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It was a little ridiculous calling a taxi to travel the short distance from O’Mara’s to Quinn’s. There was no way Aisling was going to arrive at the restaurant soaked and looking like a bedraggled sea creature washed ashore though. Not when she’d spent an age dolling herself up. Nor would she risk her Jimmy Choo glitter mules, a bargain so far as Jimmy Choo’s went bought in the sales several years ago, encountering a puddle. Truth be told and puddles aside she wasn’t sure even she could walk more than a block in the heels. They defied gravity even by her standards.
She’d made a special effort tonight and she wasn’t sure why. Leila and Quinn wouldn’t care if she turned up in her pyjamas. Speaking of which Moira had finally gotten dressed. The thought of the lecture she’d be sure to receive on falling into slovenly ways from Mammy was all the incentive needed.
Aisling had fluffed with her makeup and hair before sliding into her little black dress—actually she’d wriggled her way into it. She wasn’t sure if it would fit, but she managed to wrestle the zipper into place completing her outfit with the crème de la crème pair of shoes in her collection. It was as though she were putting on armour she’d mused giving herself a final once over. Proving to herself that she was in control of what happened next in her life. She sucked her tummy in and smoothed the dress down, she didn’t scrub up too badly. It was nice to get dressed up she used to all the time. She’d forgotten what a boost it always gave her.
‘Give Mammy a hug from me,’ she said before singing out a cheery ‘bye’ to Moira. She had a face on her. A night in watching Ballykissangel with Mammy could do that to a girl. It was her habit of talking to the characters throughout the show telling them what they should be doing. Ah well, Moira would cheer up once she had a helping of lemon chicken in front of her. She wondered what she’d order tonight remembering the Irish baileys cheesecake she’d spied on the menu board. Her tummy rumbled reminding her all she’d had to eat today was digestive biscuits.
Aisling gripped the railing tightly as she gingerly descended the stairs, it had been a long time since the Jimmy Choo’s had had an outing. She was out of practice but sure wearing high heels was second nature to her. Give her an hour and she’d be up for a marathon. She tottered through into reception head held high. It was deserted apart from Evie who was eating a bowl of two-minute noodles with an unenthusiastic expression. Her face lit up when she spied her boss though. ‘Wow, Aisling you look gorgeous—like a film star. I love those shoes.’
Aisling felt herself soften toward the younger girl. Give her a compliment and she was anybody’s. ‘Thanks Evie.’
‘You must be going somewhere special?’
Fishing, always fishing. ‘For dinner with friends. Oh there’s my taxi. Have a good night.’
‘Mind how you go.’
Aisling swept out into the night. Things were off to a good start she thought seeing the driver had the good manners to get out of the taxi to hold the door open for her. That surly fecker from earlier could learn a few tricks from him she thought sliding onto the backseat. Her hand reached up and patted her hair it was still intact. Yes a good start to the evening indeed.
Quinn’s was heaving, she’d forgotten what a big night Sundays were. Alasdair didn’t disappoint. He gave her a once over that from anybody else would be offensive followed by a long slow whistle. ‘Aisling O’Mara, I swear you’re fit for the red carpet. Tonight you have me in mind of Ginger Rogers when we featured in Swing Time together.’
Before Aisling knew what was happening Alasdair was doing his best Fred Astaire tapdancing impersonation and had grabbed hold of her giving her a twirl. It was a dance move that would have ended in disaster had he not had a firm hold of her. ‘Love those shoes by the way divine!’ He let her go. She was aware of other patrons looking on in amusement a few were clapping, but she was far too used to Alasdair’s flamboyant ways to be embarrassed.
Quinn was standing in the doorway of the kitchen giving her a slow clap along with a big grin. She could see he’d shaved even from where she was standing. She gave him a little bow before scanning the tables to see if Leila, ever punctual had beaten her there. She had and was laughing at the display she’d just witnessed. She waved out.
Aisling left Alasdair to accost the patrons who’d ducked in from the rain. They were making a show of rubbing their hands and stamping their feet as though they’d just escaped from a howling blizzard. She weaved her way around to the table in the far corner of the room. Alasdair had arranged for them to be as far away from the stage as possible, so they could hear themselves speak. A solitary amp and microphone were the only clues there’d be live music later. Aisling hoped Quinn planned on joining them too and wasn’t going to spend the evening slaving in the kitchen.
Leila stood up to greet her friend with a warm hug. She smelt gorgeous Aisling thought inhaling an unfamiliar scent. Leila looked down at Aisling’s feet.
‘Ooh the Jimmy Choo’s, my favourite. You look gorgeous Ash. I love that dress.’
