I remembered my conversation with Mark at Udo and Martha’s party. ‘My fear of sex and relationships. That might come from witnessing things. I’ve found Google helpful, Tina, and I know you won’t approve, but I don’t think I’m socially deficient. Emotionally, I’m a child. Who says what they think all the time? Children. Who doesn’t consider sex or relationships at all? Children.’
‘Sally, it’s never a good idea to self-diagnose, but there may be something in what you are saying. Though you are certainly not socially deficient or childlike.’
I told her about the party and my conversation with Mark.
She was quiet for a moment. ‘This Mark, he knows your history, yes?’
‘As much as everyone with Google does.’
‘Do you think he might have been sounding you out because he was interested in you – romantically, I mean?’
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
‘Well, isn’t it obvious? I’m damaged.’
‘That’s not obvious at all, Sally. If I saw you in a bar or at a party, I would think you were a handsome woman. And since you started doing yoga, there is a lightness to your movements.’
‘I’m more aware of my core, I’ve been working on that.’
‘You have a lovely face. You look years younger than you are. Not a single grey hair. No wrinkles.’
I winced. ‘Yes, like a child.’
‘No, like a good-looking adult.’
‘But I told him I didn’t ever want to have sex, in front of the whole room. And I think people were shocked.’
She paused and asked me to breathe deeply for a minute.
‘You seem to be comfortable with your asexuality. Do you now think that’s something to be ashamed of?’
I hadn’t thought of that. Asexual.
‘But, Tina, I did imagine having sex with Harrison Ford, quite a lot.’
She smiled. ‘I think we’ve all done that. Sally, I’m not a sex therapist but –’
‘That’s okay. I don’t need sex or want it or miss it. I don’t even masturbate. I think you’re right. I’m asexual. That’s a relief.’
‘Why do you feel relieved?’
‘I like labels. Socially deficient. Asexual.’
‘You are not deficient. But maybe don’t talk about your sexuality with people you don’t know well. It’s a personal thing.’
‘Do you have a lot of sex?’ I was curious.
‘I’m not answering that. It’s personal and private.’
‘Okay, I get it.’
After that, we did some touch therapy. I allowed Tina to brush out my hair. It was surprisingly relaxing. She was shocked that I had never been to a hair salon. I always cut my own hair and tied it up in a bun. It was easier that way. Then she massaged my shoulders for a little while. I didn’t see the point of that.
As I was leaving, she reminded me again about the breathing exercises, and managing my anger. ‘Easier said than done,’ I said.
‘Don’t break things. Don’t strike out at anyone, unless you’re in danger from them. Just breathe through it. Play your piano.’
We had run over our time but I had to ask her. ‘Do you think I could be a piano teacher if I haven’t got any qualifications?’
‘I think so, but you would probably have to get garda clearance first in order to work with children. Teaching requires a great deal of patience, but you’ve been learning that, every time, in this room. Garda clearance might be tricky, though, because of the incident with your dad’s remains. Let’s wait a while?’
That afternoon, I went to meet Sue and Mark for coffee. The waitress took orders without having to write them down. I could do that, but I couldn’t work in a place with such awful music playing. She smiled at everyone she talked to. I struck waitressing off my mental list of possible jobs.
Mark joined me first and, as he sat down, Sue came in. There was a lot of what I now know is called ‘small talk’ before the smiling waitress presented us with menus. Sue handed me a Jamie Oliver recipe book, and I gave her a sheaf of pages, recipes I had printed from the BBC Food website, plus the ones I’d copied from Caroline at the Texaco.
‘So you like to cook?’
‘Well, it passes the time, but it was better when Dad was alive, because there was someone to appreciate it.’
‘You should have a dinner party!’ said Mark.
I didn’t know what to say about that, so I changed the subject.
‘How is everything at Mervyn Park?’ I asked.
Sue’s husband, Kenneth, and Mark both worked there. Mark looked after the payroll systems.
‘I keep asking him to give Kenneth a pay rise,’ said Sue.
‘You know I would if I could. I’m guessing the company will only turn a profit in the fifth year of operations if we’re lucky.’
‘I’m only teasing, Mark,’ said Sue.
‘How about your job hunt? Anything on the horizon?’ Mark asked me.
‘It’s hard,’ I said, ‘I’m forty-four and I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up.’ That was my little joke, but neither of them laughed.
‘Ten-year-old Mark wanted to be a detective,’ said Mark.
‘I wanted to work in fashion,’ Sue said.
‘I think I only want to play the piano. I’m good at it.’
‘Really?’ said Mark. ‘Do you compose or just play?’
‘Sometimes I make up short little pieces, but I prefer to play. Debussy, Bach, John Field.’
‘Maybe you can play for us at your dinner party?’ said Mark, winking at Sue.
‘Oh, wouldn’t that be lovely?’ she said.
‘I don’t know. I’ve never had a party.’
‘Never? Not even when you were a child?’
Mark blinked slowly and Sue put her hand over her mouth.
‘Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean … I wasn’t thinking. I heard about … when you were a kid.’
‘I know, I asked Martha to explain when I left her party on Saturday.’
Mark looked at me earnestly. ‘I wish you hadn’t left in a hurry like that. There was nothing to be embarrassed about.’
‘Mark, are you interested in me romantically?’
Two red marks appeared on Mark’s pale cheeks.
‘Woah,’ said Sue, ‘should I leave you two alone?’
‘No, please, I need to know. I discussed it with my therapist. And I think you’re flirting with me. I’m not sure, though. I’ve never had this kind of attention from a man.’
Before Mark had a chance to reply, Caroline from the Texaco was banging her fist on the window and shouting something at me.
‘What the hell?’ said Sue as Caroline barged her way through the door and straight over to our table.
‘You bitch!’ she snarled. ‘I’ve been fired from my job, because the woman who fucking incinerated her own father told my head office that I was racist.’
‘I called your head office,’ said Mark. ‘I was there when you said those things about our friends. Don’t blame Sally. It was me.’
‘I rang them to confirm the details,’ I said.