Chapter 12
‘So, Ally, have you been losing weight? Don’t overdo it.
Don’t make the mistake of thinking the skinnier you are, the better.
Chaps like a few curves . . . oh, and a good set of teeth.
It’s evolution. Don’t tell your mother I said that.
’ Dad shoved a powerful gin and tonic into her hand.
As an attempt at daddy–daughter bonding, it might be a little dated.
Still, it felt lovely to have a rare moment alone with Dad during their monthly family Sunday dinner.
For a change, Maeve was helping Mum with the gravy, so Ally sat down in the chintz-bedecked drawing room.
‘Some people say this place is old-fashioned,’ boomed Dad. ‘Francis informs me they’re all into minimalism now, but you know, be a slave to fashion and you’ll always be wrong. Timeless, that’s my style.’
Dad thought nothing of dragging her ex into conversation with painful regularity.
Still, she’d noticed her father looking older on recent visits, and it left her with sadness and a vague reminder of passing time.
So she decided to make the most of her special moment with him.
‘Dad, have you been golfing much with Francis lately?’ she asked innocently.
His response was unusually subdued.
‘Not so much. Funny you should ask, he seems very busy at the moment . . . buying the new house, I imagine.’
It struck her that he seemed less confident, a tiny bit lost even – perhaps he was glad of his children’s company.
‘Mum says you’re changing jobs, love. No harm, a law firm would be nice. Funny, I always thought you’d be the one to do law.’
‘I don’t think I was clever enough, Dad. This is just a receptionist job.’
‘Nonsense,’ he broke in, ‘you’ve plenty of brains, you just don’t believe in yourself, that’s all.’
Well, that was a revelation – he was normally too busy to even acknowledge her, never mind offering a compliment.
Just then the doorbell went and a moment later Damo piled in with his girlfriend Julia, who was originally from Holland.
When he wasn’t being painfully bratty and full of himself, he was good fun, and Ally was happy to see him.
Julia was smart and steady – and quite unlike his previous girlfriends.
‘Hey, it’s the film star!’ he chortled.
‘Oh my God, what the hell happened to you?’ said Julia, fascinated.
Oh crap, they’d obviously seen the fight on TikTok.
Entranced to have the first scoop on the story, as Mum and Maeve crowded in to hear what the furore was all about, Damo plugged his phone into the TV and played through all five videos, including the one with Rosemarie and William being interrogated by the Guards, which now had at least one hundred thousand views.
‘Actually, Ally, you look really hot in that one,’ observed Julia, in her frank manner, which was at least some consolation.
‘So I’ve been told,’ she responded grimly.
‘The best one is you charging over to pick up the guy that gets decked!’ honked Damo.
‘Oh Lord, Maeve, I’m devastated,’ said Mum, totally overdramatic as usual. ‘If anyone from Hogget and Simpson sees this, it’ll be the end of this job. Then what are we going to do?’
Ally felt a surge of annoyance.
‘You don’t have to do anything. I’m quite capable of managing my own life, thank you very much.’
‘Well, you could’ve fooled me,’ sniffed Mum.
Why would nobody just leave her to ruin her life in peace?
* * *
They’d finished the main course, and Ally was clearing away the plates and preparing to cart in the chocolate pavlova, when Damo picked up a spoon and started dinging his glass.
‘Fam, hush up, Julia and I have an announcement . . .’
Mum practically erupted with joy.
‘I knew it, I just knew it, they’re getting engaged,’ she confided to the chandelier.
‘Julia’s expecting twins.’
Mum blinked a little, her enthusiasm barely undimmed.
‘So . . . you’ll be just . . . getting married. That’s fine . . . engagements are so old-fashioned.’
‘Oh God, no, Hilda,’ said Julia firmly. ‘By the time we got a wedding arranged, my stomach would be like the . . . what do you call it . . . the advance party arriving in the door of the registry office. I don’t want to look like an escaped elephant in a wedding dress.’
‘Registry office . . .’ echoed Mum faintly.
‘I know from experience,’ Julia went on. ‘Do one thing at a time and do it well.’
‘Exactly!’ said Damo, taking her hand with such a loving look that Ally couldn’t help but melt a little. At least there was someone in the world who was getting the love thing right, even if it wasn’t herself.
‘Congratulations!’ pronounced Dad, as he got to his feet. ‘A toast to the new family-members-to-be!’ His enthusiasm was wholehearted.
Fair play to Julia, she’d the balls to come straight out and live her life unapologetically.
Ally jumped up and ran around the table to hug both of them, even if a secret part of her wanted to lock herself in the loo and bawl.
Julia was only twenty-eight. Her eggs were still fresh and dewy.
