Cecelia Ahern - How to Fall in Love

‘How do you know this?’

He looked sheepish. ‘I just know.’

‘Adam,’ I warned, ‘I specifically told you not to talk to her.’

‘And I didn’t. I happened to hear a message on Sean’s voicemail.’

‘How could you happen to hear that?’

‘Because Sean’s an idiot who never remembers to change the pin code for his voicemail. I’ve been listening to his messages since Monday.’

I gasped. ‘I didn’t know you could do that.’

‘So you obviously haven’t changed your code.’

I made a mental note to do it immediately. ‘It doesn’t matter, you listen to my voicemails anyway.’ I thought of the message he had heard and deleted. It was killing me to know what Barry had said, but I couldn’t ask Adam any more than I had and in a way didn’t want to hear the answer. I moved on. ‘So what have the messages said?’

‘He’s worried Maria is a bit distant these days, ever since Sunday when I found out about them, but even more over the past few days. They’ve taken a break, or she’s asked for space, to think.’

‘About you,’ I whispered.

Adam shrugged but there was light in his eyes.

‘Yes, Adam!’ I held my two hands up.

We high-fived and then he pulled me into a hug.

‘Thank you,’ he said into my ear, both arms wrapped tight around my waist.

His breath left goose bumps all over my body.

‘No problem,’ I said, wanting to stay there. I forced myself to pull away. ‘Now let’s get busy.’

‘What are we doing?’

‘You may have given her Paris last year but this year, my dear, you are going to bake her a birthday cake.’

Kitchen in the Castle was a unique cookery course operating from a kitchen in Howth Castle that dated all the way back to 1177. Always a popular venue for date nights and girls’ nights out, this Friday evening was no different. The class was mainly made up of couples, of all ages, with one definite first date. There was also a group of three girls in their early twenties who seemed to get a case of the giggles as soon as Adam walked in.

‘Christine! Yoohoo!’ I heard a woman call my name. She was large and round, with a beaming smile on a pretty and girly face. I had no idea who this woman was.

‘It’s me! Elaine!’

I kept staring at her until finally it sunk in who she was. The last time I’d seen her she had been dressed as Dracula and reading a book to an audience of terrified children. In the last couple of days, since Amelia’s mother had passed on, she’d been helping out in the bookshop.

‘I’m here on a date,’ she whispered so that her date beside her wouldn’t hear. She failed miserably.

I reached out to shake his hand and was instantly sure that the man was gay.

‘I met him at my “How to Fall in Love” class.’

‘Your what class?’

‘Haven’t you heard about it? Goodness, all the girls are going – lots of men too. Which is why I’m going,’ she was still talking sotto voce. ‘That’s how I met Marvin.’ She giggled and pointed at him proudly, then giggled again. This time she snorted and her eyes opened in shock and her hand flew to her nose to stop it from happening again. The twenty-somethings laughed together over what seemed to be a dirty joke or suggestive remark, or at least I imagined it was from the way they were watching Adam. One of them was moving closer to him. He smiled at her.

‘And this is Adam,’ I said loudly, placing a hand on his arm and tugging him closer to me. ‘Adam, this is Elaine. She’s been telling me about the “How to Fall in Love” classes she attends.’

‘Oh, it’s fantastic! The course is run by Irma Livingstone – you know, the woman who writes the …’ her voice dropped ‘… sex books. It’s in the local church hall—’

‘Appropriate,’ interrupted Adam.

‘Yes,’ she continued, not realising what he’d said. ‘And each week we learn tips on how to meet your equal and fall in love, and then we’re encouraged to act out what we’ve learned with other members of the class.’

‘So this is homework?’ Adam said.

‘No, it’s a date,’ she said quickly, defensively.

Marvin looked a little pained.

‘You should come too.’ She nudged me, but seemed unaware of her own strength and shoved me so hard that I flew into Adam, who steadied me again.

‘Yeah, you should go too,’ Adam said, fixing me with a playful smile.

‘If I do, then you’ll be coming with me,’ I said, and his smile disappeared.

‘I heard about what happened with your husband,’ Elaine said in a low voice again. She looked at me pityingly. ‘I met your husband, ex -husband, when I was going to work a few days ago. He told me what happened … and that he was giving you back your golf club. I’m glad it’s been so amicable. It wasn’t like that with me and Eamon – that’s my ex-husband,’ she said, a shadow falling over her usually jolly disposition.

‘My golf club?’ I asked, confused. ‘But I don’t play golf.’

‘Yes, you do,’ Adam said. ‘He left it on the windshield of your car, remember?’

‘He … ohhhh. Right, yes.’ So it had been him.

The cooking instructor welcomed us all to the class and we gathered around a main work bench, our names on stickers on our chests, to watch the display. The more serious couples took notes while Adam and I barely listened, and then it was our turn to start making our cakes. Adam folded his arms and looked at me. He was telling me he was there because he had to be, not because he wanted to be. I took the butter brush and began brushing the pan.

‘So what did you learn today?’ Adam asked Elaine.

‘Today was about falling in love for the right reasons,’ she said earnestly. ‘And how to identify what those reasons are.’

‘Wow. How much does this course cost?’ he asked sarcastically.

Elaine wasn’t stupid. She eyed him suspiciously, a little offended. ‘One hundred and fifty euro for ten weeks. But Irma recommends two courses.’

‘I bet she does.’ He nodded seriously. ‘Christine, are you sure that’s right?’

‘I’ve ended up paying everything I’ve ever owned for love, no point in asking me my opinion,’ I said as I tried to sprinkle flour evenly over the butter in the dish.

‘No, I meant the cake.’ He smiled at me.

‘Oh. She said the butter goes there so that the cake won’t stick, and the flour is so the cake doesn’t get greasy,’ I said, getting frustrated as the flour stuck in uneven patterns to the tray and looked a claggy mess. I really was not enjoying myself. I didn’t like cooking, baking even less so, and instead of Adam experiencing another ‘joy’ of life, I was doing it instead. It was rather joyless.

‘Okay, time for you to do your bit now – make the batter,’ I said, looking for a cloth to wipe my buttery hands on.

Adam was looking at me with an amused expression.

‘What?’ I snapped.

‘Nothing. Just observing you enjoying life, that’s all.’ He returned his attention to Elaine. ‘So what kinds of things did you learn about when she was teaching you how to fall in love for the right reasons?’

Turning her back on her date, Elaine filled us in on her class. ‘Irma says that we think of falling in love as something magical and mysterious that happens to us and we have no control over it, which is why it’s called “falling”. But falling in love happens when a series of events occur with one person.’

She had Adam rapt.

‘And, like anything in your life, if you want it to happen you have to make it happen. You can’t sit on your couch at home and expect to fall in love. You have to be an active participant in the process. Irma teaches us the steps on how to be active in our quest to fall in love.’