I bought everything I liked. I passed over my bank card while Sue pirouetted with excitement. ‘Just one more place I have to take you,’ she said.
I was exhausted and the shopping bags were heavy.
We exited the lift on the top floor and Sue took me towards what turned out to be a beauty salon. ‘Hair, nails, facial, lashes, eyebrows, make-up – I think you should do the lot.’
We were outside the door. I stopped. ‘Why?’
‘Don’t get me wrong, you’re beautiful, but wouldn’t you like to see what you look like with a different hairstyle, a few blonde streaks or a curly blow-dry? I don’t even know what your hair looks like when it’s loose. Is it very long? Facials are so relaxing. This is a way to pamper yourself.’
‘No thank you, Sue, I don’t mind changing my clothes but I don’t want to change the way my head looks.’
‘Aren’t you curious?’
‘No.’
‘Oh Sally, please? Let them style your hair. If you don’t like it, you can pin it straight back up. Treat yourself.’
I could feel myself becoming agitated. I raised my voice. ‘I said no.’
Sue’s face flushed. She was annoyed. ‘I booked us both treatments. I’m going in for a facial and to get my eyelashes done. Do you want to wait in the car?’
‘Yes please.’
She threw the car keys at me. ‘Level 1 in the elevator. Car Park A.’ She swung open the door of the salon and disappeared behind smoked glass.
I couldn’t tell how I had failed on this occasion. We had never mentioned hair and make-up and tinting eyebrows when we planned this trip. It was purely about clothes shopping. What did Sue mean about it being a ‘treat’？ How is it a treat if I don’t want it and was never asked about it? Did she think my hair was awful? Were my eyebrows the wrong colour? I liked them. Tina said I was handsome and elegant. Sue had just said I was beautiful. I knew I was chubby but I didn’t mind. Why would I change my appearance?
When Sue returned to the car, I was ready with my explanation, but before I could start it, I noticed her eyelashes. ‘Wow,’ I said, ‘they’re amazing!’
‘You could have –’
‘Look, Sue, I’m sorry but I think we misunderstood each other. I love your eyelashes and I’m glad it makes you feel good, but I’m different. All these clothes are enough change for me. I like my hair the way it is. I don’t want to change my face or my nails or my hair. I hope you understand. It was kind of you to offer, but I’m not the same as you. I never will be.’
‘It’s fine,’ she said, but in a voice that said it wasn’t fine. ‘I’m guessing you won’t want to have lunch here either?’
I gritted my teeth and for a moment regretted the decision to undeaf myself. There were no misunderstandings when people thought I couldn’t hear them.
‘I’d prefer not to, if that’s okay. Is there anywhere near here that would be quieter and less bright?’
‘I know a place,’ she said, and reversed out of the car space.
Five minutes later, we were in a cafe in the grounds of a city farm, Airfield House. It was bright, but suffused with natural light, not strobe and neon. The other customers were either elderly people or mothers with pushchairs and small children. I chose a table at the back.
Sue’s face was still tight. I wasn’t sure how I could fix this and I didn’t want to lose another friend, although Caroline from the Texaco was no great loss.
For a minute or two we ate silently, and then Sue exhaled in a loud sigh. ‘You’re right,’ she said, ‘I don’t understand, and it’s unfair of me to blame you. I think the fault is mine, expecting you to want to change and experiment. I find it hard sometimes, to get a handle on you, to get inside your head.’
‘Same here.’ I nodded enthusiastically, and we laughed together, a voluntary laugh, because we knew that trying to ‘be’ each other was silly and pointless.
We chatted about the clothes we had both bought, and what occasions were most suitable for the many outfits I had.
‘And that mini skirt and sparkly top, that’s for flirting.’
‘Sue, you know I won’t be doing that.’
‘You must open yourself to the possibility! Mark is obviously interested.’
‘Well, I’ve made it clear to him that nothing’s going to happen.’
‘And yet he drove from Carricksheedy to Dublin and back so that you wouldn’t feel uncomfortable at a funeral? Come on! He likes you.’
I had already confided my belief that I was asexual to Sue. I said nothing.
‘How’s the touch therapy going?’
‘Good. I can offer and accept hugs now. Shaking hands is mostly fine, though I wish people wouldn’t do it immediately after blowing their noses.’
‘But this time last year, you would have thought that impossible. Has your therapist talked to you about masturbation?’
‘She has mentioned it. Tina wants me to spend ten minutes looking at myself in a full-length mirror every night, and then next week, I think I’m supposed to start caressing all the different parts of my body, as long as I’m comfortable.’
‘It’s such a shame that you’re asexual.’
‘No, it’s not. I’ve seen sex scenes on television. The moaning and screaming is off-putting. Have you noticed that in comedy films the women always scream and the men grunt, and in romantic films the women moan and the men breathe hard. Which one is right?’
‘Oh God, I’m not qualified for this conversation, but I can promise you that there’s no wrong or right way. When it happens, you go with the flow.’
‘It’s never going to happen, Sue.’
‘Poor Mark.’
‘He’s interested in somebody else.’
‘What a shame.’
‘Not for me.’
Sue laughed again. I wondered how Mark and Anubha were getting on. I hadn’t seen them together and Anubha rarely mentioned him when we met.
I paid for lunch and for petrol and chocolate when we stopped on the way home. Sue played some pop music and she taught me the lyrics to some songs by Adele and Hozier. I thought I’d probably be able to pick out the tunes on the piano later. They weren’t Bach, but they were pleasant enough. ‘You have a nice singing voice,’ said Sue.
‘Mum used to encourage me to sing when I was a teenager, but I’m out of practice.’
‘You could take lessons or join a choir?’
‘Honestly, between therapy and yoga and learning to caress myself, I’ve enough on my plate.’
‘There’s a great choral group in Roscommon. It’s another way to meet people. Would you be afraid to sing in front of other people?’
‘No, I don’t think so. Easier to sing than talk about myself.’
‘Mention it to Tina, I bet she’d encourage it.’
‘I might.’
Sue reached across and squeezed my hand. ‘Your future is so exciting.’
I squeezed her hand back and we grinned at each other briefly before she focused her eyes on the road ahead.
The estate agent phoned. ‘Great news,’ he said. ‘We have had a lot of interest in your property, or as I suspected, in your site. Three main bidders at the moment: a developer, Morgan Homes, wants to build fifty townhouses. The pharmaceutical plant that’s moving into Mervyn Park want a lower density housing development for their executives and employees, and a German supermarket are also keen. You have an acre of road frontage. I haven’t had this much interest in Carricksheedy in my life!’