They both cheered delightedly and high-fived each other across the miles.
‘That was a perfect reply, just perfect,’ said Josie. ‘You were totally in sync.’
‘That was kind of what I was going for,’ said Cassie, thrilled for once that she hadn’t screwed up.
* * *
They’d agreed to meet at seven o’clock at his apartment. But so many decisions: wine – red or white? Red could make her teeth go purple but white was too girly and might trigger her occasional allergy and bring on a sneezing attack. Red, then. Trousers or skirt? Jeans, keep it casual. But what about the top? Too skimpy would give the wrong impression. Plus, he might have the place at guy temperature, not girl temperature, and she’d be freezing. What was the right impression for dinner with a man she knew almost nothing about .?.?. Hiking jumper? Too hefty. Sparkly top? A month too late. Cream boat-necked top tucked into jeans and cute earrings? About right, just don’t slosh any of the red wine on it.
Mam had been riveted by the prospect of Cassie going on a date.
‘Don’t attempt to go out that door without showing me exactly what you’re wearing,’ she’d warned happily. ‘I can leave the alarm off for you in case you’re late back, and sure even if you’re not back, January is the lowest month for burglaries. I saw that onGarda Patrolone time. Apparently, the criminals are all at home watching Netflix, same as the rest of us, God love them.’
Eric was coming over that evening and Cassie had the distinct impression Mam was trying to get rid of her but just didn’t want to say so. As she was heading for the door, Mam stopped her.
‘Is that all you’re wearing? Is it not a bit plain?’
‘I just wanted to keep things low-key.’
‘You can be low-key when you’re dead.’
She couldn’t help noticing that Mam had changed into good jeans and a gorgeous floaty blouse over what looked very similar to the kind of simple top she herself was wearing. She had to admit that her mother looked decidedly more glamorous than she did. It was certainly a long way from the cosy fleeces she’d worn when Da was alive. Still, fair play to her. Cassie smiled to herself.
* * *
Finn opened the door wearing dark jeans and some sort of dark-green shirt that, she couldn’t help noticing, had two buttons open. She could smell his aftershave, which was .?.?. musky and something else she couldn’t quite identify, and he had a slight stubble which made her wonder what running her lips across that roughness might feel like .?.?.
‘Hey, come on in.’
The place behind him looked, well, kind of neutral. She noticed two bedrooms and apparently no flatmates, thank God. For a moment she felt overcome with shyness. After a week of secretly fantasising about Mr Balaclava, despite admonishment from her sensible self, here she was, stepping straight into his life. Into his apartment. He appeared a little bit flustered and stuck for words too. Thankfully, she remembered Da’s old saying: ‘When in doubt, just be nice. Ye can’t go wrong.’ Bless him. She smiled. Finn looked relieved and smiled too. They both stood like lemons, smiling at each other for a moment.
‘Wine? I’ve white in the fridge.’
‘Lovely, thanks.’
Feck the occasional allergy, she decided.
He vanished into the little open-plan kitchen behind the breakfast bar, with its pale marble countertop and dark wood, as she settled onto the green sofa and looked around. There wasn’t much to give away any clues about him as a person; in fact, if she were being honest, it all looked a bit bare. Was that a good thing? The place had that sweetish apartment smell that wasn’t of a person, more a situation. There was a big TV with a PS5 and an enormous dog bed by the gas fire, which was hissing away. Thor, true to his attachment issues, was staying close to his dad, especially with a stranger in the house. She’d noticed a set of golf clubs in the hallway, when he’d taken her coat as soon as she arrived.
‘I like your place.’
‘Thanks. It’s OK.’
There was something mournful about his tone. She was almost going to ask if he owned it, but something stopped her; it seemed highly unlikely. He handed her the chilled glass of wine and she took a larger gulp than she’d intended, due to nerves, which emboldened her.
‘Since I came back from London, I’ve been staying with Mam. Just for now.’
She felt a flush of embarrassment hearing the words out loud but, as Josie had pointed out, there was absolutely no point in pretending to be anything you weren’t. Spit it out and see how he takes it. Finn nodded gravely and shrugged. He seemed unbothered. Despite that, there was something intangible that felt .?.?. off. Like he was watching an inner movie at the same time as sitting in the room. And she didn’t know how to fix it, even though it felt like something that should be fixed. Why would you invite somebody for dinner and then be only half-there?
‘Finn?’
‘Sorry, I’m tired. I was on call last night, in case the system went down. Which it did.’
Oh dear.
‘You’re a gamer?’ she said, indicating the PlayStation.
He looked confused for a moment then lit up.
