Tonight. Nine o’clock. The usual place.

My brain goes into overdrive as I quickly shove the phone back in his pocket and try to make his jacket look like it hasn’t been interfered with. What the hell is that message about? I come to the nauseating conclusion that it sounds a lot like a booty call. A night time meet-up. The usual place. God, is Jay seeing someone as well as me?

Instantly, my heart plummets from the lofty heights to which it had previously been soaring.

A second later he walks back out, grabbing his coat and shrugging into it. Leaning across the table, he gives me a soft, momentary peck on the lips before telling me he’ll see me later for dinner. I don’t even have the capacity to worry about Dad seeing the kiss because I’m still focused on the message.

It takes a couple of deep breaths for me to gather myself and sneak a peek into Dad’s office. He’s furiously typing into his computer, oblivious to the world, so it’s likely he didn’t see the kiss.

For the next few hours I mindlessly complete my work for the day, but the question about the text remains at the forefront of my mind. I need to know what it was about. I need to know it’s entirely innocent and that I have nothing to worry about. So I decide there’s nothing else for it.

I’m going to have to follow him.

Twenty-Three

As soon as I get out of work, I head for the bus and call Michelle. I haven’t spoken to her since Jessie’s party on the weekend.

“Well, hello, stranger,” she croons into the phone.

“Hey, how are you?” I reply, trying to sound chirpy.

“I’m okay. Well, I’m still a little hung over, actually. I ended up spending the entire weekend at Jessie’s place. I’m telling you, that girl knows how to keep a lady occupied. I know I’d had my sights set on the blond guy. Ben, I think his name was. But he vamoosed with his friend Stuart after Jay punched him for dancing with you, so that was a dead end. Anyway, I only left her place this morning and had to go straight to work. One of my colleagues pointed out that I had ‘freshly fucked’ hair. I was, like, mortified dot com.”

“Michelle.”

“Yes, Matilda?”

“That’s a delightful story, but please don’t use mortified dot com ever again.”

She laughs loudly down the line. “Fine. So, what happened with you and Jay? And don’t say ‘nothing.’ I swear to God, if you say ‘nothing,’ I will find a way to teleport through this phone so I can strangle you.”

“Stuff happened, but we’ve agreed to take it slow. I really like him,” I gush, unable to hold back.

“Well, well, well! The girl who doesn’t like any man finally finds a man she likes,” says Michelle, sounding a mixture of smug and pleased.

“I didn’t not like any men. They just didn’t like me.”

“Oh, shush. None of that matters. Now you’ve got the bad-boy hunk to end all bad-boy hunks, so who cares about past failures? I have to say, I’m feeling a touch of the green-eyed monster coming on.”

“I thought you were all loved up with Jessie?”

“Loved up? Please. It’s just sex with the two of us. She knows it. I know it. We’re both fine and dandy with the concept. Now, back to you and Jay. Has he gone down on you yet?”

“Michelle!”

“What?”

“Where are you right now?”

“In the queue at Boots. I had to stock up on shampoo and conditioner. Why?”

“This is not a phone conversation you should be having in the queue at Boots. So, let’s wait until we see each other in person to talk about…those sorts of details. Right now I need your advice on something else.”

“Okay. I’m intrigued. Continue.”

I tell her about THE TEXT. Yes, over the past few hours it has become such a huge issue in my head that I now have to refer to it in all caps. Michelle listens and then mulls it over for a moment.

“Okay, I don’t think you should follow him.”

“Why not? It’s the only way I’m going to find out.”

“Eh, how about asking him?” she suggests, and I decide to let her sarcasm slide.

“Because, that would require me to be a mature adult, and it would also require me to admit to snooping on his phone. I’m not prepared for any of that. At least if I follow him, I’ll know for certain. If it’s a booty call, I can be all, We are over, sir! I said, good day! And then flounce off to nurse my wounded pride. If it’s something normal, like he’s meeting up with an old friend for tea and crumpets, I can nod approvingly to myself and scurry home happy that all is well with the world. Jay will be none the wiser of this highly bunny boiler activity that’s going on with me right now.”

Michelle groans. “Oh, God, Matilda. Please don’t follow him. It’s only going to end in tears.”

“Saying stuff like that only makes me want to follow him more. It makes me want to know why there will be tears.”

“Can’t you just take my word for it?”

“I will consider my options. My bus is coming now, so I need to go. I’ll talk to you later.”

“You’re going to do it. I can tell.”

“’Bye!”

I hang up before she has the chance to dissuade me further. I’m doing this. I’m going to live up to the nickname Jay gave me, and I’m going to do some sleuthing. If anything, it’s his own fault for coming up with the nickname in the first place.

After dinner Dad offers to wash up, and I go to catch some soaps on the television. Jay saunters in and drops down beside me, too close, considering Dad could walk in at any moment. And yes, I’m quite aware of the fact that I’m an adult. It’s just that Jay is such an obviously sexual person, which means if I tell Dad we’re together, he’ll know we’re doing sexual things together. Just the thought of it makes me feel like crawling out of my own skin.

Yes, when it comes down to it, I’m a baby. A big, stupid, embarrassed baby.

Jay sits there all casual for a minute before randomly leaning in and licking me on the face. I laugh and wipe at my skin.

“What was that for?”

“Just felt like it.”

“Okay.”

“I have to go out for a little while soon,” he says, his voice lowering a notch. “Can I come visit you later?”

“You mean like how you visited me last night?” I ask, one eyebrow raised, a half smirk on the go.

“Kind of like that. Perhaps there’ll be a little more activity this time.”

Well, I don’t need to be a sex addict to know what that means. This is good news. If he’s planning to “pay me a visit” later, then it’s likely that the mysterious meetup isn’t a booty call. Shivers break out on my skin when he leisurely runs a finger down my arm.

“Maybe you can visit me then,” I tell him quietly.

Dad walks into the room at that moment, and Jay quickly draws away. Dad doesn’t notice a thing, sitting down in his armchair and flicking through the channels with the remote. Later on, I put on some dark clothes and find an old knitted hat to wear on my detective adventures. You know, so that I’m inconspicuous and all that. I have a taxi idling by the curb just as Jay leaves. I follow soon after him and hop into the taxi, telling the driver to follow Jay’s car.

The driver is a nosy one.

“Well,” he declares, “isn’t this all very mysterious.” If I’m not mistaken, there’s a touch of dry humour in his tone.

I scoff. “You don’t get out much, do you” — I crane my neck to look at his I.D. stuck to the dash — “Mr Paul Donnelly?”

He eyes me through the mirror and goes quiet then. I’m satisfied that I won the sarcasm war. The journey isn’t long. Jay drives out toward the docklands, finally turning into an old abandoned building site left over from the Celtic Tiger days. When the recession hit, there were a bunch of building projects that got left half-finished, effectively creating a sort of spooky ghost-town vibe.

“You can let me out here,” I say, handing the driver some money.

He gives me a concerned look. “Are you sure? There can be a lot of dodgy types out here, love.”