Are You Ready?

by Amanda Hearty

  ‘I think it’s way too soon, Ali. I’m sorry. Please don’t give him my number.’ Ali said nothing, and instead started chatting about her upcoming hen party.

  As Molly walked back to work after lunch she couldn’t stop thinking about the singer, Will, and the thought of dating again. Even though she wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, there was a small part of her that got lonely and kept wanting to ring Luke. Sometimes she longed to forget about the arguments and promise to be the girlfriend he wanted. But she would always see sense in time, and turn her phone off. Even if she didn’t want him back, though, how could she date so soon? Luke had been her life for years, had been the person she woke up beside every day, and now the thought of kissing or even holding hands with someone else made her feel uneasy. The last few weeks had been hard, and she swung between missing Luke and feeling she was better off without him, and needed to find a guy who would appreciate her work and understand her passion for it. Living at home was also a rollercoaster: she loved having her mum there to constantly chat to and cook with, but other days it drove her mad when her mum kept asking her if she would be home for dinner and what she would like to eat. Her mum couldn’t understand that some days Molly wanted to be able to meet a friend at the last minute after work, or was in the mood for Eddie Rocket’s and not beef stew. Often, too, Molly had eaten enough at work, and just didn’t feel like a big home-cooked meal. If I hear my mum complain one more time that she bought an extra chicken breast for me that will now go to waste, I’ll eat one raw just to please her! Molly thought to herself. As she walked into Heavenly she could see things had picked up. She quickly tied up her dark hair, put on her work apron and headed for the hot kitchen.

  The following afternoon Molly had a huge order to deliver to Sterling Bank. They had a client conference, and so herself and her cousin Eve had to deliver not only all the usual orders, but a selection of sandwiches, quiches and tarts to the large conference room. As they walked into the bank, Molly told her cousin about the singer of the band, and him asking for her number.

  ‘Wow, sounds exciting, go for it!’

  ‘Eve, I think it might be too soon,’ Molly said, not sure that Eve would understand.

  ‘Molly, I know you must miss Luke, and much as I always got on well with him, I have to say I think he treated you badly. This rock star might not be the guy for you, but don’t close yourself off from meeting guys just because Luke was too foolish to see you were the perfect girl. You have to get used to going out and meeting new people. Just think about this Will guy, and if nothing else it could be fun to go and see him play. We could be his groupies!’

  Molly laughed as she entered the conference room and left the picnic baskets full of freshly cooked food on the large mahogany table. Next they began to hand out sandwiches to their usual customers. As they approached Scott Williams’s desk, he put down the phone and smiled at Molly.

  ‘How is my favourite cook?’

  Molly smiled back politely, and handed him his usual boring sandwich. She had been embarrassed around him ever since he had dropped her home that day.

  ‘I’m fine, Scott, thanks. Your office is certainly busy today.’

  ‘Oh yeah, we’ve had all these big clients with us all week, and it’s been one long round of meetings, but this weekend we are having our annual summer barbecue, and inviting not only them but all our best clients and suppliers. You should come,’ Scott said. He handed her an invite.

  Molly read that the bank were having a large barbecue with music and games at the Royal Dublin Society club that Saturday.

  ‘You are one of our best suppliers, you know! And maybe you would like to come, too,’ he said to Eve, who had suddenly appeared beside Molly.

  Eve read the invite.

  ‘We would love to. I’m always up for a barbecue. It will be fun.’

  Molly could have kicked her cousin, there was no way she wanted to go a barbecue with Scott Williams, but it was too late. Scott was already telling Eve the best time to come.

  ‘Not too early as it’s all kids and face-painting then, but not too late as we’ll all be too drunk to enjoy your company!’

  Eve laughed, told Scott they would see him in a few days, and walked out of the office with Molly.

  ‘Before you say anything, Molly,’ she said, ‘the barbecue will be fun, and he is a good client of ours, so we are going. We’ve no other plans for Saturday night, and I don’t want you staying in moping over Luke and baking cookies! I’m sure with the lure of free barbecue food André will want to come as well.’

