Claire settled back into Murphy and Byrne’s, presenting a delighted Sheila with a bottle of champagne from the crate in her living room.
‘You and Kevin enjoy it.’
Sheila Sweeney thought what a nice girl that young one really was, even if she didn’t eat a pick and needed serious feeding up to put a bit of weight on her.
Someone had put her daisy hat photo up on the staff noticeboard, and everyone who passed her desk congratulated her. Even grumpy old Arthur Roberts, one of the senior executives, had stopped to express his good wishes and to mourn the fact that she hadn’t mentioned the company name when she gave them her details. Claire had said nothing. Honestly, as if she was going to tell anyone where she worked!
‘Thanks,’ she said, putting her head down to concentrate on the reams of figures she was meant to be inputting into the computer.
‘Claire, your modelling agency is on the phone for you,’ Sheila announced about an hour later, so loud that half the office heard and were glued to their desks with curiosity.
‘Just phoning to say I loved the photo,’ purred Elaine. ‘Front page of the Irish Times, well done. It couldn’t be better. Fought off a lot of hot competition from the other agencies and a few big names too, so I heard.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Anyway, there’s a chance of a new spring water ad coming up. You’ll have to meet the casting director but he’s keen.’
‘That’s great,’ gushed Claire, not believing that all this was happening.
‘I’ll be back in touch with the details.’
She sat at her computer feeling stunned. For the first time the agency had actually phoned her. She still couldn’t believe it. She felt like kissing Derek, who was sitting behind her totting up a list of figures.
Things only got better when on Wednesday the switch put through a call from a Mr Andrew Ryan.
Claire was genuinely surprised as she had given up hope of ever seeing him again.
‘Andrew!’ she exclaimed, wondering how he’d found her. She had long ago stopped giving guys her phone number unless they really asked for it. She’d heard far too many ‘I’ll phone you’s and then spent days waiting for calls that never came.
‘Actually I called every insurance company in Dublin,’ he admitted, ‘trying to find where you worked.’
‘Oh, I see,’ she said, accidentally deleting a week’s revenue figures from the spreadsheet as she imagined him tracking her down.
‘I should have got your number when we met. I went out after you to get it but you’d gone. I couldn’t remember exactly where you lived and thought it best to try work.’
She loved even the sound of his voice.
‘I tried lots of offices – I think the girls on the switch thought I was some kind of lunatic stalker.’
‘It’s good to hear from you.’ She tried to sound calm.
‘Anyway, one of the reasons I’m phoning is that I’m going down to Carlow on Friday night and I thought I might check and see if you had any plans or if you were going home this weekend,’ he said. ‘Of course you might have plans already, be doing something else . . .’
‘No. I’m not,’ she said, smiling, forgetting to play it cool. ‘I’m not doing anything this weekend.’
She hoped she didn’t sound too eager, too desperate.
‘I could collect you at your flat if you like. Also there’s a bit of a do – a barbecue in the local rugby club on Saturday night – and I was wondering if you might be interested in going with me.’
She didn’t know what to say.
‘Claire?’
A barbecue with Andrew and she hadn’t been home for an age. She could go up to Brown Thomas after work and get one or two things for her parents and brother and sister with her vouchers and surprise them.
‘A weekend down home would be wonderful, Andrew.’
‘And the club?’
It had been so long since she had been on a proper date she had almost forgotten.
‘That would be wonderful too.’ She smiled, giving him her address and mobile number. ‘What time will you pick me up?’
Claire stared at the computer screen, hitting letters without thinking.
‘Is that him?’ whispered Sheila, her double chin wobbling. ‘The boyfriend?’
‘Yes,’ grinned Claire. ‘I rather think it might be.’