CHAPTER 3
Catherine was walking home from work when it started to pour. Reaching the door to her small place, she rushed in and shook off the drops over the hardwood floor. Having just cleaned it that morning, she frowned as she continued to dry herself and placed her jacket on one of the hooks by the door.
“Kathleen?” Catherine yelled.
“Yeah?” her sister called back.
“Will you please order something for dinner?” she yelled again. “I'm in no mood to cook tonight,” she said under her breath.
“Sure thing!”
It had been two years since their trip to Ireland. Accepting the job had proved to be a marvelous opportunity for Catherine. The museum found her to be an invaluable addition. Catherine enjoyed her work, even on a day like today when everything seemed to pile up. She was thankful that Kathleen was living with her now.
Her sister had moved in only a few short months ago. Sometimes it had been lonely without her, though Kathleen was still occasionally selfish and materialistic. Catherine never imagined Kathleen would come back to her rainy new home, but Kathleen was getting divorced from her rich, absent husband. Catherine never understood why Kathleen had taken that path, but she was thankful to see her sister living a healthier life again. The marriage had only lasted a year. Kathleen didn't appear to be in any hurry to move out but was back to dating again. Only casually this time.
Kathleen answered the door to pay when the Japanese food arrived. She turned the delivery guy down when he asked for her number. Kathleen laughed quietly to herself after the door was shut and she carried the food to the kitchen. Catherine came in the kitchen a few moments later already dressed in lounge clothes, dabbing her hair with a towel.
“What's with you?” Catherine asked, seeing her sister's amusement.
Kathleen shrugged.
Halfway through their quiet meal, Kathleen spoke, “wanna go see a movie tonight?”
“Not really.”
“Oh, come on. We could go to the pub after to meet up with some friends?” Kathleen begged.
“My friends, or yours?” Catherine looked up.
“Mine, preferably.”
“In that case, especially no,” Catherine said, bringing the last bite of her Yaki Udon to her mouth. After savoring the noodles, she sighed with satisfaction.
“Okay, okay, yours and mine. I'll compromise.” Kathleen dropped her napkin and crouched down from her perch on a tall stool to pick it up, her red hair falling over her face. She had decided a while ago that her sister was right to keep their natural hair color, and grew it back to its full, natural color and length.
“You? Compromise? Amazing.”
“Please?”
“Please? I'm shocked at how much you've changed in the time you've been here, Kathleen. Fine, I'll go. Just no Abby this time. I can't stand her.”
“Deal.”
A few hours later the two young women were at the cinema, sitting as comfortably as possible in their seats.
“Those my glasses?” Catherine said, noticing her sister set a pair of glasses atop her nose.
“Yeah, I need them, I lost mine,” Kathleen replied. Seeing Catherine's glare, she quickly added, “Oh, don't look at me like that. You don't need them for movies, just for reading.”
“You're borrowing a lot of my things recently. First my jacket, now my glasses . . .”
“Shh, it's starting,” Kathleen whispered.
After the romantic comedy flick, they went to the pub to meet up with a few of their friends. Mostly they had separate acquaintances, but they were both happy to see Bella when she came in.
“So, Cathy, what are we drinking tonight?” Bella smiled brightly.
“I'm having water.”
“Only that?” Bella chided playfully.
“Hmm, lemon too.” Catherine chuckled as Bella stuck her tongue out at her.
Still wearing her sister's glasses, Kathleen cinched Catherine's blue jacket tighter with the belt while standing with a small group of friends on the other side of the pub. Catherine made a mental note to get her glasses back before Kathleen broke them and then turned to the bartender to get a few drinks.
“I'll take two Guinness, and a water with lemon please,” she said.
“That'll be all for ya?” asked the curly-haired bartender, flashing a winning smile.
Catherine couldn't help but laugh a little. “Yes, that will be all for me. Thanks.”