  Molly liked Eve’s boyfriend, André, and knew that at least if he was there Eve wouldn’t spend the whole barbecue trying to set her up with new guys.

  ‘Fine, but we’ll just pop in for an hour, and then go. I don’t want to spend my Saturday night talking about sandwiches with clients.’

  88

  On Saturday afternoon Molly was in her bedroom trying to decide what to wear. A barbecue was a tough challenge. She didn’t want to be too casual as there were going to be a lot of potential clients there, but she didn’t want Scott to think she was dressing up for him, either. I need something in-between a deb’s dress and a bikini, she laughed to herself. Eventually she decided on a pair of white cut-off trousers and a blue Roxy string top, along with white wedge shoes and a pair of very fashionable oversized sunglasses propped on top of her long, thick dark hair. As she put on a beaded bracelet she had picked up in Mexico years ago she heard Eve beeping her car horn outside. Molly felt a bit nervous heading off like this: she was used to just hanging out with Luke and her own friends, and was not the best person at meeting new people. But it was too late now, so she shouted goodbye to her mum, and headed out to the car. Eve was driving and André was turning up his favourite CD, Moon Safari by Air. It was the only French band Eve would let him listen to, so it got played a lot! Molly squeezed into the back of Eve’s black Mini.

  ‘You look great, Molly,’ said André. ‘No wonder you have rock stars falling for you.’

  Molly gave Eve a dirty look. Why had she told André about Will?

  ‘He is not a rock star, and no one is falling for me, but thanks anyway, André.’

  They were in the RDS within minutes.

  ‘Wow!’ exclaimed Eve as they handed the security man their invite, and started to realize that this ‘barbecue’ was about more than just burgers. Not only was there a professional kitchen set-up with tables of buffet-style food, and plenty of kids running around with their faces painted and balloon animals trailing behind them, there was also a small funfair, and Molly could see the head of the Sterling Bank on a bumper car. There was a lively band belting out Van Morrison’s ‘Brown Eyed Girl’, while the beer tent seemed to have hundreds of men in boardshorts and sunglasses crowded around it.

  Molly, Eve and André made their way to the queue for the burgers.

  ‘Wow, the bank must be doing well to be able to throw this kind of party,’ Eve exclaimed, as she filled her plate high with chips, salad and chicken kebabs. Molly was impressed, too: the food was simple enough, but perfect for the throngs of kids and families, and the funfair and music were totally unexpected. André found them a table right in front of the band, and as they half-swayed, half-ate their food to some U2 hits, Scott Williams appeared out of nowhere wearing beige chinos, and a crisp white shirt.

  ‘Molly, it’s great to see you.’ He smiled as he introduced himself to André.

  Molly tried to swallow back her burger, which she’d rammed into her mouth. Eventually she was able to smile back, and thank Scott for his generous invite.

  ‘No problem, sure if a bank can afford to throw a party like this, then the more the merrier! I think you would have cooked a better burger, but it is your day off, I suppose.’

  ‘Oh, she would, Scott. She really is the best cook in the world. Molly, you should cook Scott something special, rather than making him a sandwich, someday,’ Eve added.

  Molly glared at Eve. Scott Williams was ni
ce, but he was just a client. What was Eve playing at? But Scott didn’t comment on Eve’s proposed dinner date, and instead told André that they were starting a game of tag-rugby soon if he was interested. The word rugby was like sweet music to André’s ears, and before the girls could say anything he and Scott had walked off to the back fields to get kitted out.

  Once Scott left, Molly was able to relax again, and herself and Eve made their way over to the funfair. Molly hadn’t been on a big wheel for years, but Eve persuaded her and before long they were high over Ballsbridge, overlooking the whole of Dublin. The sight was beautiful, but Molly’s thoughts turned to Luke, and she wondered where in the big city he was, and what he was doing. Eve chatted away about her summer plans and her proposed trip to André’s family in the South of France. Molly half-listened but couldn’t stop herself thinking of Luke, or rather the lack of Luke, and wondering what would happen that summer. She knew Eve was right, and she had to move on from Luke and open herself up to new people, and in particular new guys, but it was hard. Hard to have the confidence to get out there and meet new men. Molly knew from her single girlfriends that there might be guys out there, but not many of them were good. It was going to be tough.

