O'Mara's

by Michelle Vernal

  ‘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.

  Chapter 34

  True to his word Quinn had indeed produced something special. He disappeared into the kitchen returning a few moments later with an enormous platter which he’d laid down in the centre of the table. Tom materialised at his side with a side plate for each of them before flapping napkins open to spread onto their laps. Aisling’s mouth watered as she gazed down at the array of nibbles Quinn had created. It must have taken him hours to put together.

  ‘This looks amazing thank you! How spoilt are we?’

  Leila uttered the same sentiment.

  ‘Ah well you know me. I never miss a chance to show off in the kitchen. It’s just a little something I threw together.’ It was tongue in cheek. Aisling knew how to throw something together. It usually involved retrieving whatever was left over from last night’s dinner from the refrigerator and reheating it. This sitting on the table ready for them to tuck into was art on a plate.

  ‘Of course, if we were doing the proper degustation dining experience then I’d be bringing these out for you to sample plate by plate and pairing each dish with a complementing wine. I wanted to join you though not keep running off to the kitchen, besides I figured I’d be wasting my time walking you two lushes through the different wines.’

  Leila waved the near empty bottle, ‘Ah the cheek. But you figured right. Another bottle of the house red will do us nicely thank you very much.’ She caught Tom’s eye and he gave her the thumbs up. ‘I’m almost frightened to eat anything it looks so pretty,’ she said her attention returning to the platter of food in front of them.

  ‘Well now that would be a waste. Here why don’t you begin with this,’ Quinn used the tongs and placed one of the dainty colourful morsels he’d selected on a side plate for each of them. ‘My personal favourite. Seared scallop drizzled with pea puree on a cauliflower rösti.’ He popped his in his mouth. ‘That’s good,’ he mumbled through his mouthful, ‘if I do say so myself. Come on you two. It’s not like you to hold back.’

  ‘Don’t mind if I do,’ Aisling grinned before demolishing hers, Leila following suit. She’d worked her way around to a generous sliver of smoky maple pork belly by the time Quinn, in between bites and wiping his mouth with a napkin had finished regaling them a kitchen disaster story involving an exploding pressure cooker. She made a mental note to never dig out Mammy’s old one. It could stay tucked away down the back of the cupboard.

  As they began to make short work of the food, they laughed over their student days and the things they used to get up to. Aisling leaned back in her chair, taking a breather from stuffing her face. She was feeling relaxed and merry. It was a tonic sharing wine and good food with her two most favourite people in the world, family aside.

  Quinn she thought feeling a warm glow as she looked at him across the table had been such a good friend to her, especially during those awful weeks before Dad had passed. Leila too had stepped up above and beyond the call of duty, both when Dad died and after Marcus left. She resolved there and then to get the three of them together more regularly from thereon in. ‘So,’ she twinkled over her glass not wanting to get too sentimental. ‘I’ve heard about Leila’s latest fling with Bearach, otherwise known as ‘Ooh Barry’,’ it earned her a kick under the table.

  Quinn took Aisling’s cue and began to chant, ‘Leila and Bazzer up a tree—’ he got no further before Leila threatened him with a Cajun spiced chicken wing and he held his hands up in surrender.

  ‘You two are worse than children!’

  They grinned across the table conspiratorially and Aisling hoped her teeth weren’t black from the wine. She picked up with what she’d been about to say. ‘Like I said Quinn, we know who’s been parking his boots under Leila’s bed, but what about you?’

  ‘Did you just blush?’ Leila squealed eager for payback.

  ‘I did not. I’ve nothing to blush over. You know me, married to my business.’

  ‘Ah but your business won’t keep you warm at night.’ Leila demolished her chicken wing and wiping her greasy fingers on a napkin said, ‘There must be a lovely foodie lass out there for you. A girl who knows her rump from her sirloin. It’s a waste a fine-looking chap like yourself being on his own. I think what you need to do is come along to one of my weddings. They’re chock full of young ladies all desperate to find Mr Right. We’ll smuggle you in under the pretence of, oh I don’t know being my assistant. We could call you Fabio or something like that,’ she sniggered. ‘What do you say?’

  Aisling’s insides twisted. How would she feel when Quinn met someone he was serious about? She didn’t want to think about it.

  ‘No fecking way,’ he said.

  Leila pouted. ‘I think it’s a great idea and I seem to recall you saying that to me another time.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘When I suggested we all give salsa a go.’

  ‘I wasn’t keen initially either. You were good at it though Quinn, a natural,’ Aisling said. ‘You should have stuck with it.’

  ‘So were you.’ Their eyes met both knowing why she hadn’t. Salsa hadn’t been Marcus’s thing. It hadn’t been Leila’s either, but she’d have kept going for both their sakes. Quinn had called it quits when Aisling said she wouldn’t be going back. The shine had gone out of it for him.

  ‘What about you then Aisling?’ Quinn asked.

  She shrugged and drained the dregs from her glass. ‘What about me?’

  ‘Any budding romances we should know about?’ He reached over and filled her glass in an effort to busy himself.

  ‘Marcus is back in town, and he wants her back.’

  Quinn sloshed the wine over the side of Aisling’s glass. ‘Shit, sorry.’

  ‘It’s only a splash,’ Aisling said dabbing at the pink stain.

  ‘What are you going to do?’ Quinn sat back in his chair finishing the rest of his drink too quickly.

  ‘I don’t know. I’ve had an earful from Mammy, Roisin and Moira as to what I should do all of it involving telling him to feck off. Oh and I believe calling him a ball bag was mentioned more than once too. Come on, you two know me better than anyone else, what do you think I should do?’

  ‘Ash we can’t tell you what you should do, you know that. You have to do what your heart tells you.’

  ‘One of our guests, it’s a long story, she said I should follow my heart and that there’s a lot to be said for forgiveness.’

  Quinn sat barely hearing as Leila replied, he was lost in his thoughts. The years had passed other women had come and gone but he still carried that same torch for Aisling. The flame had never even so much as flickered. He gazed into his empty glass at the deep red sediment. He should have laid it on the line when she came back from Crete, but it didn’t seem right with her dad being so sick. He would have fe
lt as though he were taking advantage of her when she was vulnerable. Instead, he’d tried to show her through his actions. The meals he’d cooked and brought around to O’Mara’s during those dark days before Brian passed, and then after to try to tempt her into eating something. It had hurt him almost as much as he knew she was hurting to see her in so much pain. He’d felt incompetent because all he could do was make sure she knew he was there for her. He hadn’t expected Marcus to happen along, but he had and the window of opportunity had closed. He would have gladly knocked the bastard flat on his back for what he’d done to Aisling. Especially when she was still so raw from her father’s death.

  At the same time he’d hated himself for the relief he’d felt over the wedding not going ahead. He didn’t wish that heartache on her but any eejit could see Marcus and Aisling weren’t right for each other. She’d latched onto him when she’d been lost and unsure how to get past her grief for her dad. They hadn’t even been together a year when they got engaged. It had taken every ounce of Quinn’s willpower not to tell her she was making a mistake. He’d distanced himself from her rather than say something she might not forgive him for.

  Marcus held her back, she was a restrained version of the Aisling he knew when she was around him. Her laugh not quite as loud. It had been a long time since he’d seen her throw back her head and laugh like she used to her. It had been good to see her enjoying herself tonight. He watched the light play on the cascade of her hair, red and gold glints shimmering like fire. He wouldn’t let that window close on him for a second time.

  Chapter 35