The Shoestring Club

by Sarah Webb

  ‘This is amazing, Jamie. How on earth—’

  He puts both his hands up. ‘Don’t ask. Honestly. You don’t want to know. But I’ve marked the ten most likely candidates on the final sheet with the movies they’ve rented and music they’ve bought. But for God’s sake, burn this list after you’ve studied it and not a word to Pandora or Bird, or my mum will hear about it and probably throw me out on my ear.’

  Arietty flicks through the list, her eyes getting wider and wider. ‘You can pull this kind off information off the internet? That’s terrifying.’

  Jamie shrugs. ‘It’s all there if you know where to look.’

  Arietty is staring at Jamie. He goes to take the pages out of her hands. ‘I’ll happily take it back if you’re uncomfortable—’

  ‘No!’ I snatch the pages away from Arietty and hold them against my chest. ‘Don’t you dare. We really appreciate all your work, don’t we, Arietty?’

  She’s still looking at him rather suspiciously. ‘I suppose. As long as we don’t all get arrested.’

  ‘We won’t,’ I say firmly. ‘Now let’s get down to business.’ I put the pages back down on the table and flick to the final sheet.

  ‘Number one in Jamie’s top ten is Simon Patterson. He’s twenty-eight and here are his most recent rentals: Saw, The Evil Dead, House of 1,000 Corpses.’

  Arietty sits back in her chair and folds her arms stiffly. ‘Too violent.’

  ‘And Pandora likes action adventure films,’ I put in. ‘Not horror.’

  ‘What music is this Simon guy into?’ she asks.

  I read out the list. ‘White Zombie, Goatsnake and Hellhammer.’

  Arietty lifts her eyebrows. ‘See what I mean?’

  I cross out his name. ‘Moving swiftly on to number two. Bryan McAllister, twenty-six. The Matrix, The Fifth Element, and The Empire Strikes Back. Sounds more like it. Also rented three Top Gear boxed sets last weekend.’

  She wrinkles up her face. ‘Top Gear? Too boring. And three sets over one weekend? Doesn’t the man have a life?’ Arietty unclips her hair, twists it in both her hands, and then clips it up again. ‘Bet he likes Phil Collins too. Next!’

  ‘Lee Devaney. Thirty-one. Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom—’

  Jamie clears his throat and we both look at him.

  ‘Yes?’ I say.

  ‘For feck’s sake, you’ll be here all night. Just throw them all in a room with the Mothers’ Union sons and let Pandora pick one for herself. What if they’re renting films for someone else? What if the card’s in their name but their sister or brother is using it?’

  I glare at him. ‘It’s your list.’

  ‘And as I keep saying, it’s not reliable,’ he says. ‘You’re wasting your time, and it’s a beautiful evening. I for one would much rather be sitting outside Finnegan’s. It’s probably the last night we’ll be able to do it all year. Anyone for a pint?’

  ‘I’m driving,’ Arietty says, ‘but I’ll join you for a Coke.’

  My heart gives a little hop, then I remember I’m not supposed to be drinking and I’ve already broken that promise this week as it is. But Jamie’s right, it’s such a nice evening and I’ll kill for a drink. I’ll just have the one, then I’ll Coke it, like Arietty.

  ‘How many are on your list in total?’ I ask.

  ‘Over three hundred.’

  I whistle. ‘I get your point. Finnegan’s it is.’ Then I smile at him, feeling stupidly excited. It’s only the local.

  ‘Who the hell?’ I hear Pandora muttering as she swings open the door. She stares at me. ‘Jules, it’s nearly one. What are you playing at? Where are your keys? You’re lucky it’s me and not Bird or Dad.’

  ‘Sorry.’ I hiccup loudly, then put my hand over my mouth. ‘Oops, sorry.’ Then I hiccup again and collapse into giggles.

  ‘Have you been drinking?’

  ‘Nooooooooo.’ I can’t stop giggling.

  Pandora isn’t amused. ‘You promised Bird.’

  ‘’s Jamie’s fault. He kept buying me pints.’ More hiccups.

  ‘Oh for God’s sake, just come inside and go to bed. You’re supposed to be working in the morning.’

  ‘Work, smirk.’ I go to pat her arm, but miss and end up lurching forwards and whacking my hand off the door frame. It should hurt but strangely it doesn’t, just throbs a little dully. ‘Oww!’ I rub it.

  ‘Shush,’ she hisses.

