Free The Last Goodbye by Caroline Finnerty Page B

whole thing is a damp squid. I said it all along but Smithy was too far up the board’s arse for anyone to notice. It’s such a complete waste of money.”
“It’s ‘damp squib’ actually,” Ben said.
“What?” Will looked at him irritably as if he was a fly on his arm that he couldn’t manage to swat.
“The phrase – it’s ‘ damp squib ’ not ‘squid’.”
“Whoa there, teacher boy!” Will raised his hand to Ben. “Relax, would you, mate – you seriously need to get out more.” He put the glass to his lips and drank more than half of it back in one gulp.
We all sat in awkward silence until Nat pushed back her chair and got up to serve up the main course. I got up to help her.
Soon we were busy eating the overcooked pork belly.
“This is great, Nat,” Will said.
“Are you sure it’s okay? I won’t be offended if you can’t eat it.”
“Once you cut away the burnt bits it’s great,” I said.
It was after midnight by the time we finished the lemon meringue pie that she had made for dessert.
“That was amazing, Nat – I’m stuffed,” Ben said.
“You did really well – you’re not just a pretty face. Sorry again for being late, sweetheart.” Will put his hand over hers on the table and gave it a squeeze.
When Nat got up from the table and started clearing plates, Will stood up to help her.
“Can we do anything? I feel bad looking at you two cleaning up,” I said, standing up.
“Sit down, Kate – you’re our guests for heaven’s sake!” Will said.
Nat cleared the leftovers into the bin and then passed the plates to him to stack beside the sink. There was something about them working together, doing the most banal of chores. Even I had to admit that there was a certain tenderness between them.
To look at them there, they were like any ordinary couple that had invited friends around for a bite to eat and were now doing the clearing-up. I found myself wondering if Will helped out like that at home. I seriously doubted it – I’m sure, with his money, he had cleaning staff to take care of things like that.
When they had finished the dishes, Nat made Irish coffees for everyone, while I just had a regular coffee. I needed it – the meal had made me sleepy. I was trying hard to stifle my yawns. They sat back down at the table again and Will topped up everyone’s glass with more wine. He sat back and draped his arm over Nat’s shoulders.
I watched them, relaxed in each other’s company, as we chatted. The lamplight glinted off Nat’s hair so you could see its reddish tones. They were a good-looking couple – they matched each other in the beauty stakes. His six-foot-two height complemented Nat’s five-foot-ten. When you were out with them, eyes naturally followed them. They attracted attention wherever they went.
“Would anyone like the last slice of pie?” Nat asked.
“Maybe Kate would like it – she’s eating for two after all?” Will suggested.
“God no, I’m grand.”
“I love the way you still say ‘I’m grand’ after fifteen years living here,” Ben teased.
“What part of Ireland are you from?” Will asked.
“Mayo, in the west.”
“Do you go home much?”
I squirmed on my chair. “Now and again.”
I could see Ben looking at me open-mouthed. I shot him a look.
“My mum was Irish,” Will said.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, she was from this tiny little village called Inistioge in County Kilkenny.”
“Oh, gorgeous spot.”
“Yeah. We went over there once on holidays when I was thirteen and, coming from a council estate in Slough to a farm in rural Kilkenny, I thought we’d arrived in the most backward place on Earth. The first day we arrived I witnessed a man sticking his hand up inside a cow’s you-know-what to artificially inseminate her!” He laughed.
“ Euggghhh! ” Nat said.
“But it wasn’t all bad. I did have my first kiss there . . .”
“Oh yeah?” Nat said sitting up.
“Yeah, her name was Cathy. A fiery little thing she was – jet-black hair