Sushi for Beginners - Marian Keyes [147]
Some time later Ashling saw Clodagh smiling at Jack Devine with the tip of her tongue poking out saucily through her teeth. Then Bicycle Billy got the same treatment. Oh no! It was her I’m-gorgeous-and-I-know-it smile, at least that was what she thought. But to quote Phelim on it, it was her scary-old-bat-from-Benny-Hill leer.
The next time Ashling looked, Clodagh had deteriorated markedly. With the slinkiness of an affectionate cat, she was rubbing her face against people’s shoulders and explaining with charming bleariness to everyone, ‘I’ve two children, so I don’t get out much.’ She hugged Lisa and said earnestly, ‘I’m pissed! You see, I don’t get out much.’ Then she saw Ashling looking and exclaimed, Oh Ashling, I’m pissed. Are you cross with me?’
But before Ashling could demur, Clodagh had turned away and, skimming over the top of her words, was explaining to Mark Dignan, ‘I’ve two chirn, soadoan get out much.’
Marcus was last on the bill and as he took the stage Clodagh was whispering and giggling with Jack Devine. Ashling was annoyed, she’d really been looking forward to showing off how good her boyfriend was.
‘Shush,’ she elbowed Clodagh, then indicated the stage.
‘Sorry,’ Clodagh said loudly – too loudly. Then proceeded to absolutely scream with laughter at everything Marcus said. When, amid rapturous applause, he returned to the table, Clodagh propelled herself into his arms and insisted, ‘You were HILARIOUS!’
Marcus gently disentangled himself from her and steered her back to her seat beside Ashling. As he sat down he squeezed Ashling’s hand and gave her a secret smile.
‘She’s right,’ Ashling murmured, ‘You were hilarious.’
‘Thanks,’ he mouthed, and they shared a moment of warm mutual regard, which went on for far longer than was decent.
‘Is that it, then?’ Clodagh demanded. ‘No more funny stuff. Do we have to go home?’
‘Jesus, no!’ Jimmy Bond looked aghast. ‘Late bar until two.’
‘Brilliant!’ Clodagh exclaimed and promptly knocked over someone’s glass. It clattered against the table and sent a stream of lager rushing over Bicycle Billy’s thighs. ‘Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorry,’ Clodagh insisted, fuzzily. ‘God, I’m verr sorry.’
‘Ah, the poor thing,’ Ted sympathized. In unison, most of the table chorused, ‘She doesn’t get out much.’
Mark Dignan had just rejoined them and took in the scene, Bicycle Billy rubbing his soaked legs with the sleeve of his jacket, Clodagh apologizing thickly. Before anyone started to condemn her, Mark had some news for them. ‘She’s got two children,’ he confided and furrowed his brow to urge compassion, ‘so she doesn’t get out much.’
Next Clodagh started up a long, huddled head-to-head with a woman from another table. They looked as though they were solving the problems of the world, but when Ashling eaves-dropped, all they seemed to be saying to each other was, ‘If you don’t have chirn yourself, you can’t understan’.’ ‘Thass right. If you don’t have chirn yourself, you can’t understan’.’
Then Clodagh went to the loo, and when she hadn’t returned to their table after ten minutes Ashling anxiously scanned the room and saw her in intimate conversation with a trio of girls. The next time she looked, Clodagh was laughing with a man. Shortly after that Clodagh was talking to two boys, making elaborate hand gestures that looked exactly like she was demon-strating how to express breast milk. But she seemed happy – and so did the two boys – so Ashling decided to let her alone. Not long afterwards Ashling went to the bar and as she placed her order she saw Clodagh weaving between tables, then bumping into one, sending a dozen drinks rocking. ‘Whoops!’ she exclaimed loudly.
Two men leaning on the bar were also watching Clodagh.
‘That was close,’ one remarked, as the drinks just managed to pull themselves back from toppling.
‘Ah, yeah,’ the other replied, ‘but she has two kids so she doesn’t get out much.’
‘Excuse me, could you change one of those Red Squares to a Red Bull?’ Ashling, on impulse, asked the barman. Clodagh had had enough to drink.