  I walk inside, trying not to wobble too much. Pandora wraps her arms around her body and shivers, then closes the front door behind us. ‘You’ll wake Iris and Bird.’ Dad’s such a heavy sleeper nothing would wake him. ‘Although I’ve a good mind to make Bird come down here and see the state you’re in.’

  ‘Please don’t. It won’t happen again. I promise. I’ll be a really, really, really good girl. No more booze. Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in—’

  She cuts me off. ‘Fine. But one more relapse and I’m going to have to tell her. Understand?’

  ‘You’re the best sis in the whole entire universe.’ I go to hug her but she steps away and I end up stumbling into the hall table and sending the keys rattling in the bowl.

  We both stand still for a second, listening, but no one stirs.

  Pandora sighs. ‘I’d better help you up the stairs. Don’t want any more drink accidents in this house.’

  ‘Thanks, Panda Bear.’ I try resting my head against her shoulder, but instead manage to fall against her side, almost sending her flying. ‘I looove you.’

  She just shakes her head. ‘Jules, I love you too. But boy, do you stink of booze. Better sleep it off now. Come on, sis, I’ll help you.’

  She puts her arm around my waist. I trip over my own feet. ‘Easy now,’ she says. ‘What am I going to do with you, Boolie?’

  Chapter 17

  Pandora stands at the door of Shoestring and stares at the dozens of unaccompanied men streaming into the shop. They’re heading straight towards the outside courtyard where Klaudia and Lenka are flipping burgers. Pandora wasn’t keen at first, said the clothes would stink of barbequed meat for days, but Bird managed to persuade her; she’s very partial to burgers. Bird hasn’t said anything yet, but I think she’s sussed the whole event is a ruse.

  ‘Jules, this is supposed to be a mother and son night,’ Pandora says. ‘Where are all the mothers exactly?’ She stares at me and I can feel my cheeks heating up.

  ‘Cooee, Julia!’ Hester is weaving her way through the crowd, followed by a sheepish looking man in a dark-blue shirt and jeans. This must be her son, Declan. She may just have saved my skin.

  Hester stands in front of us, beaming. ‘Lovely to see you, darlings. Isn’t this a super idea?’ She turns to the man. ‘This is Julia, Declan, the one I’ve been telling you about. And her sister, Pandora. She’s single too, aren’t you, Julia?’

  ‘Um, yes.’ My face starts to burn again.

  Declan looks equally mortified. He sticks out his hand politely.

  ‘Hiya, Julia, Pandora. Sorry about my mother. Ignore her.’

  We take turns to shake his hand while Hester tut-tuts. ‘Don’t be silly, Declan, you have to be proactive about these things. Now I’m sure you two young people will have lots to talk about. I need Pandora’s style advice, urgently.’ With that she grabs Pandora’s arm and drags her away.

  Declan and I stand there, staring at each other. He’s in his late-thirties, tall, at least six foot, with warm hazel eyes and dark-brown hair, receding a little at the temples. But I feel exactly . . . nada. Not a zing in sight.

  ‘So your mum dragged you along to find a date?’ I say, then give a laugh. ‘I guess she’s not the kind of person you say no to.’

  He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes which look flat and tired. ‘No kidding. She insisted I meet you. No offence, but what age are you – twenty?’

  ‘Twenty-four.’

  He sucks his teeth. ‘Twenty-four, right. And look at you.’ He waves his hand up and down.

 
I check I haven’t done something stupid like tuck my skirt into my knickers, but no, all seems fine, my white cotton dress is still intact and I haven’t caught the amazingly soft Rick Owens leather jacket on anything yet. Pandora only let me borrow it after swearing on the Farenze (still hanging on the hold rail in the office) I’d take care of it. She also made me swear I wouldn’t drink and make an eejit of myself this evening. Charming.

  He sighs deeply. ‘Way out of my league.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I say, rather delighted with myself. For a thirty-something divorcee with kids, he isn’t bad. I look at him again, trying to focus on the good bits, the lovely eyes complete with the George Clooney crinkles at the edges, the strong, square chin; but no, still nothing. Maybe if I was Pandora’s age – twenty-nine – and starting to worry about being left on the shelf I’d give him a go, screw my eyes tightly shut when I was snogging him or something, but I’m not that desperate, not yet.

  Hang on a sec. I look him up and down again. She likes clean cut men, maybe he’d do for Pandora.

  ‘Would you like to meet someone?’ I ask him, cutting straight to the chase.

