‘Well you don’t. You’re fine the way you are,’ Roisin snapped, pulling her and Moira away from the window. ‘Come on, Cindy and Ash will be on dessert by the time we get there.’
THE FAMILIAR AND QUINTESSENTIAL, whitewashed building, with its brass nameplate, that was Quinn’s, came into their line of sight and Roisin found herself anticipating the cosy and warm atmosphere she knew they’d find inside. They bustled in through the door in time to witness Alasdair fawning all over Cindy.
‘I never thought I’d see you again, my darling!’
Cindy looked bewildered, ‘I’m sorry but I don’t think we’ve met before. This is my first time visiting Dublin.’
‘Ah non!’ The flamboyant maître de clapped a hand to his chest. ‘You must remember! It is me, the Fellini to your Ekberg. La Dolce Vita, my darling.’ He blew her a kiss and Cindy looked at Aisling slightly alarmed by his carry-on. Aisling didn’t appear fazed; in fact she was smiling.
She leaned in towards her getting a strong whiff of her sugary sweet perfume and stage whispered, ‘Alasdair has had more past lives than I’ve had hot dinners. He’s famous for them. He even gets a mention in the Lonely Planet. He’s what you’d call a Dublin icon and he’s very good for business. My guess is he’s decided you were Anita Ekberg when he was Frederico Fellini.’ Aisling, copping an eyeful of cleavage as Cindy undid the buttons on her coat, could see where he’d gotten the idea from.
Cindy’s mouth formed an ‘O’ as though she got it. She didn’t; they were all a bit mad in Ireland from what she’d seen, but she let Alasdair help her out of her coat, nonetheless.
Maureen pushed forward, more than happy to be on the receiving end of one of Alasdair’s effusive greetings. He didn’t disappoint her, exclaiming over how divine she was looking – how divine they were all looking as he took their coats and whisked away the pile of hats and scarves so they disappeared like magic. Paula, the waitress working the lunchtime Christmas Eve shift, saw them to their table which was in a prime spot in the middle of the heaving restaurant. They sat themselves down and Roisin looked on enviously as Cindy fluffed her hair and it formed a becoming halo around her face despite her Cossack hat. She fluffed her own hair knowing it would have moulded itself into the shape of the woollen hat she’d pulled down low enough to keep her ears warm on the walk over.
Aisling looked pleased as Cindy oohed and aahed over how “Irish” the restaurant was. The chatter filling the inviting space around them was convivial and interspersed with the sounds of glasses clinking, the chink of knives and forks on plates, and bursts of laughter. The aroma of hearty food, the sort that would stick to your ribs, clung to the air, and Roisin’s tummy grumbled despite her hearty breakfast.
‘I love the wooden beams and the fire, it’s so cute,’ Cindy gushed, and Aisling puffed up proudly although she deflated slightly when Cindy followed this up with a giggling, ‘It reminds me of the cottage out of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs or Goldilocks.’ Aisling excused herself eager to find Quinn so she could introduce him to her brother’s new girlfriend, hoping she’d keep her fairy-tale comparisons to herself.
‘Will we have wine?’ Maureen asked, looking from one to the other and shaking her head as her eyes settled on Moira. ‘Well not for you, Moira, obviously.’ She turned to Roisin. ‘And given your mushy peas complexion I think you’d do better on the Coca-Cola like your sister.’ She smiled at Cindy, ‘There’s no reason Aisling, Cindy and myself shouldn’t enjoy a tipple though.’
‘I’ll stick with the mineral water, thanks, Maureen,’ Cindy dimpled. ‘I have to keep an eye on my calorie intake.’
Maureen looked down at her own middle.
Aisling returned with Quinn, who was looking handsome and incredibly immaculate in his chef’s whites. It always amazed Roisin, given his profession, how he kept them so clean. If it were her let loose in the kitchen, she’d have more sauce down her front than simmering in the pots! ‘How’re you all,’ he grinned. ‘It’s an honour having all the beautiful O’Mara women here together. And, Cindy, it’s grand to have you here all the way from Los Angeles. Welcome.’
‘Get away with you,’ Maureen said, preening. She loved being made a fuss of. It had been a highlight in her social calendar year when she’d treated Rosemary Farrell from her rambling group to a birthday lunch at Quinn’s. He’d made them feel like proper VIP guests and Rosemary had been very impressed, especially when the chef gave them his personal lunch recommendations. ‘Now then what would you recommend we order today, Quinn?’ she asked as Paula passed around the menus.
‘Well now, Maureen, I know you’re partial to coddle and it’s particularly tasty today. The sausages are specialty free range pork and I used new potatoes.’
‘What’s coddle?’ Cindy simpered over the top of her menu. Aisling frowned. Was she flirting with Quinn? She was one of those women who flirted not even knowing she was flirting.
She looked at Quinn who was oblivious to her charms as he replied theatrically, ‘Only the finest meal in Ireland.’
‘It’s sausage and potato boiled up in one pot,’ Moira stated.
‘Oh, sounds, um, wonderful.’
‘That’s settled then,’ Mammy said. ‘Cindy and I will have the coddle. Aisling will you share a carafe of the house red with me?’
Aisling nodded, yes, she would, and Quinn kissed her on the cheek. It wasn’t all he did.
‘I saw that pat on the bottom,’ Maureen tutted, and he gave her a grin that made him look like a naughty schoolboy, before leaving Paula to take care of them.
She scribbled down their orders. Two coddles and three Dublin Bay prawns. ‘Easy,’ she said with a smile before taking their order through to the kitchen.
Maureen rummaged
