Through the steamy glass door, she could see the pub was already hopping, what with Thursday being the new Friday, while the ultra-early Christmas lights twinkled alongside kitschy tinsel. She felt a quick flash of trepidation, then took a deep breath and pushed open the door. Battling her way through a forest of tall men’s elbows, she spotted Rosemarie sitting at the bar, looking tense. She waved, causing her friend’s face to light up with relief.
Ally hoisted herself up on a bar stool and ordered an Aperol spritz, before slipping out of her coat.
‘Oh Jesus, look at you with the denim.’ Rosemarie looked genuinely alarmed.
‘What’s wrong with it?’
‘There’s a crowd of off-duty Guards over there – they must be over here from Garda headquarters in the park – and you’ll be giving them The Sign.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Denim. A woman in denim is a Garda magnet. Everyone knows that, and tonight we’re supposed to be after the IT lads. I don’t know what to do with you at all.’
There did seem to be an inordinate amount of very tall, well-built young men with fresh faces and short hair, laughing loudly into each other’s faces.
‘They’re not minding us, Rosemarie, would you stop.’
‘Not yet .?.?.’ she observed apocalyptically.
Apparently, William’s crowd weren’t due in until eight, so that meant they’d a little while to wait and – as Rosemarie put it – they’d be warmed up but not plastered. It appeared the rest of the patrons had started well before them, and the noise, not to mention the testosterone level, in the air was on the way up. Atone point Ally distinctly felt a large hand on her backside, as a guy allegedly righted his balance as he passed.
‘Sarry.’ A Heineken breath hit the side of her neck. Unfortunately, he’d got himself out of range, or she’d have aimed an ‘accidental’ kick at the back of his leg.
Just then she heard a squeal. ‘Ally, would you just look at you. You look ameezing!’
Ally did her best to swing around, only to come face to face with someone she hadn’t seen in a while. She checked with Rosemarie, who was looking guilty and trying to convey through her eyes alone that it hadn’t been her idea.
‘Hiiiiiii .?.?. Crystal.’
‘Wow, look at that figure. Why were you hiding that under all those dowdy clothes?’
Ally flinched.
‘We’ve all reeely missed you,’ she blabbed.
This was so clearly a lie and Ally nearly laughed but, frankly, there wasn’t any spare air to waste, so she plumped for the easy option.
‘You look great too.’
‘Thanks, I borrowed this top from my daughter who’s .?.?.seventeen.?.?. but we’re the same size. Can you believe it?’ she squealed.
Ally couldn’t.
Crystal was clearly delusional. The plunging silver top was bravely holding its own but likely to explode at any moment under the strain of her eye-popping cleavage.
‘I’m on my girls’ night out, so let’s partaaay,’ whooped Crystal, waving her drink in the air and swivelling her hips in the direction of the young guys, hoping to attract as much attention as possible. Rosemarie rolled her eyes.
‘Sorry, Al. She must have overheard me,’ she mouthed.
The atmosphere was getting hotter, largely due to the lads,who were starting to get down and boogie to the background music. Their night had obviously started a few hours previously, and Christmas was on the way. Suddenly, Ally became aware of a dark figure blotting out the light.
‘Do ya know wha’ .?.?. you’re buootiful ’n’ I luvva wummin ’n dennimm,’ slurred a chap who looked at least ten years younger than her, sloshing his pint in her direction for emphasis, which she just about managed to dodge.
‘Psssst, here they are,’ mouthed Rosemarie as her pointed boot dug into Ally’s shin. Ow.
‘Just act natural.’
As though she’d any option. She couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, could barely keep her balance among the heaving crowd. Her best chance was to cling onto the bar stool, which felt very far off the ground, with one hand, and her Aperol spritz with the other, and let fate take its course.
