ABBY
‘How’s work, Abby?’ Kerry asks before taking a sip of her Pinot Grigio.
‘Did you hear the show on Tuesday? Ten Ways to Tell if Your Partner is Being Unfaithful.’ I relay Kara’s advice about the mileage.
‘I heard it. Kara was brilliant.’ Emma flicks her glossy hair back from her shoulder and glances at two middle-aged men on the neighbouring table. I observe her subconscious movements in awe. No wonder men flock to her. She claims she attracts all of the wrong ones, but it hasn’t deterred her from serial dating in her never-ending quest to find the right one.
‘Tell me about it.’ The jingle was played every day this week. Kara’s voice has become one of my firm favourites.
‘The poor woman, but the way she told her story was absolutely hilarious,’ Emma says.
‘There’s actually a competition running within the station at the minute,’ I whisper as discreetly as possible.
‘Oh.’ Karen leans forward in interest. She’s one of those people who luck seemed to follow, forever winning Facebook competitions and random raffle prizes. Last year, she even won ten grand on a Credit Union draw, which enabled her to spend a couple of months touring Europe with a friend called Eve.
‘This is one competition you won’t win, because you can’t enter.’ I relay the details, and they squeal in high-pitched excitement at the mention of M.O.D.E.R.N.
‘You need to win that prize.’ Karen refills our glasses, draining the remainder of the bottle.
‘Such an opportunity.’ Emma uses the one specific word that I deliberately avoided.
‘Oh no.’ Karen’s face sinks as she realises the first of Esmerelda’s predictions came true.
‘It’s a coincidence,’ I say ‘Technically it’s a competition, not an opportunity.’ My words seem to placate her.
‘So what do you need to do in order to win it?’ Emma leans in attentively.
‘Achieve the highest ratings by the beginning of August. I have a little under three months to work it.’
The waitress arrives at the table with her pen in hand to take an order.
‘Sorry, can we have five more minutes?’
She repeats the daily specials and leaves again.
‘What are you thinking?’ Kerry adjusts the strap of her one shouldered top.
‘Food-wise?’ I look at the menu, hungry all of a sudden. ‘No, the show.’ Emma rolls her eyes playfully at me.
‘Find the most controversial, current topic you can and pull the heartstrings of the nation. That’s your forte,’ Karen says.
‘I was thinking something similar.’ I place my menu down in front of me again. ‘But I think I need a man.’
‘Abby Queenan, you haven’t had a man in the entire time we’ve known you,’ Kerry says in surprise. ‘Either that or you’ve kept him chained to the bedpost.’ She sniggers at such an implausible thought.
I’ve never disclosed the extent of my aversion to men. Karen knows, obviously. But we don’t discuss it. No point rehashing the past, the end result remains the same.
‘I don’t need a man myself. I need one to win the hearts of the nation. A show where women can ring in and ask the male perspective. You know how hard it is to get men to talk about feelings and stuff. It would be momentous if the women of the country had access to the deepest darkest thoughts of one, even if it was for one time only.’ I bite my lower lip thoughtfully, before remembering my scarlet lipstick.
‘Abby Queenan, that’s absolutely brilliant.’ Emma clinks her wine glass against mine in a salute. High praise from the ambitious owner of three, soon to be four, hair and beauty salons over Dublin – she doesn’t mince her words.
‘The only trouble is, I need a man that the women of Ireland will be clawing over themselves to actually talk to. He has to be hot. Young, but not too youthful. Successful, but approachable. It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack.’
‘You are preaching to the converted, sister. If you find a man like that, be sure to give him my number,’ Emma says.
‘I never said he had to be single. In fact, his relationship status never occurred to me.’
‘It might help. Get all the flustered housewives in a tizzy thinking about him.’ Karen nods.
