‘Orlagh. Hey…’ he replies, his voice squeaking a little.
‘You’re Grace, from school,’ she says to me.
‘I am.’ I really don’t know what to do here. Sam doesn’t want to let on that this is a date and, to be fair, I don’t want this to be fodder for the school gate either. But then how will this appear to Ellie and Ryan?
‘These are my friends, Ellie and Ryan. I was just making some introductions because they’re starting up their own business and needed some IT support. I’ve been doing their accounts,’ I reply.
Ellie glances over at me. Play ball, hun.
‘Yes, we have opened a restaurant,’ she says, in strange mock British tones like she’s married into royalty. ‘It’s plant-based.’ It’s either the alcohol or her terrible acting skills. Ryan nods in agreement. Jordan waves at everyone.
‘So a business meeting?’ Orlagh asks suspiciously, looking at all the bottles lined up on the table.
‘Of sorts,’ Sam says.
‘We’re just on a night out,’ Orlagh says, folding her body into Jordan’s.
I sense Sam examining every movement between the two of them, the way they’re conjoined at the hip, how she’s casual in where she places her hands. Do I do the same? I can just grab him by the crotch to make her feel the same level of distress he obviously feels. What I really want to do is hug him.
‘Well, enjoy. It’s good to see you out for once, Sam. You were always such a homebody.’
Oh, Orlagh. Don’t. You’re halfway to saying he was boring and he’s not. I don’t know what to do to remedy this.
‘Sam? Are we talking about the same Sam?’ Ellie suddenly says, seeming to forget her put-on accent and falling back into her broad Australian tones.
Sam looks over at her strangely.
‘He’s a fucking riot. How many times have we met up now? Each time, we end up at a club. A casino. Remember that time you took us for burlesque? I thought I could hold my alcohol… but this man? This man is a legend.’
Sam looks over at Orlagh curiously. Club, maybe. Casino and burlesque make him sound like he’s traded in his Honda Accord for an Aston Martin and a new playboy agenda complete with bunnies and a burgundy robe.
‘Can’t think of anyone else I’d rather have look after our business. What do you do, Jordy?’ asks Ellie.
Jordan realises that’s his cue to speak. ‘I work at a cinema.’ God, he even sounds young. I’m not sure if his voice has fully broken yet.
‘But he’s going for a supervisor role, aren’t you babe?’ Orlagh interrupts him.
‘Well, we need to talk about those spreadsheets, Sam, so I think we should get back on it. Also chat about taking my brand global. Another bottle of wine, maybe?’ Ellie adds. ‘So lovely to meet you, Jordy and Olly. What is that? Is that a name?’
I look down and smile. The girl does have her uses and, for a moment, I get that Tom would have been highly amused and drawn to that candour, that confidence.
‘It’s Orlagh.’
‘Oh. Yeah. Have a good evening. I recommend the Shiraz. It’s Aussie too.’
Orlagh pulls at Jordan’s arm and strides away while I literally hear Sam deflate with relief. He looks unsure whether he wants to laugh or cry.
‘I’ve literally got bras older than him,’ Ellie says. I try not to laugh. Not because it was funny but her volume is still set to max. The whole bar heard that, didn’t they?
* * *
We order another bottle at the bar and Ellie uses it as an opportunity to be a bit louder and play into our charade. She actually goes over and sits in Sam’s lap at one point and also dances to the toilets. It looks choreographed, like it’s a well-used routine. Had it just been me and Sam he’d have sat there getting drunker and more embarrassed by the situation. And drunker. I wouldn’t have had the nerve to stand up to Orlagh. With Ellie, he finally had the arsenal to fight back.
We’ve now left and are milling around the Millennium Square area of the waterfront, gazing into the fountains and walking Ellie and Ryan back to their hotel. She weaves her arm through mine and huddles in close. She always afforded me such intimacy, even when we first met. I remember going to her flat and she told me we’d be sharing a bed together because her sofa had been invaded by moths. OK then. I used to find her spooned into me in the mornings, literally in just her pants and a vest top.
‘So basically, he’s just giving you a root to get over the ex-wife?’ Ellie asks candidly.
‘We root each other, it’s a mutual rooting.’
