“Hey!”
“Hey yourself. Get changed before I strip your clothes off myself.”
“Always trying to get me outta my knickers,” I mutter to myself, but I strip and try on the clothes. The top is perfect. It instantly accentuates my curves, hides the lumpy bits, and the soft ivory fabric’s as soft as butter.
“Love it,” he mutters, tossing it in the pile. “Go on, now.”
As I keep trying things on, I’ve got an odd feeling, even with him with me. It takes me a moment to realize it’s the familiar feeling that someone’s watching me.
I shake my head and turn back to changing, slipping into a pair of jeans and a red top.
Was that my imagination? Cormac’s phone rings and he scowls at it.
“Goddamn it,” he says. “I have to take this.” He gestures for Maeve or Caitlin, but they’re too far away. The baby’s crying and they’re trying to soothe him.
“Take your call,” I say. “I’m fine. For goodness sakes, there isn’t a soul in here.” The only other person in this section of the store is a clerk in the back, rustling about unpacking boxes.
“Fine,” he says, scowling at the changing room as if he expects someone to materialize out of the mirror or something. So damn overprotective. I roll my eyes when he finally leaves and takes the call.
I glance at myself in the mirror, at my slightly rounded belly and fuller breasts. How much will my body change? It seems like some sort of foretelling of things to come. The recent days I’ve spent wondering who I am, begging the question… where do I belong here? Who am I now?
I grab the hem of my shirt to take it off. This one will come home with me, thanks to Cormac’s generous plastic. Maybe I’ll get two.
I get dressed in the clothes I came in and look around for my bag. Where the hell is it? I open the door to the changing room and look around. Cormac’s by the door near Maeve and Caitlin, speaking angrily into his phone with it tucked up against his ear.
He looks my way and I give him a quick wave. I’m fine. We’re fine.
He points outside, and I nod, waving my hand for him to go. The door to the shop shuts, I turn back to the changing room and go to gather my belongings when I feel someone tug my arm.
Before I can open my mouth to scream, I’m tugged back into the changing room by a woman with flaming red hair.
She slams the door to the room and puts her hand to my mouth. I try to shove her off. What the hell is she playing at?
“Hush. It’s about your sister!”
I blink. “Let go of me.” I yank my arm away from her. “Who are you?”
“Get Cormac to take you to the club,” she hisses. “I’ve got vital information to relay to you but we aren’t safe here.”
“Which club?” I ask her. “What are you talking about?”
“He’ll know,” she says, looking over my shoulder, but the door’s shut fast. “He’ll know exactly what I mean. Ask him to take you to the club, tonight. I’ll meet you there, and tell you what I need to. It’s about your mother. She needs your help. It’s about your future.”
She puts her hand on the door and turns it. “Now go, go out and pretend like nothing ever happened, and meet me at the club tonight.”
“Aileen?”
Her eyes widen at Cormac’s voice right outside the door. “Go,” she mouths.
I open the door and stumble out. He’s standing by the entrance, shaking his head, distracted. “Y’alright?” he asks. I walk out of the changing room toward him, blindly handing him the items I want to buy.
For one moment, I consider opening the door and telling him what she did, but he’ll cause a scene in here. And what if my sister sent her? I’m disoriented and confused, and need to think about what she just told me.
Was she following me? She knows who I am, clearly. Who is she? And what does she have to tell me?
“Aileen,” Cormac repeats. “Are you ok?”
“Fine,” I lie. I was just accosted by a woman who told me to get to the club tonight. If I tell him, he’ll find her, and then what? I won’t know what she’s talking about, what she means, unless I go.
And what is this club, anyway?
I have too many questions to ignore what she’s said. Still, I feel a bit nauseous and unsettled about all of this. I shake my head and walk with him.
“Was everything okay?” I ask, speaking quickly, so he doesn’t suspect anything. “You took that phone call and left so quickly.”
“Fine,” he says. “But I’ll have to get back home soon.”
Maeve comes up to me and admires the little dress and tops I picked out. I ask Caitlin if I can hold the baby, and she gives me a smile as she hands me the little one. He’s wrapped in a baby blue blanket and has finally fallen asleep. I hold him to me, to soothe my pounding heart and my fraught nerves, and my mind teems with questions, with no rhyme or reason.