Sushi for Beginners - Marian Keyes [65]
‘Hi,’ he mouthed, and gave her a huge smile, holding her eyes, projecting warmth. As if we have some understanding, Ashling thought uncomfortably. He thinks I came here specially to see him.
He continued talking for a short time longer, but kept sneaking looks, then touched Lisa’s arm in valediction and came over.
‘Hello again.’
‘Hello.’
‘What are you doing here?’
She paused, looked up from under her lashes and smiled. ‘I thought Macy Gray was playing.’ Fuck! she realized. I’m flirting with him.
His laugh was appreciative. ‘Did you enjoy the show?’
‘Uh-huh.’ She nodded and did that eyelash look again.
‘Will you let me take you out for a drink sometime?’
Now that would teach her. She was like a rabbit caught in headlights, who’d bitten off more than she could chew. As it were.
I can’t fancy him just because he’s famous and admired. That would make me very shallow.
‘OK.’ Her voice had decided to go on ahead without her. ‘Call me.’
‘Your number…?’
‘You have it.’
‘Give it to me again to be on the safe side.’
Marcus began an elaborate pantomime of patting himself, vaguely seeking a pen and paper.
Luckily, Ashling had the equivalent of a small stationery cupboard in her bag. She scribbled her name and phone number on a page torn from a notebook.
‘I’ll treasure this,’ he said, folding it small and shoving it deep into the front pocket of his jeans. ‘Next to my heart,’ he promised, in a tone dense with innuendo. ‘I’m leaving now, but I’ll be in touch.’
Confused with herself, Ashling watched him leave. Then, aware that Lisa was looking at her with amusement, she escaped to the ladies’. Where her path to the wash-basin was partially blocked by a small girl with tragic eyes who was standing in front of the mirror, renewing her eye-liner and making herself look even more tragic. As Ashling turned the tap on, the tragic girl turned to her taller friend, who was idly doing circle after circle of jammy pink lip-gloss on her mouth, and said, ‘Frances, you’ll never believe it, but that was me, you know.’
‘What was?’
‘The girl who Marcus Valentine gave that Bellez-moi note to.’
Ashling jerked violently, hooshing water down her front. No one noticed.
Frances did a slow, incredulous body-turn, her lip-gloss applicator frozen against her mouth. Her tragic friend elaborated, ‘It was last Christmas, we stood next to each other for two hours in a taxi-queue.’
‘But why didn’t you bellez him?’ Frances levered her lip-gloss wand away from her mouth and vigorously shook the tragic girl by the shoulders. ‘He’s yummy. Yummy!’
‘I just thought he was some freckly eejit.’
Frances surveyed the shorter girl for a long, thoughtful time before delivering judgement. ‘Do you know something, Linda O’Neill? You deserve your unhappiness, you really do. I’ll never feel sorry for you again.’
Ashling, still washing her hands like someone in the terminal stages of obsessive compulsive disorder, was mesmerized. She spent her entire life looking for Signs, and if this wasn’t a Sign, then she didn’t know what was. Give it a lash with Marcus Valentine, the celestial oracle was urging her. Even if he was handing out Bellez-moi notes like they were flyers, she had a good feeling about this. A very good feeling.
When Ashling re-emerged, Lisa was about to leave. Now that she’d got what she wanted, she saw no reason to hang around this low-rent club any longer.
‘Bye then, see you at work on Monday,’ Ashling said, awkwardly, not sure how chummy she should be.
Lisa wriggled through the crowds, her face satisfied. Not a bad night’s work. Seeing Marcus Valentine had convinced her that he was certainly worth pursuing. Though it wouldn’t be easy. He wasn’t half as guileless in real life. In fact, he was smart – and slippery. Lisa suspected