly, Shay was behind me, and my breath caught when the warmth of his body hit me. He studied the dripping tap, tilting his head. I watched as he turned it on and off, then knelt to look under the sink.
Was he trying to fix the drip for me?
My heart beat wildly, and my cheeks flushed. I’d never had anyone to fix things when they broke. My landlord tended to ghost me whenever I left messages about repairs. I’d just end up doing a mediocre job myself or simply living with the inconvenience of whatever was broken. The radiator near my bed hadn’t been heating up properly for months, but it wasn’t something I was confident trying to fix, and I couldn’t afford a plumber, so I simply slept with a hot water bottle every night.
Shay emerged from beneath the sink. I wasn’t sure what magic he’d used under there, but the drip had stopped. I was filled with a wave of gratitude when I asked, “You fixed it?”
Shay nodded. I stepped forward on instinct, going up on my tip toes and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “Thank you,” I gushed. “That’s been bothering me for weeks.”
He glanced down at me, and something shifted in his grey-green eyes. When they flicked to mine, my pulse hammered. I suddenly realised that kissing his cheek, though innocent enough, might’ve been a little over the top, given all he’d done was fix a dripping tap. But I’d just been so overcome with gratefulness I’d acted purely on impulse.
He continued to hold my gaze, and there was heat there, something simmering just below the surface. I swallowed thickly, not knowing what to say, when the button on the kettle clicked, signalling the water had boiled. The noise broke me from whatever trance I was in staring at Shay, and I stepped away, clearing my throat.
“So, um, do you like milk in your tea?” I wasn’t looking at him, my insides still all aflutter from the strange moment we’d just shared. I inhaled sharply when his fingers lightly touched my chin, turning my face to his so he could nod. Then he made a small gesture with one hand, which I took to mean, just a little bit. Butterflies filled me at the simple touch.
“Sorry,” I said, shaking my head at myself. “I should look at you when I ask a question. Rookie mistake.” Pausing, I blew out a breath and willed my pulse to calm down. “So, a small drop of milk?”
Again, he nodded, and I smiled. It seemed the more time we spent with one another, the better we were getting at communicating effectively.
I carried the two cups over to the sofa, placing them on the coffee table before taking a seat. Daniel tried to sniff at the cups, but Shay made a soft clicking noise, and the dog settled back down. “He’s a gorgeous dog,” I said as Shay came to sit next to me. The couch was small, which meant our thighs brushed as we sat side by side. “How long have you had him?”
Shay held up eight fingers before lifting his tea for a sip.
“Eight years. That’s a long time. Have you had him since he was a puppy?”
Shay nodded, then pulled out his phone. My pulse quickened when I saw him writing me a message, but I wasn’t as self-conscious or ashamed of my slow reading around him anymore. Shay was always patient as he waited for me to read whatever he’d written.
I took his phone, our fingers touching, causing a zing of awareness to zip through me. I concentrated on what he’d typed.
Dad got him after Mam passed away. We were both still grieving, and he thought a dog would provide some comfort.
When I finished reading, I handed him back the phone. “That was a good idea. They say dogs are nature’s anti-depressant, right?”
Shay nodded, smiled, then gave Daniel’s head a ruffle. The dog looked up at him, eyes shining with love. Something about seeing it made my chest hurt. I wanted someone, animal or human, to look at me that way. Even once.
“I work for this couple,” I continued, needing to distract myself from the hole of yearning inside me. “They have a dog called Noddy. He’s a Labradoodle and so cute and friendly. I swear he has the best life. If reincarnation is real, I want to come back as a rich person’s dog. They get to live in the lap of luxury and never have to work a day in their lives.”
Shay’s eyes crinkled with humour.
“Your dad is a delight by the way. You’re lucky to have a father like him.”
His soft expression said he agreed with me on that. A small silence fell, and I was so hyperaware of his closeness I found myself jumping up. “Oh, you probably want some biscuits for your tea. I’ll go grab some.”
I hurried to the cupboard and pulled out a packet of chocolate digestives before returning to Shay. I offered him one, and he accepted it with a smile. We sat in companionable silence before I heard his phone vibrate. He pulled it out, frowned at the screen, then returned it to his pocket without responding.
“Nigel?” I asked tentatively, and he nodded, looking irritated.
Guilt nipped at me. “I … I probably should’ve kept my encounter with him to myself.”
