‘I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry’
‘I’m sorry too.’
The way he said it started alarm bells ringing; it was the wrong sort of ‘sorry’. It sounded final and defeated. ‘What for?’ I asked, too quickly.
‘Everything. For Karen. The awful months when we didn’t properly talk. For keeping my mouth shut about Delaney and hoping it would go away’
‘It has gone way.’ My breath was short. ‘I swear.’
‘Why did you come to the airport?’
‘Because… ‘How did I say it? How to encapsulate the shift where everything came into focus and Garv was centre? ‘I’d thought it was over with us, I really thought it was gone for ever. Then after seeing you today it all flared up again and every feeling was still there and I knew I’d always take the snail off your windscreen. And not off anyone else’s.’
I finished on a gasp and, as Garv said nothing, my nerves stretched to the limit. I felt like a prisoner waiting to hear the verdict of the jury.
‘Let me put it another way,’ I tried. ‘I love you.’
‘Do you?’
‘Yes, honestly. I mean, of course – would I have gone to the airport and tried to be Meg Ryan otherwise?’
And he surprised me by saying, ‘The flight wasn’t really full – I just said it to try to hold on to the last shred of my self-respect. I got to the airport and thought it was stupid to come all this way and give up so soon.’ He shrugged. ‘I came back to give it one more go with you.’
‘Oh. Oh. Well. Great! Why?’
He looked away to one side as he thought about it, then laughed softly and faced me. ‘Because you’re my favourite.’
‘Well, you’re my favourite.’
‘Make up your own compliments.’
‘Sorry. OK. I love you.’
‘I love you.’
‘Now you’re at it.’
‘That’s because I’ve very little imagination.’
‘That makes two of us. We’ve a lot in common.’
‘Yeah.’
‘What would you have done,’ I asked cautiously, ‘if I hadn’t come home? If I had… you know… stayed with Shay?’
‘Dunno. Gone mad. Started eating lightbulbs.’
‘Well I didn’t, so the lightbulbs are safe.’
‘Yeah.’
‘Yeah,’ I swallowed. And all of a sudden, the way he was looking at me made me nervous and shy. ‘So… um… what happens now?’
‘Well, we’re in Hollywood,’ he said, taking a step closer to me, ‘So… ah… we could drive a car off a cliff?’
‘Or run down a hill in slow motion?’ I shifted nearer until I was close enough to get his delicious Garv smell.
‘Or I could take you in my arms and kiss you until the room starts spinning around.’
‘I like the sound of the kissing,’
I said, barely above a whisper.
‘Me too.’ So we did.
Epilogue
A week later, Larry Savage got the sack from Empire – just came in one morning and without explanation was told to clear his desk, then was escorted off the lot. Par for the course if you’re a movie executive, they say. Emily’s script is languishing on a shelf at Empire and the story of Chip the wonder dog looks likely never to be told. Which would have been a blessing, Emily said, except it also meant she only got paid half of her fee. So great was her fear of turning into the man shouting outside the supermarket that she resolved to get out of the scriptwriting game altogether. But Troy put an end to that by getting financing for an independent production of her newest script. Apparently, it’s brilliant, really dark – Emily says it’s thanks to the fact that she was so depressed and scared while writing it. Some producer from another small studio is interested in reviving Hostage! And one way and another, the wolf is being kept from the door, even if Mrs Emily still hasn’t had a chance to wear her navy, spangledy dress to a première. However, she might get a chance to wear it in the near future. Not to a film première, but to a wedding – Emily and Troy’s. I will admit to having had my doubts over Troy’s fidelity, but since Emily hooked up with him, he’s been a model of good behaviour.
Lou half-heartedly stalked Emily for a couple of weeks, then gave up, but when Kirsty heard about Troy and Emily, she turned to food. Apparently she put on fifteen pounds in as many days. I’d laugh, except it would be mean.
Lara continues to be a great big golden ball of fun. She hasn’t yet found the right girl, but is having a fantastic time looking. Justin is still living a shut-down life with Desiree, but things picked up recently for him when the other expendable fat guy contracted glandular fever and lost a ton of weight.
Reza kicked her husband out and told him to go and live with ‘his whore’. He was back within the week, prostrating himself with contrition.
The poor mad scriptwriter is still hanging around the supermarket shouting set directions at the people buying their groceries.
Luis’s little problem cleared up on the second lot of antibiotics. Himself, Ethan and Curtis finished college, shaved off their goatees, grew their hair (those who were in the habit of shaving their heads) and got respectable. The Dukes of Hazzardmobile was sent to the wrecker’s yard.
Charmaine and Mike are still Charmaine and Mike. Before I left, Charmaine told me my aura wasn’t as toxic as it had been. Occasionally the fable-telling group ring Mum and ask her to come back. She sent them a copy of The Tales of Finn McCool and hopes that they’ll now leave her in peace.
Connie got married and didn’t get kidnapped on honeymoon.
Helen, to everyone’s astonishment, really did set up a private-detective agency when she returned to Ireland. She specializes in ‘domestics’ – i.e., she traps cheating spouses – and she’s kept busy. Anna got on so well in her new job that they promoted her from the bowels of the post room to the bright lights of the front desk. She no longer mentions Shane and apparently she gets the occasional e-mail from Ethan. Sometimes, to upset Mum, she says he’s going to come and visit as soon as he gets time off.
Dad’s neck is better now. So are my relations with him. It took a while, and even longer with my mother.
Dark Star Productions went to the wall, but Shay already has a high-flying new job in another film company. As Claire said – almost admiringly – when she heard, ‘There he goes again. Falling into a pit of shite and coming out smelling of Paloma Picasso.’