Sushi for Beginners - Marian Keyes [112]
Ashling’s turn again. ‘Do you have a job, you know, apart from, er, being funny?’
‘I write software for Cablelink, to do with upgrading the network to fibre optics.’
‘Er, is that so?’
‘Fascinating stuff,’ he smiled ruefully. ‘No wonder I have to do stand-up. And what do you do?’
Oh-oh. ‘I work for a women’s magazine.’
‘What’s it called?’
‘Ah, er, Colleen.’
‘Colleen?’ His expression changed. ‘They’re on at me to write a column. Lisa someone.’
‘Edwards. Lisa Edwards. She’s my boss,’ Ashling admitted, feeling guilty even though there was no need.
Suspicion altered his face into something hard and cold. ‘Is that why you came out with me? To persuade me to write a column?’
‘No! Not at all.’ She had a horror of being thought pushy. ‘I’ve nothing to do with it and I don’t care if you never do it.’
Not exactly true. If he agreed to do the column it’d be a feather in her cap, but she wasn’t going to press it. But she was moved by his insecurity and out of nowhere a protective urge sprang to life in her.
‘Honestly,’ she said softly, ‘I’m only here with you because I want to be. Nothing to do with anything else.’
‘OK,’ he nodded thoughtfully. Then he laughed, ‘I believe you, you’ve an honest face.’
Ashling screwed up her nose. ‘God, what an awful thing to have.’ She indicated his empty pint glass. ‘More tea, vicar?’
‘Oh? No. Ashling, can I ask you,’ his tone was apologetic, ‘would you mind if we dropped into a comedy gig? Just for half an hour? There’s someone that I’d love to have a look at.’
‘Sure, why not?’ This clearly wasn’t going to be a soft-lighting-and-expensive-dinner kind of date. Just as well, really.
The gig was only a couple of streets away, in another pub. Marcus was greeted at the door like royalty and, to Ashling’s amusement, both of them were waved through without having to pay. In the crowded room, people kept coming up to him – mostly other comedians – and Marcus introduced Ashling to all of them. I could get used to this, she thought.
The gig was similar to the others Ashling had been at. Loads of people crammed into a small dark room, with a tiny patch of stage in the corner. The comedian Marcus was interested in modelled himself on a manic depressive and called himself Lithium Man.
When he finished his ten-minute stint, Marcus touched Ashling lightly. ‘We can go now.’
‘But I don’t mind if we stay…’
He shook his head. ‘No. I want to talk to you.’
He smiled through the gloom, and Ashling suddenly noticed that though he was ordinary, he erred on the good-looking side of it.
When they were resettled in another pub, Marcus asked, ‘So what did you think of Lithium Man?’
Ashling paused. ‘To be honest, I didn’t really like him.’
‘Yeah? How so?’ Marcus seemed very interested in her opinion, and she was flattered.
‘I don’t think it’s clever to make fun of mental illness,’ she admitted. ‘Not unless you’re really funny, and he wasn’t.’
‘And who do you think is funny?’ he asked, intently.
‘Well, you obviously.’ She laughed a bit shrilly at that, but he didn’t seem to mind. ‘Who do you like?’
‘Well, me obviously.’ They giggled conspiratorially at that. ‘And Samuel Beckett.’
Ashling squealed with laughter until she realized he was serious. Shite.
‘I think he’s the best comic writer of the century,’ Marcus enthused.
‘I once saw Waiting for Godot,’ Ashling said tentatively. No need to mention that it was a school outing and she hadn’t been able to make head nor tail of it. But apart from the Beckett hiccup, the evening passed without incident. The drinks flowed and Marcus was charming and interested in her. Because of his freckles, she was relaxed around him and told him lots of things. About her salsa classes – she had to admit she was thrilled she’d actually taken it up because she must seem like a person with ‘interests’ – her fondness for handbags and how, lots of the time, she loved her new job on Colleen. ‘Although that’s not a hint,’ she said, suddenly anxious.