‘Thank you, I wasn’t sure if it would still fit but I managed to squeeze into it. I’ll be fine so long as I don’t eat!’ she laughed. ‘You do too but then you always do.’ Leila with her petite figure and lustrous blonde hair didn’t have to make much effort. She could wear a sack and look stylish. Tonight she’d opted for a simple pale blue shift dress with bell sleeves. Her hair was loose framing her pretty pixie face. ‘And you smell divine, what is that?’
‘I treated myself, it’s a new Gucci fragrance called Rush.’
‘It suits you.’
They sat down, and both began to talk at once, laughing at their eagerness to catch up. Aisling giggled as Leila relayed a tale about a recent wedding where the bride had gotten tipsy and called her new mother-in-law an old trout. They’d no time to move on to other topics before a waiter Aisling hadn’t seen before made a beeline for their table. He looked like a student whose Mam had told him to put on his good shirt trying to earn a bit of cash on the side.
‘Hello there, I’m Tom your waiter this evening. Now then can I get you both something to drink before you check out our menu?’
‘Hi Tom, yes please. Leila should we share a bottle of red?’
‘Why not.’
‘A bottle of your house red please Tom. Oh and would you mind telling Quinn to get his arse out here and come and join us?’
Tom grinned and put his pencil behind his ear, ‘I will. Shall I use those words exactly?’
‘Definitely.’
He moved away to pass on the message.
‘So moving right along. Dare I ask have you seen Marcus since I spoke to you?’
‘I have, he was waiting for me when I got home from lunch with Moira and Mammy on Saturday afternoon.’
‘And?’
‘You can probably guess what he had to say for himself.’
Leila nodded. ‘How did you leave things or am I better off not knowing?’
‘I promised him I’d think about what he’d said. He’s staying with his mam and dad. As for any of that other stuff it’s been so long I’ve forgotten how.’
‘Sure it’s like riding a bike. Not that I’m encouraging you to get back on that particular bicycle.’
Aisling raised an eyebrow, glad to divert the conversation away from Marcus. She only went around in circles where he was concerned. ‘That sounds like someone who’s been doing a spot of pedalling recently.’
Leila smiled. ‘I might have gone for a tandem ride after the third date with a photographer fella I met at a wedding. I have my standards you know.’
‘Glad to hear it, and what is this photographer fella’s name then?’
Leila mumbled something and Aisling strained to hear it but couldn’t catch it.
‘What was that?’
Leila sighed. ‘Don’t you dare laugh.’
‘I won’t.’
‘Bearach, it means Barry.’
Aisling snorted before erupting into peals of laughter. ‘Sorry Leila but Beararch?’ She tried it out for size, ‘Ooh Beararch’. Or ooh Barry! I don’t know what’s worse,’ she choked.
‘I knew you’d take the mickey.’ Leila grinned. ‘And for the record I am not a moaner.’
Tom arrived with their glasses and a bottle of red which he opened with a flourish for someone of his tender years before leaving it to breathe.
‘Bugger all that breathing business I need a drink after that.’ Aisling poured them both a glass and raised hers. ‘A toast. May you have warm words on a cold evening, a full moon on dark nights, and the road downhill all the way to your door.’ They clinked glasses.
‘Where did you get that from?’
‘One of our guest’s souvenir tea towels. I liked it.’
Quinn, having overseen all was ticking over in his kitchen made his way over. ‘Hello, my two favourite ladies, may I join you?’
‘Of course, sit your arse down.’
He grinned and did as he was told. Aisling spying Tom about to move away from a nearby table called out, ‘Tom would you mind getting us another glass please.’ She had to smile watching the young waiter, seeing it was his boss who required the vessel virtually run to the bar. He returned a beat later making a show of polishing the glass before pouring a generous amount of the ruby liquid into it. He stood back cloth draped over his arm waiting for approval. It was too late for Quinn to do a tasting, given Aisling had already drunk half the contents of her glass. Leila had had a good go at hers too. Nevertheless Quinn played the game. He held the glass up to the light and swirled it before sniffing the contents and finally taking a sip.
Aisling held her breath, please don’t spit it out. She knew wine connoisseurs did this to get a sense of the wine—at least this what Marcus had told her. He was a spitter and insisted on performing the ritual whenever they ate out. She hated it, finding it a seat squirming pretentious show—especially if he waved it away for whatever reason. It had taken the enjoyment out of the evening for her on more than one occasion. Funny she mused she’d forgotten that. Not to mention it was a waste of good wine!
Quinn swallowed, and Aisling exhaled.
‘Cheers Tom. That hit the spot. Bottoms up ladies.’ He raised his glass and clinked with Leila and Aisling. Tom looked relieved and asked if they were ready to order.
Quinn picked the menus up off the table and passed them up to Tom. ‘There’s no need for these. These two are old friends of mine and I’ve prepared something special for them.’
Aisling and Leila clapped their hands in delight they were in for a treat.
‘I hope you’re hungry.’
‘I could eat the back door buttered,’ Aisling grinned.