When the smoke dispersed, nothing at all remained on the plates. Adam looked dismayed, then glommed onto me because he knew that Quin and Claire would mock him.
‘Sorry to be a Basic,’ he said. ‘But there will be actual food at some stage tonight?’
That made me laugh. I was very fond of Adam. He was a bit Mr Expense Account and faaaar from his comfort zone here, but he was so game, always.
‘You will definitely get fed.’ I’d done my research. ‘Although I’m not sure there’s any pork belly here.’
‘Is it tragic to like pork belly?’
‘Pathetic,’ Claire said at the same time as I said, ‘No.’
The arrival of the wine list changed everything – suddenly the three of them had their heads together, the mood serious. I tuned out as the discussion raged about what wine would go best with Death by Parsley or Three-D Printed Quail.
‘For you,’ the drinks waiter said to me, ‘we can do alcohol-free tinctures and infusions, specially created to complement each course. Start you off with a charcoal lemonade?’
‘Sure!’ I mean, why not? BanDearg was totally one of those places – mildly ridiculous but lots of fun. Granted I’d need four slices of toast when I got home but so what.
‘Did you hear about today?’ Quin asked Claire and Adam, then launched into the story about Kallie.
Gripped and wide-eyed, they listened hard.
‘What do you think?’ Quin finished. ‘She just checking Rachel out?’
‘Sounds like it,’ Adam said. ‘How many times did she mention the burst condom?’
‘Once,’ I said.
‘Felt like lots more,’ Quin said. ‘Swear to God, I thought she was going to get it out of her bag and show us.’
‘Quin!’ I gave him a playful shove. ‘You just decided you didn’t like her. But she’s lovely.’
‘Seriously?’ Claire asked.
‘She’s warm. Really warm. And lots of fun. You can tell.’
‘And is she …？’ Claire looked at Quin. ‘Hot?’
‘Oh God, yeah. Not as hot as you, Claire, but yeah, hot.’
The pair of them smirked at each other. It was good that my boyfriend got on with my sister. But sometimes they annoyed me …
‘Why is she still in Ireland?’ Claire asked. ‘Doesn’t she have a job to go back to?’
‘Her partner’s mum has just died. She’s being supportive.’ But I’d wondered that too.
‘Tell me her name.’ Claire was already on Instagram, where earlier I’d done a deep dive. ‘Oh my God, it’s all a bit “Me and My Hot Man”！’
In fairness to Kallie, she had never actually posted the words ‘Me and My Hot Man’。 But in any photo with Luke, it was implied.
For example, a sidelong shot of Luke, busy at a cooker, frying pan in hand, a tea towel hanging from his jeans pocket, was captioned “Nothing tastes as good as … what I get from this guy”。 Followed by salivating emojis, winking emojis, then several hearts of different colours.
Kallie was fond of emojis.
But so was I.
Apparently, it was our age.
‘She goes … horse-riding?’ Claire was scanning Kallie’s grid, the many shots of her, slender and gorgeous in jeans, a plaid shirt and a cowboy hat, flanked by a horse, standing around in glaring sunlight, their shadows short on the sunbaked ground. ‘Yeah, I guess it’s on brand.’
Then, Claire exclaimed, ‘Oh, HAI!’ She’d found the horsey shots that featured Luke. Contrasting with Kallie, Luke was often caught unawares or was deliberately avoiding the camera. There was one really beautiful photo where the brim of his hat cast a shadow over most of his face, except for his smile.
‘You didn’t say Kallie’s a singer!’ Claire was doing more clicking.
This fact I found quite humiliating. A singer-songwriter who did actual gigs to paying customers was a more high-status identity than an addiction counsellor. Luke had definitely traded up.
‘Folksy pop. Acoustic guitar.’ Quin was dismissive. ‘She either does covers of Doobie Brothers’ ballads or her own stuff, which is all a bit “2012 Taylor Swift called, she wants her identity back”。’
Earlier, I’d immersed myself in Kallie’s YouTube, trying to garner clues about her relationship with Luke. But as her songs veered from angsty ballads to tender love songs, it was hard to get a fix on things. Her voice, though, was light and attractively mournful.