No wonder she could afford to be nonchalant.
Mum gave her pinched little smile that indicated she was deadly serious under the faux humour.
‘I’m warning you two, I’m not letting you off without my day out.’
‘So, how about you, Ally?’ enthused Dad. ‘How’s your love life going?’
Oh God, between Maeve’s perfect four-bedroom marriage and Damo with his Gen Z partner . . . in the race to find Mr Right, she’d just been lapped.
‘Well, actually there is someone . . . at work.’
The minute it was out of her mouth, she knew it was a mistake.
Telling porkies was never a good way to fix a disappointing reality.
Everyone perked up – oh God, they really did want her to meet someone.
She hated feeling such a disappointment.
On the other hand, what she said could be true, potentially. Plus, she hadn’t specified which work.
‘Which one?’ chortled Damo, apparently reading her thoughts. ‘The one you just got kicked out of or the one you’re leaving to do Maeve’s one? Anyway, tell us about being chucked out of that cement place,’ he cheered in full Damo flight. ‘That sounds like classic Ally.’
Julia was digging him in the ribs, but he wasn’t picking up any of it.
‘Raccontaci tutto . . . tell us everything. Sounds hilarious.’
No point in hiding it, just spit it out at this stage. She enacted the whole email situation, moment by moment, as Damo rocked with laughter. In fairness, he had a terrific sense of humour, especially at other people’s disasters.
‘That moment when your brain knows what’s happening, but your hand keeps going . . . classic! Basic neurology, of course.’
‘I’m sure we’ve all done it,’ soothed Maeve.
Ally was pretty bloody sure they hadn’t.
‘Still, stingy bastard . . . Sei coraggiosa! You were brave, speaking truth to power. Respect, sis.’ He gesticulated wildly with his wine glass.
‘Mind that, Damo,’ shrieked Mum. ‘Nothing gets red out.’
‘Fucker deserved it. A fiver . . . What does he think this is, 1975? I bet everyone was secretly delighted,’ said Damo, eliciting a ‘humph’ of agreement from Dad.
At least the whole thing was out and floating above the dining-room table, where everyone was looking at it and giving it the family treatment.
Far from feeling shamed or exposed, she felt appreciated and, actually, supported.
Their jokes took the sting out of it. Mum grabbed her hand, giving her a reassuring smile.
‘So, who’s this guy, then, sis?’ said Damo. Suddenly, realisation dawned on his face. ‘It’s the dude you were picking up off the floor in the pub. I knew it,’ he hollered, clapping.
‘Oh, give over, Damo,’ huffed Ally.
‘I knew it,’ he repeated, as Julia rolled her eyes.
‘Don’t mind him, darling, you know he gets like that when he’s overexcited. More gravy, anyone? It’s the Gordon Ramsay one.’
There was an awkward silence.
‘You can fuck off, the pair of you. I’m not putting up with any more of your carry-on,’ a tiny voice came from the high chair, as Luna acted out a scene between a green bean and two florets of cauliflower.
* * *
Ally excused herself and went to the kitchen to make the coffee.
A moment later, she returned to find Maeve talking to the rest of the family.
‘I’ve just noticed something online . . .
It’s a bit concerning.’ Then she read off her phone: ‘A row has broken out on social media, following video footage showing a violent incident at a city centre pub, involving off-duty members of the force among others. It appears Gardaí were called to the scene, but no arrests were made. A member of the opposition has described the incident as “disgraceful” . . . “How the public can have confidence in the force with such carry-on, when a blind eye is given to misdemeanours by the defence forces.” The Garda authority has declined to comment.’
‘Oh hell, I thought it was all sorted and forgotten.’
Dad rolled his eyes. ‘Not nowadays. You can’t fart on Howth Head, but someone’s recorded it.’
‘Language, Raymondo,’ said Mum.
‘It’ll blow over,’ said Maeve. ‘It’s just some politician trying to gain a bit of traction.’
‘Maeve . . .’ said Mum anxiously. ‘You don’t think Hogget and Simpson would mind?’
Maeve shook her head. ‘I mean, technically no. It’s clear from the video footage that Ally is in no way responsible for the affray.’
‘And the main close-up is of her arse,’ Damo reminded them, while taking a slurp straight from the gravy boat that had been left on the table, to Mum’s mock horror.
‘What? I’m just appreciating your cooking, Mum.’ He grinned.
Maeve dismissed him. ‘However, they are a conservative firm, so perception is everything. Better to just say nothing and hopefully it’ll all be forgotten.’
Ally didn’t give a shite whether she got the job or not, but she did wish that just for once Maeve would whip off her lawyer hat and give her a bit of big-sisterly support.
* * *