Marian Keyes - Lucy Sullivan Is Getting Married by Marian Keyes

him. "And on your recommendation. That was the night you wouldn't let me take out Sleepless in Seattle."

    "Aha!" he said triumphantly. "But what about Cinema Paradiso, The Dir- ector's Cut?" lucy sullivan is getting married / 85

    "Seen it."

    "Jean de Florette?" he asked hopefully.

    "Seen it," I said.

    "Babette's Feast?"

    "Seen it."

    "Cyrano de Bergerac?"

    "Which version?"

    "Any of them."

    "Seen them all."

    "La Dolce Vita?"

    "Seen it."

    "Something by Fassbinder?"

    "No, Adrian," I said, fighting back despair, but trying to sound firm. "You never let me take out anything I want. I've seen every cult and foreign film that you stock in here. Please, please, just this once, let me watch something lighthearted.... That's in English," I added hastily, before he attempted to find me something lighthearted in Swedish.

    He sighed.

    "Well, okay," he said sadly. "Four Weddings and a Funeral it is. What have you got for your dinner?"

    "Oh," I said, thrown slightly by the abrupt change in subject.

    "Give up your bag," he said.

    I reluctantly put my bags up on the counter.

    This was a ritual that Adrian and I usually went through. A long time ago he had confessed to me that his job made him feel very isolated. That he never had his meals at the same time as anyone else. And that it made him feel as though he still belonged to the real world if he kept in contact with the nine-to-fivers and what they did with their evenings and, more specifically, what they ate.

    Normally I had a lot of sympathy for him, but that 86 / marian keyes

    evening I wanted to get out of the outside world and be alone with my chocolate and my wine so that I could revel in the complete absence of any other human beings.

    Also I was ashamed of the high-sugar, high-saturated-fat, low-protein, low-fiber purchases.

    "I see," he said, poking through my carrier bags. "Chocolate, chips, wine--the chocolate will melt if you leave it next to the chips, you know--are you feeling a bit depressed?"

    "I suppose," I said, trying to smile, trying to be polite. While every atom in me ached to be at home, with the door locked behind me.

    "Poor you," he said kindly.

    Again I tried to smile, but I wasn't able. For a moment I thought I might tell him about the whole me-getting-married fiasco, but I couldn't find the energy.

    Adrian was sweet. Really sweet. And cute, I realized vaguely. And I kind of thought that he had a crush on me. Maybe I should consider him, I thought halfheartedly. Maybe that's what Mrs. Nolan meant when she told me that at first I may not recognize my future husband.

    Then, with a little burst of irritation, I realized that even I had started to believe Mrs. Nolan, that I was just as bad as Megan and Meredia. Angrily, I told myself to get a grip, that I wasn't marrying anyone and certainly not Adrian. It would never work.

    To begin with, there were financial considerations. I wasn't sure what kind of money Adrian was earning, but it couldn't have been much--it certainly couldn't have been much more than the pittance I earned. I cer- tainly wasn't mercenary, but face it, I thought--how could we possibly keep a family on our combined incomes? And what about our children? Adrian seemed to work twenty lucy sullivan is getting married / 87

    hours a day, seven days a week, so they'd never even get to see their dad.

    In fact, I'd probably never get to see him long enough for him to actually impregnate me. Oh well.

    Adrian had keyed in my account number, which he knew by heart and was telling me that I owed a late charge for something that had been taken out ten days previously and hadn't yet been returned.

    "Really?" I asked, turning pale at the thought of the amount I owed and the fear that I might never actually get out of that shop.

    "Yes," he said, looking concerned. "That's not like you, Lucy."

    He was right. I never did anything risky. I was far too afraid of annoying someone or of being told off.

    "Oh God," I said in alarm. "I