Ellie was working late, stitching the band on a particularly difficult piece of fabric, when she noticed that the lights in the old dance hall had gone off and that it was suddenly silent. She had been getting used to the sounds of guitars and drums and saxophones from the bands that played in the hall. It had closed down years ago and would form the nucleus for the massive Casey Coleman development but in the meantime it was serving as a temporary concert venue and a rehearsal space for Dublin’s legions of would-be U2 rock bands. She’d heard it was due to be demolished in a week or two. A few minutes later someone began knocking frantically on the shop door. Nervous, she got up from the stool and put down her work to peer outside. A stranger was banging on her freshly painted door. There wasn’t another sinner in the street and she opened it only a fraction, keeping the new chain on the door.
‘Sorry to disturb you, but I wondered if you might have a fuse.’
‘A fuse?’
‘Yeah,’ he shouted through the door. ‘We’ve blown the fuses across the road. Would you have a spare?’
She was sure that there was a box of new fuses somewhere. The lighting guy or the electrician had left them.
‘I think I have some,’ she said as she opened the door wider. ‘I’ll just check.’
Ellie could see longish hair and piercing blue eyes the same colour as the denim shirt he was wearing under his leather jacket. He didn’t look too dangerous, she thought as she opened the door a fraction further, still leaving the chain on.
‘Sorry to come hounding you like this at night, but I noticed your lights from across the street,’ he explained. ‘The lead guitar blew one of the big amps and I’m not sure what happened then. We can’t find any fuses in the dark over there and the Centra up the street and the newsagent’s have shut. The band were just rehearsing.’
‘Band?’
‘Yeah, Rothko.’
‘Hold on and I’ll just look for those fuses.’ She tried to think where they were. Maybe near the fuse box at the back of the shop or where the torch and fire extinguisher were stored. A few seconds later she’d found the packet of fuses and took out three. Holding them in her hand, she realized that she would have to unlatch the door to pass them to him.
He sensed her apprehension.
‘I hope I didn’t scare you,’ he apologized. ‘I didn’t mean to.’
‘It’s all right. Anyways here’s a few fuses.’
‘You’re a life-saver, thanks. I’ll drop you back some new ones tomorrow.’
‘It’s OK. Don’t worry.’ She blushed, realizing that one of the best-looking guys she’d ever spoken to was only inches from her.
He smiled at her as he dropped the fuses into his pocket. ‘Thanks.’
A few minutes later the light and guitar sounds and drumming resumed as Ellie tried to concentrate on finishing the hat. Deciding to call it a night half an hour later, she shut up shop.
It was a lunchtime when she bumped into him next. She was queuing for a sandwich in O’Brien’s and he was coming out of it, holding a caffè latte and a sandwich in one hand.
‘Our saving grace.’ He smiled, recognizing her.
‘It’s Ellie actually,’ she informed him, hoping that he would somehow remember her name.
‘Like above the shop,’ he said with a twinkle in his eye, as she reddened. She was mortified.
‘And I’m Rory, by the way, Rory Dunne.’
Introductions over and standing there in front of him she couldn’t help but notice that he was much taller than her and had a very slight dimple in his right cheek. Stop it, she told herself.
‘Just going to take a break, if you care to join me.’
‘I have to wait for my sandwich.’
‘Then I’ll wait too.’
She cursed herself for ordering a messy tuna and onion on rye but it was too late to change her order and she would just have to eat it in front of him. She watched as the girl wrapped it and gave her change.
‘Well, we can head back to the bowels of the old hall and the wail of two untuned guitars played by a bunch of desperadoes without a musical note in their souls, or take a walk up to the park.’
She laughed. ‘The park please.’
They fell into step side by side, chatting easily as they crossed the busy road, and managed to find an empty park bench beside the lake to sit on.
‘Always love those ducks,’ grinned Rory. ‘Talk a lot of sense, so they do.’
Ellie was amused, for she had come to the same conclusion long ago that the ducks in St Stephen’s Green knew far more about life and what matters than they quacked on.
She asked him about his band as she tried to eat her tuna sandwich in some kind of gracious way.
‘I’m not in a band,’ he protested. ‘I’m their big bad manager.’
He sounded interesting, she thought.
‘I used to sing till I was about fourteen but I literally woke up one morning and my voice was gone.’
‘Gone?’
‘Yep, I got height and hair and hormones overnight but my singing voice was kaput, truly awful and broken. There was my singing career down the tubes before it even got started. So I gathered myself together and since I could play a few notes on the old man’s guitar I reckoned I’d find another way into the music business – I didn’t realize Dublin was full to bursting with would-be Rory Gallaghers and Edges, so I gave that up too. Managing bands was the obvious and the last resort.’
She watched as he ate his sliced beef and mustard sandwich, praying that the tuna sandwich on her lap wouldn’t fall all over the place as she discreetly tried to nibble it. ‘And do you like it?’
‘Some days the guys drive me crazy when they don’t turn up, or forget where they are meant to be. They can be like a load of big babies that need serious handling, but most of the time it’s great.
‘What about you?’ he quizzed, turning his gaze on her. ‘How long have you been working in the hat shop?’
‘The shop has been in the family for years. It was my mother’s but she passed away a while ago and for some mad reason I decided to stay on and run it.’
‘Good for you!’
‘I’m not sure it was the wisest of decisions but I do love it.’
‘We all have to take risks,’ he said, fixing her with his blue eyes. ‘That’s what makes life interesting.’
Ellie swallowed hard, knowing that sitting here talking to an utter stranger over an al fresco lunch in the sunshine was risky.
‘I’d better get back,’ she apologized, standing up.
‘Why don’t you stay longer, chill out for the afternoon?’
‘No, I can’t,’ she said, seriously tempted. ‘I’ve someone collecting a hat at two thirty.’
‘Well, I guess I’ll hang out here with the ducks for another hour, but if you’re free on Friday night the guys are doing a gig and you’re welcome to come along.’
‘Where?’
‘Across the street. It’ll probably be the last in good old McGonagle’s,’ he admitted as he tossed a crust of bread into the lake. ‘Would you like to come?’
Walking back down Dawson Street a few minutes later with a smile plastered all over her face, Ellie could scarcely believe that she had accepted his invitation and was going to spend Friday night with Rory Dunne and Rothko.