Page 51 of The Snag List
‘Absolutely. I’ll do it with you,’ she said, despite the words immediately making her feel practically woozy with terror. ‘It’ll be so cool.’ She smiled in a way that she very much hoped looked excited and not utterly petrified. ‘I’ll book the climbing right now.’ She kissed his temple, knowing he’d tolerate it, distracted as he was by his writing. ‘OK, now back to sleep, you.’
As she made her way out the door, he spoke again. ‘Can’t wait, Mom.’ And she felt lighter than she had in weeks. It had been a good day. She’d felt connected to Adam and her sweet boy seemed happy.
15
‘OH MY GOD, CAN YOU CHILL OUT WITH THE driving? You just took that corner in fifth gear – it’s fecking raining, hun.’ Holly clung to the passenger door beside Ailbhe. ‘What is the rush? On the run sheet, Seb said he wouldn’t even be arriving till later?’
TheVoices of Gloryrehearsals had been swinging (Flapping? Caterwauling? Flailing?) for three weeks now and Ailbhe’d successfully managed to keep Holly away from Seb the entire time – this was her first day on set since the gig started. Ailbhe had insisted Siobhán work with her but with Siobhán at a friend’s wedding and Holly standing in, it was going to be tricky. Ailbhe was counting on them getting in and out before Seb even showed up. Ailbhe chewed the inside of her cheek as she swung a left onto the Dunshanley Road, passing Epic, a long-closed nightclub they’d occasionally frequented back in their twenties.
‘The old haunt,’ Holly yelped. ‘The state of it now! Seb’s a bit of an old haunt of yours too, of course,’ she added conversationally. ‘Shut up, please,’ Ailbhe instructed. ‘That hadn’t even crossed my mind.’
‘Yeah, right, I’d say you near-rode him all over Dublin back then and now you’re just randomly all over this job.’
Ailbhe made the turn in to the community centre, relieved that Holly wouldn’t have time to pursue this conversation. She was right, of course – Ailbhewasall over this job, just not for the reasons Holly was thinking. If Seb showed up before they got out of there today, she needed to monitor Holly and Seb’s interactions. She didn’t want them talking about her and comparing any notes on her activities of the last year.
Seb had stayed a serial ‘what if’ for Ailbhe throughout her twenties. They were friends with a lot of the same people and constantly found themselves among the last ones up at parties, drifting with seeming inevitability towards each other only for some irritating dregs-of-the-party creature like Drunk Friend or Crying Friend to interrupt them. They would reluctantly tend to the faux crisis, each looking wistfully at the other. She’d never imagined that when they did finally score they’d be in their forties. And as hot as Seb remained, it had been only … grand?
She pulled in to a spot beside the entrance. This over-analysing had never been her style, but apparently when your life starts coming apart due to your own terrible decisions, self-reflection is a dreadful by-product. Who knew? Holly was gathering her bag and jacket, getting ready to brave the downpour, when Ailbhe hit the central locking to trap them inside.
‘Eh, sinister much?’ Holly laughed, surprised.
‘It’s just that …’ How to say this? Ailbhe didn’t want Holly mentioning Tom or Tilly to Seb. She didn’t want any calculations to be done. That could be disastrous.Just be casual, she counselled herself. Holly was looking impatient. ‘It’s just I think maybe it’s best not to mention my situation to Seb or the production team in general.’
‘Just checking, by “situation” do you mean your … new family?’
‘Yep.’Keep it breezy, Ailbhe. ‘Just to … ya know … keep things professional. You know how women are treated in the workplace after they give birth – everyone acts like it’s a buy-one-get-one-free on episiotomies and lobotomies.’
Holly laughed. ‘I won’t say anything, even though it is psychotic. You’re not doing a classic Ailbhe here now? Trying to “keep your options open”? Because you realise that your options couldn’t be further from open. The second that sweet maniac, Tom, fertilised you, the optionsslaaamedshut. Also, I happen to love that maniac – he’s a real grower and you guys are so good. He gets you, Ailbhe.’
Ailbhe chose to ignore this entirely and unlocked the car. ‘Cool, good talk! You can get out now,’ she said graciously. They hurried across the glistening tarmac and ducked in out of the rain. Ailbhe’s eyes immediately darted around the large glass-fronted reception area. There were giddy knots of people everywhere but no sign of Seb. A whack of nostalgia caught her off-guard. This was exactly how it had been walking into any party when she was younger. She’d arrive and immediately ‘suss the sesh’, as she and Holly had called it. It was her talent. Within moments of entering any shindig in Dublin in the early 2000s, Ailbhe would have a detailed breakdown of the exact demographic: percentage of ridey males to wouldn’t-even-in-the-event-of-a-nuclear-winter types; who was sadly gay and which males were available versus which had a territorial girl prowling the perimeter. And while she resolutely refused to voice this at the time, in sussing the sesh, Ailbhe was nearly always checking to see if Seb was there just like she was now, albeit for very different reasons.
Ailbhe hurried after Holly across the entrance hall, threading her way through singers warming up their vocal chords, many riffing on the Eurovision aspect of the show.
‘Nul points, nul points, nul points!’ one woman ascended sweetly beside her.
Another group to her left were singing ‘Rock ’n’ Roll Kids’ in pitch-perfect a cappella. Up ahead, she could see Holly stopped at the door to the auditorium with Gavin, one of Seb’s assistants. Thank God, no Seb. She fixed a smile on her face and joined them.
‘So just a reminder we need you to be mindful of current health and safety guidelines regarding all brushes and tools et cetera.’
‘Absolutely, we are all over it – in a very hygienic way, obvi.’ Holly smiled.
Ailbhe tensed, spotting Seb with Róisín in a sequinned T-shirt dress and high-top trainers coming towards them.
‘Holly, hey! We finally got you here.’ He beckoned her over. ‘This is Róisín, the musical director ofVoices of Glory.’
‘Hi.’ Holly smiled. ‘You must be so thrilled to be staging such a big production.’
‘Oh my God, yes.’ Róisín’s words raced out on the crest of a lilting Cork accent, and she clapped her hands in excitement. ‘Now that we’re on a firm timeline to opening night – middle of August is seven weeks away! – I have some materials for you and Ailbhe to look at. Obviously the show is set in the early nineties, so we’re thinking over-lined lips, a lot of blush and next-to-no eyebrows. But make it look good. If you can.’
‘It’s what we do!’ Holly laughed. ‘So what’s the plot of this thing?’
‘Well, we’ve been a bit fast and loose with the truth and are just dealing with Linda Martin’s legal team at the moment. Every musical needs a bit of conflict, see? Not a word of it is true but it’s got everything: overcoming personal struggles, foes who become friends, sabotage by a hostile enemy – a Tonya Harding-type scenario. And with the entire Eurovision back catalogue to pick from, the numbers are fantastic.’
‘Cool,’ Ailbhe said.Bonkers, she thought.
‘If all comes to all, we’ll rename the characters and change some of the details. It doesn’t affect the songs, thank God – we’ve got them locked in – and, of course, we have our ingénue Niamh Kavanagh on her rocky road to Eurovision stardom played by Roe O’Neill.’ She dropped her voice so none of the other performers could overhear. ‘This girl’s going to elevate the production massively.’
‘Ailbhe actually knows Roe!’ Seb cut in. He turned to Ailbhe. ‘She’s spectacular, Ailbh. A world-class talent. I’m genuinely stunned she’s never pursued this professionally.’