Shay vehemently shook his head, signalling his disagreement.
“Well,” I went on. “I hope you two can sort things out. I’m sure he’s not all bad, and I know firsthand how alcohol can affect people.”
Shay shot me a questioning look, and I blew out a breath, finding myself opening up. I’d made the decision to let Shay get close, or at least closer than I’d let others get, and that meant telling him things about myself.
“My mother and her boyfriend, Darren, would drink heavily and do drugs together. I only lived with them for a few months after they got together. Then Mam became pregnant with my little sister, Vivi, and Darren decided I should move out and start making my own way in the world. He didn’t like thinking of Mam having a romantic past before him, which was crazy because she’d had a string of boyfriends before he came along. I never knew my father. He wasn’t in my life, but I suppose my presence was a reminder to Darren that Mam had been with other men.” I paused, taking a breath and seeing Shay’s eyes were levelled on me as he listened intently. He typed something on his phone and handed it to me.
I thought your parents were dead?
I shook my head. “No, I … I’m sorry I let you and your dad assume that. I just didn’t want to talk about it. My family history doesn’t exactly make for pleasant conversation.”
Shay nodded, understanding in his eyes as he motioned for me to go on. I cleared my throat.
“Well, anyway, I was only sixteen at the time, but I was probably better off without them. Mam and Darren together were like a whirlwind of destruction, wrecking everything in their path. The only good thing that came from their relationship was my four half-siblings, Vivi, Robbie, Shelly and Eamonn. They live with their foster parents now, but I go to visit them most weekends.” I started to feel self-conscious and stopped speaking to drink some tea.
Was I revealing too much? It was hard to tell. All my life, I’d gone out of my way to keep my past to myself, yet there was something about Shay that had me rambling. The same part of me where the hole of yearning resided contained a section that wanted to be known and accepted by another person. But to be fully known and accepted, I needed to reveal things I wasn’t always comfortable revealing.
I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and noticed Shay’s eyes tracking the movement before I asked, “What about you? Any other siblings besides Ross?”
He shook his head.
“And you’re close to your cousin, Rhys? Your dad said you two work together?”
Shay nodded once again, and I noted the glimmer of frustration in his eyes. I suspected he wanted to say more, but because the sign language he’d taught me was extremely limited he was restricted. More than once when I asked him a question, I noticed his hands rise as if to answer, then he’d catch himself and lower them again.
“I’m sorry,” I told him. “I’m asking you all these questions, and you can’t—”
Before I could finish, he placed his hand on mine, a look in his eyes like he didn’t need me to apologise. My breath caught, and I stared at him, fixated by the way his pupils dilated as he gazed at me. A long silence fell before he finally withdrew his hand. He picked up his cup, drank the last of his tea, then rose and motioned to Daniel. The dog readily stood and waited for his leash to be clipped in.
“Oh, you’re going?” I asked, a tendril of disappointment in my belly. I didn’t want him to leave, not yet at least.
Shay nodded and put on his coat. “Well, thanks for having me to dinner and for walking me home. Oh, and for fixing my drippy tap.” I gave a self-conscious chuckle.
Shay tapped out a message on his phone, then handed it to me. Again, it took a while to read as I pieced together the letters and words. I hated how inept I was because I knew I could do a little better if I put the effort in. I really needed to face my fears and start attending that literacy class.
Thank you for inviting me in and for the tea. And I’d like you to come to dinner on Sundays whenever you can.
My breath caught. He was giving me an open invitation to dinner at this house every week? It sounded too good to be true. Apart from Nigel, Shay’s family had been so kind and welcoming. I didn’t normally get to spend time around people like them.
I glanced at him, a little hesitant. “Are you sure your dad would be okay with that?”
Shay bobbed his head, and a small fizzle of happiness shot through me. “Okay, well, I might not be able to make it every Sunday, but I’ll try my best.”
Who was I kidding? I’d eat dinner at Shay’s house every single day if I could. But I didn’t want to come across too eager. That might scare him off.
He seemed happy enough with my response as he took his phone back. I stepped by him to open the door, then went out into the entryway to open the main door. Shay moved past me, Daniel at his heel, and I almost had a heart attack when he bent down and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead in farewell. His hand gently cupped my cheek, and his lips lingered a moment while my stomach did a somersault. Finally, he drew away, and I instantly missed the connection.
