We had run over our time but I had to ask her. ‘Do you think I could be a piano teacher if I haven’t got any qualifications?’
‘I think so, but you would probably have to get garda clearance first in order to work with children. Teaching requires a great deal of patience, but you’ve been learning that, every time, in this room. Garda clearance might be tricky, though, because of the incident with your dad’s remains. Let’s wait a while?’
That afternoon, I went to meet Sue and Mark for coffee. The waitress took orders without having to write them down. I could do that, but I couldn’t work in a place with such awful music playing. She smiled at everyone she talked to. I struck waitressing off my mental list of possible jobs.
Mark joined me first and, as he sat down, Sue came in. There was a lot of what I now know is called ‘small talk’ before the smiling waitress presented us with menus. Sue handed me a Jamie Oliver recipe book, and I gave her a sheaf of pages, recipes I had printed from the BBC Food website, plus the ones I’d copied from Caroline at the Texaco.
‘So you like to cook?’
‘Well, it passes the time, but it was better when Dad was alive, because there was someone to appreciate it.’
‘You should have a dinner party!’ said Mark.
I didn’t know what to say about that, so I changed the subject.
‘How is everything at Mervyn Park?’ I asked.
Sue’s husband, Kenneth, and Mark both worked there. Mark looked after the payroll systems.
‘I keep asking him to give Kenneth a pay rise,’ said Sue.
‘You know I would if I could. I’m guessing the company will only turn a profit in the fifth year of operations if we’re lucky.’
‘I’m only teasing, Mark,’ said Sue.
‘How about your job hunt? Anything on the horizon?’ Mark asked me.
‘It’s hard,’ I said, ‘I’m forty-four and I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up.’ That was my little joke, but neither of them laughed.
‘Ten-year-old Mark wanted to be a detective,’ said Mark.
‘I wanted to work in fashion,’ Sue said.
‘I think I only want to play the piano. I’m good at it.’
‘Really?’ said Mark. ‘Do you compose or just play?’
‘Sometimes I make up short little pieces, but I prefer to play. Debussy, Bach, John Field.’
‘Maybe you can play for us at your dinner party?’ said Mark, winking at Sue.
‘Oh, wouldn’t that be lovely?’ she said.
‘I don’t know. I’ve never had a party.’
‘Never? Not even when you were a child?’
Mark blinked slowly and Sue put her hand over her mouth.
‘Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean … I wasn’t thinking. I heard about … when you were a kid.’
‘I know, I asked Martha to explain when I left her party on Saturday.’
Mark looked at me earnestly. ‘I wish you hadn’t left in a hurry like that. There was nothing to be embarrassed about.’
‘Mark, are you interested in me romantically?’
Two red marks appeared on Mark’s pale cheeks.