  ‘Molly, are you listening?’ Eve said, breaking into her train of thought. ‘I was just saying that Scott seems like a very generous and sweet guy, to invite us all here.’

  ‘Yeah, it is a fun way to spend a Saturday afternoon, but I’m sure he invited plenty of other people, not just us – his sandwich makers,’ Molly said.

  Eve said nothing, and instead steered Molly towards the bumper cars. They spent thirty minutes banging into each other and the many teenagers who seemed hell-bent on trying to crash into as many people as possible. Molly was dizzy with all the spinning, so decided to take a break, and headed for the candy floss stand. As she ate the light and fluffy sugar candy, she saw André and Scott trying to shoot little plastic ducks. She joined them.

  ‘Oh, Molly, maybe you can help Scott here. I can’t bring myself to hurt these little ducks!’

  André thrust the plastic gun into Molly’s hand. Molly was reluctant at first, but before long was having a great time as she and Scott worked together to try and get as many ducks assassinated as possible, in order to win prizes. Eventually she was laughing so much she could no longer play, and handed her gun to some little children. The man behind the stand asked Scott what prizes he wanted.

  ‘You did all the work, Molly, you pick.’ Molly chose a large teddy bear and a Hello Kitty plastic watch.

  ‘It is great to see all the long hours I work earning the bank money go into buying such superb things for everyone.’ Scott laughed and picked up the teddy bear.

  Molly wrapped the watch, around her wrist. Scott smiled as they walked back side by side to join Eve and André, who were dancing to the band.

  ‘Who wants drinks?’ Scott said, heading for the bar.

  As they sipped their beers Molly realized that Eve was right: she had just needed to go out and do new things. Her life with Luke was over, she needed to be open to different experiences and people. The day had been so much fun, and Molly was delighted Eve had forced her to come. Just then she got a call from Ali, saying they were going to see Set List one more time tonight, and did she want to come? It would be a chance to see that guy Will again, and earlier Molly would have said it was too soon, but today had taught her change was necessary, so she texted Ali back and said she would be in town as soon as she could. She went to say goodbye to Scott but couldn’t find him. So, as she wished goodnight to her cousin and André, she asked them to thank Scott on her behalf. She started to walk out to Anglesea Road to catch a taxi to Temple Bar, and suddenly saw Scott deep in conversation with a beautiful young girl. Their heads were bent together, so Molly decided not to disturb him. That must be his girlfriend, Molly thought, as she flagged down a taxi.

  89

  Sarah was having breakfast with her mum before going to work in the gallery, when the post arrived.

  ‘There is one for you, Sarah,’ said her mum, handing her a large gold envelope. Sarah opened it up and actually gasped. It was Ali and Robin’s wedding invitation with her drawing on the front! Seeing her work in print made it feel so real, made her feel like a real artist.

  ‘Sarah, it is beautiful, well done. I knew you still had that artist inside you, wow,’ her mum said as she hugged Sarah and stared at the invitation.

  Ali had included some spare invites in the envelope, and a cheque for Sarah’s work. Sarah had felt uneasy being paid, but Ali had insisted. Sarah stood one of the cards up on the windowsill, and when the sun shone in on top of it, she felt like it was an invitation to her own wedding, she was so proud! The whole way to work Sarah just kept smiling; she was chuffed with herself, the invite looked so professional and beautiful. As she opened up the Stone Studio she received a text from Molly congratulating her on the ‘most original and stunning wedding invitation ever!’ Sarah was delighted, and as she unpacked the day’s new canvases and paintings she started to imagine that one day someone would unpack her work and hang it on the walls of a gallery like this one. It had been her dream once to be a full-time artist. Maybe it could be again, she thought, as she began photographing and cataloguing new pieces for the gallery.