  He grimaces. ‘Absolutely not. I’m only here because Mum insisted. I’m all over the place at the moment. What with my marriage combusting and everything I’m—’ He stops abruptly, then sighs. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t even know you. It’s just so—’ He gulps and tears spring to his eyes. ‘Forgive me. I’d better go.’ He goes to walk towards the door but I put my hand on his arm.

  ‘I’m always having inappropriate meltdowns. It’s good to see I’m not the only basket case in Dublin.’ I smile reassuringly at him.

  He nods and smiles back. ‘Thanks. I think.’

  ‘Stay for a bit,’ I say. ‘Have something to eat. Or what about a beer? Will you join me?’

  ‘Sure. Why not?’ he agrees.

  I know I promised Pandora, but I feel sorry for Declan, he seems nice and it can’t be easy being touted about by your mother like a secondhand car she’s trying to flog, however well meaning. And one drink is hardly a big deal.

  We weave our way towards the table laden with a new designer beer called Cirus, sponsored by the local off licence (more sweet talking from Pandora), grab two long-necked bottles and clink them together.

  ‘Cheers,’ I say, taking a glug. It’s actually pretty good and I take another, then another mouthful.

  ‘Thirsty?’ Declan lifts an eyebrow.

  ‘Too right.’ I grab two more bottles from the table and then we head towards the wall, away from the men crowded around the old-fashioned, coffee-table-style Pac-Man console we’d rented for the night, and the Stretch Armstrong dolls I’d found on the internet.

  ‘Great idea for an event, an 80s gaming night,’ Declan says as we watch two burly looking Polish guys pull a doll’s arms into a thin rubbery worm. They’ve already tried chatting up Klaudia and Lenka unsuccessfully; both have Irish boyfriends, claim they’re much more romantic than their Eastern European counterparts, which makes me seriously worry about Slovakian men.

  ‘Thanks, but Pandora’s not going to be too pleased unless we start selling some clothes.’ There are some older women checking out the rails, probably Hester’s friends, but no one seems to have made it to the cash desk as I can’t see anyone holding a Shoestring bag.

  I scan the crowd for my sister. She’s outside the changing rooms, talking to Hester and two other ladies. Damn, she’s supposed to be chatting to all the single men, not fraternizing with the old folk. And where are Arietty and Jamie? They promised they’d be here to give me moral support. Daphne has cried off sick, much to Jamie’s relief.

  ‘Look,’ Declan says, ‘you don’t need to talk to me, honestly. I’m OK here on my own. I’ll finish my beer then slip away,’

  ‘It’s fine, truly.’ I’m quite enjoying standing here, watching the action, sipping my second Cirus which is going down rather nicely. ‘It’ll keep Hester off your back. And you can’t leave now, you’ll miss the karaoke.’

  He puts a hand over his face. ‘Don’t let my mother near it, I beg you. She’s dangerous with a microphone.’

  I laugh. ‘Wait till you hear my sister, dangerous doesn’t cover it.’

  Jamie arrives just after eight, but there’s still no sign of Arietty. I’m standing to one side of the karaoke machine, watching Pandora set it up. There’s already a crowd building in front of the screen, Hester and some of her friends, a gang of Polish lads in tight white T-shirts, and two Italian students I met earlier at the drinks table. The Irish men are predictably enough still hovering around the food and beer and playing the arcade games.

  ‘Where were you?’ I ask Jamie a little crossly.

  ‘The Shoestring website crashed. But don’t say anything to Pandora or Bird, it’s back up now and I don’t want to worry them.’ He looks around. ‘Where’s Arietty?’

  I smile knowingly.

  He frowns. ‘Jules! It’s not like that.’

  ‘Of course not. Why on earth would you be interested in a beautiful, funny, single girl like Arietty?’

  He ignores me. Declan appears beside me, hands me another beer.

  ‘Thanks, Dec.’ We’re on nickname terms now. He’s actually a lovely guy: architect, devoted to his daughter, Rachel. He told me about the whole marriage breakup thing and it’s pretty tragic. His ex-wife sounds like a right cow. After watching Eat, Pray, Love, she decided she wanted to ‘find herself’, signed up for some yoga classes and was soon doing rather more than downward-facing dog with her male yoga teacher.

  Declan and I clink bottles. ‘Bottoms up,’ I say, and take a long sip. ‘ ’s really good grog.’

  I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. ‘Oh and this is my friend, Jamie.’ Then I hiccup and giggle. ‘Sorry. It’s the bubbles.’

