This was news to Aisling, but then she had been self-absorbed of late.
‘But you said everything was grand.’
‘No, I said he’s grand.’
Aisling studied her friend. She knew the signs well. As soon as the fellow she was stepping out with began to make noises about moving things along in their relationship, Leila got cold feet. ‘I think you should go.’
‘You do?’
‘Yes. You need to take his invitation at face value and not analyse it. What do I always say to you?’
‘Analysis is paralysis.’ Leila recited; a good student.
‘Go and enjoy the opportunity to sample the delights of Connemara. Spend some time with his family who are probably very nice people keen to get know the woman who’s been spending time with their son. The only person reading more into the invitation, is you.’
Leila smoothed the serviette she’d unwittingly been folding. ‘You’re right. Thanks, Ash. You know if you ever get tired of running O’Mara’s you’d make a grand counsellor.’
Aisling smiled. She was good at helping other people see things clearly. Unfortunately, it was a life skill which didn’t extend itself to her own life. She didn’t dwell on this though as Leila retrieved the wedding file from her bag and, pushing her plate to one side put it on the table. She was all business now, flicking through the various pages of notes and pictures clipped inside until she came to what she was looking for.
‘I wanted to know what you thought of these themes for the table settings.’ Leila slid the folder toward her friend and Aisling began to flick through the various cuttings of different ideas filed and clipped inside it.
‘They’re all gorgeous. You know me so well,’ she sighed, pausing over one particularly lovely idea with pinecones, lots of flickering tealight candles and white hydrangeas ‘This one’s lovely, simple but elegant. Perfect for a winter wedding. What do you think?’ Her expression darkened, ‘Do you think the hydrangeas would set Rosi’s hay fever off? And what if one of Mammy’s eejity brothers gets drunk and knocks the candles over?’ She began to chew at her thumbnail as she was assailed with a high drama, action packed vision, whereby Roisin was bent double with the sneezes and her uncles were running about the place brandishing fire extinguishers like they were trained assassins. ‘Do you think the candles might be a recipe for disaster?’
‘Ash, calm down. Remember your mantra, breathe. It’s your day and Quinn’s. You should have exactly what you want and not be worrying about anyone else. Get your thumb out of your mouth, would you. If you start biting your nails now, you’ll have to have falsies put on.’
Aisling dropped her hand. ‘You’re right.’ She took a calming breath as instructed. ‘It’s my wedding and I can have what I want.’
‘And Quinn’s,’ Leila corrected.
‘Yes, yes, his too. Can I take this with me to show him?’
‘Of course you can.’
Aisling unclipped the picture and folded it in half before sliding it into her bag. ‘Where are you at with securing the carriage?’ She wanted to sit inside a horse drawn carriage and wave to the commoners like the Princess Diana and even yer Fergie one had. She’d been practising her wave in the bathroom mirror.
‘I’m in talks with Fergus Muldoon. I’ve put a lot of work his way in the past so he should come to the party despite the short notice and give us a good price.’
‘Grand, thanks, Leila. Can you ask him to make sure the carriage looks as much like a pumpkin as possible? Oh, and I don’t want any mangy horses off the estate either.’
‘I will. Sure, you’ll have a fine pumpkin carriage drawn by dancing white horses. You’ll be Cinderella on the way to meet her prince.’
Aisling smiled liking the analogy. Quinn was her Prince Charming and she would live happily ever after – she’d make damned sure of it even if it was the death of her.
Chapter 6
‘Aisling O’Mara, the woman who has not only broken my heart but shattered it into a million tiny pieces!’ Alasdair flounced forth as Aisling burst in through the door of Quinn’s eager to escape the cold.
It was no good her being cold when she was trying to lose weight because it made her want to stuff things down like stodgy, rib-sticking dinners followed by creamy rice pudding, with a dollop of Mrs Baicu’s jam to sweeten it. Ah Jaysus, her mouth was already watering.
‘The Cathy to my Heathcliff. Are we destined to always be kept apart?’ Alasdair began to hum Kate Bush’s Wuthering Heights his hands fluttering to his heart.
Aisling laughed as she unwound her scarf. ‘Get away with you. It’s freezing out.’
His voice returned to its normal cadence as he held his hand out, ‘Here let me take your coat.’
She unbelted it and divested herself of it, passing the coat to him along with her scarf. He draped them over his arm. ‘Thanks. The fire looks lovely.’ Her expression was wistful as her eyes drifted across the restaurant to the fireplace aglow with dancing orange flames. Several patrons were basking in its warmth, enjoying the ambience it created as they savoured their desserts.
‘Well, why don’t you pull up a chair and put your feet up for a while, Aisling – I have no idea how your careen about town the way you do in those shoes.’ He looked pointedly at her black Miu Miu’s with their impossible high heels which meant she came up to Alasdair’s chin. Without them she’d be navel gazing. ‘Although, I have to say they are gorgeous.’
‘Thank you, they are my favourites.’ It was a half-truth. She loved all her designer shoes and had spent a small fortune collecting them over the years. They were all her favourites. ‘And I’d love to curl up over there.’
‘With a glass of vino,’ Alasdair said enticingly. ‘A cheeky little red perhaps?’
‘Oh, you’re tempting me.’
‘That’s the idea. You know you’re my favourite redhead.’
‘Ah