  By lunch Sarah had all the new work ready to be hung, and was waiting for Clodagh to come in. Clodagh was helping her get prepared for the gallery’s latest exhibition, which was opening that night. Sarah grabbed a sandwich and coffee in the newsagent’s next door, and as she ate she flicked through the property section of the daily newspaper. She would still like to grow up and finally live in her own place, but it was hard to find somewhere she liked and could afford. It was too early to talk to Hugh about buying somewhere, and all her friends either had places or, like her, couldn’t afford to leave home. As she circled places she might look at over the weekend Clodagh walked in.

  ‘Still trying to move?’ Clodagh said, as she noticed the newspaper.

  ‘I wish,’ Sarah sighed.

  ‘Well, at least you have a full-time job. Imagine how hard it is for me. I would love to move away from home, but being a student who works part-time means nothing to a bank, especially when they hear I’m an art student. Nobody wants to lend money to artists, we might be creative but we are too unreliable, too much of a risk. I can’t even get a meeting with my bank manager! I should have studied accountancy or something boring and reliable like that.’

  Sarah laughed, but she did feel sorry for artists. She knew how hard it was to spend days, weeks, months on work, and then for it not to sell. It was a tough life, and money was always a problem, and if she became a full-time artist she would have to cope with that. But now she needed to spend the afternoon getting this evening’s exhibition up and running.

  90

  The gallery was filling up, and with a David Gray CD playing in the background and the wine flowing, there was an air of excitement about the unveiling of the gallery’s new collection of pieces from an up-and-coming French artist. Sarah was just handing out some exhibition brochures when she got a shock: Maggie McCartney, the gallery’s owner, was walking in the door. The months of living in her villa in Marbella had obviously paid off. She looked great: tanned and healthy. She walked up to Sarah and gave her a big hug.

  ‘Sorry to surprise you like this, Sarah darling. I swear I’m not trying to spy on you! Just this morning my husband had to come home to Ireland for some business, and at the last minute I thought to hell with it, I’d come too. I knew we had this exhibition tonight, and to be honest a few days away from paella, siestas and chorizo will do me good!’

  Sarah was very surprised to see her boss, but was instantly relieved that the gallery was packed and looking impressive.

  ‘Thank God we hoovered earlier,’ whispered Clodagh, as she poured wine for their guests. Sarah laughed her agreement. Maggie will find nothing wrong with this place, she thought. The evening was a huge success, and not only did th
e gallery earn a hefty commission and sell many pieces, but the artist promised to do more for them, and to spread the word to his other artist friends. Clodagh finished tidying up, and then headed home, leaving Maggie and Sarah sitting down enjoying a glass of wine.

  As Sarah filled Maggie in on Hugh, and her sister’s new baby, Maggie thanked her for running the gallery so well, and always keeping her informed of what was happening. ‘You have such a great eye, Sarah. Some of these new pieces are great buys for us, well done. I actually have the name of a new artist I want you to contact. If you have a pen there I’ll write his name and number down.’

  Sarah opened her oversized handbag to search for a pen. She had to unload her iPod, diary and wallet to find it, and as she did so the wedding invite fell out. Maggie picked it up.

  ‘Wow, who did this? It’s beautiful. Is this a wedding you are going to?’

  ‘Well, yes, I’m going, but I also designed that invite. It’s my work.’ Sarah blushed.

  Maggie looked shocked.

  ‘Sarah, this work is completely different from your old pieces. It’s far more commercial. I love this kind of free illustration, and you’ve a great sense of colour. I could sell this! You know there is a growing market for illustrative work like this, and I’m always on the lookout for new artists. You are an untapped treasure.’

  Sarah didn’t know what to say, but Maggie did.

  ‘Please tell me that there is more like this – lovely pieces to frame and sell. There are buyers crying out for work like yours.’

  Sarah shook her head. ‘Oh, Maggie. I’d love to work as a full-time artist, you know that, but it didn’t work out for me years ago, and I wouldn’t even know where to start, or how to fund myself.’

  ‘You don’t know where to start? Sarah you have already started. This is beautiful, so different,’ Maggie exclaimed, as she placed the invite on a large glass table beside two large bronzes. Seeing her work on show alongside the sculptures, Sarah began to think: Maybe I could do this, maybe I should be an artist, a proper artist.