‘Am I to take it, it was a good night then?’
Roisin nodded.
‘Then why do you look like someone just stole the last piece of your pie?’
‘I made an eejit of myself, that’s why.’
‘Really, I’d never believe that?’
Roisin wasn’t sure whether Bronagh was taking the mickey or not. ‘Well, I did.’
Bronagh studied her face and raised a sympathetic smile as she made a clucking sound. ‘Ah, c’mon now, it can’t be that bad. Tell your aunty Bronagh all about it.’
Roisin felt a little like she was standing in front of a schoolteacher as she bowed her head, her hands clasped in front of her while she confided in the receptionist how her evening had been going really well until she’d had a reality check as to her situation. ‘He’s only in his twenties, Bronagh. Sure, what would he want with me. Anyway,’ she shrugged. ‘I began knocking back the tequila sunrises and the rest is history.’
‘That’s not so bad. You won’t be the only one to get a little too merry this time of year.’
‘I tripped over leaving the restaurant and fell in a heap near the entrance.’ Her face flamed because even in her inebriated state she’d felt the curious stares of the other diners on her. Shay had helped her up, checking she hadn’t hurt herself, before taking a firm grip of her and hustling her out of the restaurant and into a taxi.
‘Oh.’
‘He was a gentleman, saw me all the way to the sofa upstairs. He fetched me a big glass of water and listened to me ramble on. I think I told him we weren’t a good match due to him being footloose and fancy free and me having enough baggage to sink the Titanic, but that’s not to say I didn’t find him highly rideable. Ah Jaysus, Bronagh I can’t believe I said that. Anyway I must have fallen asleep at some point, and that’s when he made his escape because I woke up alone on the sofa with a terrible crick in my neck as the sun was coming up.’ Roisin rubbed her temples. She was old enough to know better. Never, ever again.
Bronagh opened her drawer. ‘Here,’ she held out the packet of biscuits. ‘I think you need one of these.’
Roisin took the custard cream and nibbled it, relishing the sweetness.
‘Don’t be too hard on yourself, Roisin. You’ve had an awful lot of changes this year and you were bound to let off steam some time. As for having luggage—’
‘It’s baggage, Bronagh.’ Roisin managed a weak smile.
‘Whatever, you know what I mean. There’s not many of us who get through life without picking up a few heavy bags along the way. I don’t know why you’re making a fuss about being a few years older than your man, either.’
‘Nearly ten years older, a whole decade, Bronagh.’
Bronagh flapped her hand. ‘Age is just a number. Do you like him?’
‘I do, he’s a very nice man.’
‘And he obviously likes you, suitcases and all so, there you go. I’ve seen that beautiful bouquet in the guests’ lounge. Cut yourself some slack, Roisin. You’re not after marrying him, you went out for dinner and a few drinks that’s all.’
‘Too many drinks, and I couldn’t marry him because then I’d be a bigamist.’
‘You’re as bad as your sisters with an answer for everything.’
‘Sorry, I know you’re trying to help.’ Roisin licked the crumbs off her bottom lip which felt dry and cracked from sleeping with her mouth open all night.
Bronagh was mollified. ‘Roisin, I’ve been around the block a few times.’
She was fond of that saying, Roisin thought, finding it very hard to imagine Bronagh doing any such thing, but she’d obviously had a life outside of O’Mara’s. It was just one they’d not been privy to.
‘And if there’s one thing I know it’s this.’ Bronagh’s expression was sage. ‘We women tend to spoil things for ourselves by spinning things round and round in our heads. Things we have no control over. We weave our own version of events. Save your energy, Rosi, I’d put money on him phoning to check how you’re feeling today.’
‘Do you think?’ Roisin wasn’t sure she wanted him to. The part of her that wanted to throw caution to the wind and be damned, desperately wanted to hear his voice. To know she hadn’t blown things. The other part, the sensible mother part, thought it best if they just left things alone. She wasn’t right for him, he wasn’t right for her so why pursue it? She squinted again, her head hurt too much for all this analysis.
‘I think. Now why don’t you get yourself down those stairs and see what Mrs Flaherty can whip up to sort you out and next time I see you make sure you’ve brushed that hair of yours. Is it a new look you were after with the you know?’ She pointed at Roisin’s fringe..
‘No, it’s a long story and one I definitely don’t want to talk about.’ Roisin leaned in and gave the receptionist a quick hug, ‘Thanks, Bronagh.’ Straightening up, she tried to smooth her fringe down with her hands.
Bronagh patted her hand. ‘Go on. Away with you now.’
Before she headed off down the stairs, she poked her head around the door to the guests’ lounge and there on the coffee table was the beautiful bunch of flowers Shay had presented her with last night. She recalled the boyishly shy look on his face as he handed them to her and her heart ached. Why did life have to be so hard sometimes?
‘WHERE’S MY BOY?’ MRS Flaherty demanded, releasing Roisin from a bearlike embrace and giving her the once over.
‘He’ll be in to see you later, Mrs Flaherty. He stayed at Mammy’s last night,’ Roisin explained.
‘So as you could have a night out, by the looks of things.’ The dumpling cheeked cook, whose apron straining around her middle bore the hallmarks of a busy morning