Just then, a man arrived and was making his way toward Kathleen. He was mysterious looking and appeared to be a few years older than the twins—Catherine guessed twenty-seven. He wore plain fitting gray pants and a black T-shirt under a long black trench coat that looked more like a cloak. Though mysteriously dressed, his face was chiseled, and the hair on his head was a curly, dark brown. He held a vague expression that leaned more toward sinister at that moment, and his green eyes held one in their gaze sharply like a wild animal.
Catherine grabbed the drinks. She was unconcerned; guys always came up to Kathleen. It was amazing. Though the two women were twins, men didn't approach her as often. It was like the sleazy ones could tell that Kathleen was flighty. She sat down to wait the guy out and briefly looked around the pub. It was rather large, though quiet at the moment. She admired the old style buildings. It made her feel like even though times changed, some nice things remained the same.
Following Catherine's gaze, Bella looked the man over as well. "Ooh, he's cute," she said quietly.
Catherine nodded.
Bella's brows furrowed. "Though, I think I've spotted him before."
The friends with Kathleen saw the man coming and quieted. She turned around abruptly, startled by his presence.
“Oh!” she gasped. “You scared me.”
The man didn't say anything in response, he just looked right through her, focused on something else in his own mind. He took one of her hands roughly and tried to forcefully pull her to the door. “You need to go.”
Kathleen let out a muffled yelp. “Ouch! You're hurting me!”
Several of her friends stood up to stop him, but Catherine beat them to it. She shoved the taller man back, releasing Kathleen from his grasp. Catherine glared at him, flames in her eyes.
“What do you think you're doing?” she shouted angrily.
He ignored her and repeated to Kathleen, “You need to go . . . Catherine, you mu—”
“Catherine? I'm not Catherine.” Kathleen interrupted while rubbing her hand carefully.
The man grew puzzled.
“I'm Catherine,” she said, still livid.
“You . . .” He looked down at her.
“Need to go? You said that already. That's what you need to do, and apologize to my sister right now.”
“I thought . . . I'm sorry,” was all he said. Catherine thought his Irish accent sounded strange.
Kathleen simply nodded in return. Patting Catherine's shoulder, she sat with their friends who had calmed and followed suit.
Catherine raised an eyebrow, continuing to glare at the strange man. “What's this about?” she asked, her tone annoyed.
“Just get out of here, out of Ireland,” he said.
“What?” She jutted her chin out. “Why?”
He stood there with a serious expression for a few seconds. “Because if you don't, you'll unleash them.”
“What?”
He turned and strode out the door.
Catherine stood there, dumbfounded. Kathleen got up from her seat and gripped Catherine's shoulder. Catherine looked to see her glasses folded up in the palm of Kathleen's hand.
“Here. Take them back. I'll give you the jacket when we get home,” Kathleen said with a frown.
“Okay.”
“I never want to be mistaken for you again,” she said, then sat back down.
Catherine smiled to herself. At least one good thing had come out of this strange experience.
Bella carried over the drinks then. "That was simply crazy," she said.
The food that had been ordered by the group arrived after that, and Catherine was almost able to enjoy herself with their friends. But she had not forgotten what the strange and rude man had said. What did he mean? Was he simply nuts? She was mostly concerned that he might be loitering outside the pub, ready to pounce when she and her sister left.
Kathleen had certainly forgotten it after the first drink, now laughing with her friends. Catherine began to wonder if Kathleen's proclamation tonight would stick. She did worry for her sister sometimes.
If this man was stalking her, then Kathleen was, as tonight's events showed, also a target. Catherine decided she'd have Kathleen report the incident to the Gardaí in the morning. In the meantime, she tried to think of who the man could be. Was he connected with someone at work? Did she pass him regularly on the street? She couldn't be sure. Though something about him did seem familiar, and oddly alluring. She didn't think she'd spoken to him before. These thoughts continued to buzz the rest of the night, so much so that, by the end of it, she was quite ready to leave and hurry home.