Page 94 of The Matchmaker
“You don’t have time to change. And you don’t need to change. You look beautiful.”
“You’re grand, Katie,” Gemma pipes up. “You look lovely. Really.”
I guess. I’m wearing a black jumpsuit that I thought made me look very chic and sophisticated when I first put it on, but now I just feel overdressed and have the urge to pee all the time because I know I can’t do so easily.
“Just remember to smile,” Nush says. “And if you laugh, try not to do it so loud.”
“What?”
“Nush,” Gemma warns, as she powders my face.
“Do I have a loud laugh?”
“No.”
“Sometimes,” Nush says soothingly.
“Okay. We’re done now.” Gemma bats her away and pulls me into the lounge. “You’ll be fine,” she says. “Just think of it like a chat.”
Kind of hard to do with two cameras and a bunch of strangers all staring at you. Not to mention all the non-strangers here as well.
“Do all of you really need to be here?” I complain, as Callum comes up to me. Adam is frowning at everyone from behind the bar and Granny sits in the corner, sipping on a tonic. “Scatter. Hide. No one look at me. That includes you,” I add, as Callum lingers beside me. “What?”
“Nothing.” He trails a finger along the side of the jumpsuit. “This is nice.”
“If you’re trying to calm me down, you’re not helping,” I say, and he grins, kissing me on the cheek.
“Katie! We all set?” The presenter of the program is Mandy Brennan, an enthusiastic, middle-aged woman with very shiny, dyed red hair and a constant smile on her face. I am all set, but no one else is. And it’s another few minutes of adjusting lights and doing checks before we finally begin.
I feel better once we do. She starts with the usual questions, the ones I can almost predict before she asks, and I go through my spiel about the village and Glenmill, about what we were trying to do here and what we had planned for the guests visiting. It’s all going fine, and I’m just beginning to properly relax, when her gaze softens, her smile turning so sympathetic, it’s almost pitying.
“And tell me,” she says, in a hushed voice. “What’s this I hear about your parents meeting at the festival?”
“My parents?”
The room, which had been quiet before, goes deathly silent. I don’t dare look at any of my friends.
“It’s one of the reasons you feel so strongly about this pub, isn’t it? Why you want to keep the tradition going?”
“It is,” I say, clearing my throat. “They met at the festival when they were teenagers. It was still going back then, but not as big. Not like it’s going to be this year.”
“Yes, it all looks very impressive.” Her expression doesn’t change, and I know exactly the route she’s going down. I don’t know where she got her information, but I suppose it doesn’t matter. No one in the village would have told her, but a quick internet search is all she’ll need to bring up the funeral notices from that time. To put two and two together.
“They died when you were very young,” Mandy continues. “That must have been hard.”
“It was a long time ago.”
“And your grandmother raised you.”
“She did,” I say stiffly, my answers growing shorter by the second.
“This must be a lovely way to honor them.” She nods as she speaks, so I nod too, though, behind her, Adam is frowning like he’s two seconds away from barging in front of the camera and calling cut, so I muster up a smile as well.
She beams at me in response. “And will you be taking part in any matchmaking yourself?”
I don’t know why I say the next part. I really, truly don’t. Because the answer is a simple no, a cheerful,I’ll be far too busy for that!And then a friendly laugh. But I’m thrown by the questions about my parents, and I’m too hot in this stupid jumpsuit and everyone is looking at me, and the lights are too bright and I’m on autopilot when I open my mouth and state loudly and clearly.
“I will be, yes.”