  ‘Hi, Jamie,’ Declan says and holds out his hand. ‘Nice to meet you. I’m Declan.’

  ‘Hi.’ Jamie shakes it but he doesn’t look amused. He rounds on me as soon as he’s let go of Declan’s palm. ‘Jules, how much have you had to drink?’

  I hiccup again. ‘Oops. Lighten up, it’s a party.’

  ‘You’re supposed to be working.’ He lowers his voice. ‘Finding a man for Pandora, remember?’

  ‘Panda bear, smanda bear. It’s fine. There are dozens of single men in here, she’s bound to meet someone.’

  Declan looks at me. ‘Pandora’s single?’

  I nod. ‘Single as a bull elephant.’

  ‘Excuse me?’ He looks confused.

  I laugh. ‘Where’s Arietty when you need her? Male elephants are loners. But the more sociable ones do join bachelor herds sometimes. The others wander lonely as a cloud, that floats on high o’er vales and hills.’

  ‘What are you on about?’ Jamie asks.

  ‘Wordsworth.’ It was one of Mum’s favourites. She used to recite poetry in the car. Sounds odd I know, but we got so used to it that it seemed completely normal.

  Jamie shakes his head, but Declan smiles at me.

  ‘A poetry fan, eh?’ Declan says. ‘Would never have guessed.’

  We’re distracted by Pandora on the microphone.

  ‘Testing, testing, one, two, three,’ she says, sounding rather serious.

  ‘Panda in the house,’ I shout. ‘Whoo, whoo!’ I punch my closed fist in the air and then stagger sideways a little, bumping into Jamie.

  ‘Are you sure you’re OK, Jules?’ He leans towards my ear and asks me in a low voice, ‘And why are you hanging out with that old guy?’

  ‘Dec’s not old. And I’m absolutely perfect thank you very much. Get yourself a beer, you seem very tense.’

  ‘I’d like to welcome you all to our very first mother and son night at Shoestring,’ Pandora says.

  Most of the men look at each other in confusion. It’s hardly how it was pitched to them. But luckily no one says anything.

  ‘Would anyone like to kick off the karaoke?’ Pandora asks.

  Hester waves her hand in the air. ‘I will, dear. My son
and I will do a duet. Come along, Declan.’ She shuffles through the crowd towards us.

  Declan swears under his breath. He looks around for an escape exit, but Hester’s too quick for him. Within seconds she’s standing in front of him. ‘There you are, pet. Don’t make your old mother drag you to the microphone.’

  Declan hands me his bottle. ‘Better get this over with quickly. Pray for me.’ I laugh.

  As they set up their song with Pandora, Jamie grabs my bottle of beer and slugs it down.

  ‘Hey! You’ll get my cooties,’ I say. ‘And what has you in such a bad mood? Missing Arietty, is that it?’

  ‘Jules, you really—’ But he’s interrupted by the opening bars of ‘Something Stupid Like I Love You’.

  ‘I like this one,’ I say. ‘Poor Declan. He looks mortified, doesn’t he?’

  Jamie says nothing. He really is in a grump this evening.

  Hester starts singing, her voice warbling a little like an opera singer. She turns towards Declan, a look of pure love on her face.

  ‘So sweet,’ I say, my eyes glued to Hester and Declan.

  Again, Jamie says nothing.

  Then Declan starts to join in, his voice surprisingly strong and Sinatra-smooth. Everyone starts cheering and clapping like it’s the X Factor.

  ‘He’s amazing,’ I say.

  Jamie shrugs. ‘I guess.’

  When the song ends, Pandora claps enthusiastically and immediately sets up another song.

  ‘Fantastic, Hester,’ she says. ‘And do you know this one?’ The opening bars of ‘I’ve Got You, Babe’ ring out.

  Hester smiles. ‘No, but I’m sure Declan does. I’m sorry, I didn’t introduce you two properly earlier. Declan this is Pandora; Pandora, Declan, my son.’

  Pandora and Declan smile at each other and once again Declan sticks out his hand for Pandora to shake.

  ‘Why don’t you join him instead, dear?’ Hester adds. ‘He loves a good sing-song.’

  Declan rolls his eyes at Pandora and she laughs.

  ‘You really don’t have to,’ Declan tells her.

  ‘No, I’d be happy to,’ Pandora says. ‘When they hear how bad I am, it’ll encourage other people to give it a go. I’ll set the song up again.’