Charlie ordered wine for the table along with some iced water. As soon as the latter arrived he poured some out, handing mine to me with a brief glance as Ms Brunette caught his attention with some clever piece of conversation. The restaurant had gone with a trendy retro theme and the two women chose fruit juices as starters, with salads to follow. Big surprise, I thought, having noted their teeny bums and superbly toned arms when they’d slipped off their jackets outside to reveal sleeveless blouses. My arms were OK but I wasn’t exactly a slave to the gym. Perhaps I should have a fruit juice and salad.
‘Prawn cocktail and the sea bass, please.’ Oh well.
When the starters came, it was clear that although the theme was retro there was definitely a modern twist on it all. The cocktail had the biggest prawn I’d ever seen in my life hooked over the glass edge. I stared at mine as it looked back at me, accusation in its beady little black eyes.
Charlie was busy dismantling his own prawn when I saw him glance over at my plate, and then at my face. I hadn’t moved.
‘Libs?’
‘Hmm?’
‘Everything all right?’
I chewed my lip. ‘It’s looking at me,’ I whispered.
The others were talking amongst themselves but I hadn’t missed Ms Brunette’s smirk when my order was placed in front of me. I never was very good at hiding my emotions. Mum said it was the Irish blood and that it was healthy. Right now, I wasn’t sure I agreed that it was such a helpful trait.
I saw him try to cover a smile. ‘I’m pretty sure it’s not.’
I flicked a glance to him.
‘I thought you liked seafood.’
‘I do. I just don’t like my food looking back at me.’
He did the smile again and reached across, made some crunching noises and plopped the now naked prawn on top of my cocktail. He took the shell away and put it on the far side of his own plate.
‘’Scuse fingers,’ he said, and then set back to eating his own starter.
I was aware that the others at the table hadn’t missed any of the procedure. The women had exchanged a look that even I, with my innate want to see the best in people, had interpreted as pity. I pushed the thought away and stabbed the offending prawn with my fork, delivering it to my mouth with a controlled calmness I didn’t feel.
‘So, Libby. What do you think of Charlie moving to New York? Isn’t it exciting?’
35
I snapped my head up at the question and the huge prawn slid down my throat before I got a chance to give it even one chew. My eyes bulged and I felt my throat close as I tried to draw breath – something my body had apparently decided it didn’t really feel like doing right now. Grabbing for the water glass to wash it down, I took a swig but it didn’t budge. I was starting to panic now and the others on the table were looking around awkwardly as I felt myself growing redder and redder from alarm and shock. There was probably embarrassment mixed in there somewhere too, but right now I was focused more on trying not to die of choking. I could always worry about dying of embarrassment later, if I got that far.
‘Excuse us.’ Charlie’s arms wrapped around me and moments later we were out of the door and around the corner, away from the prying eyes of our fellow diners. A group of teenagers were hanging around, laughing too loudly and shoving each other, as tourists scuttled past, too busy capturing the scenery with their phones to actually look at it with their eyes. I was still making ghastly noises as I tried to breathe and my eyes were streaming. I wasn’t sure if I was crying or if it was just from trying not to die. Either way, I was pretty sure my make-up was taking a hammering. Bizarrely, I suddenly had the thought that I hoped Charlie had the sense to wipe off the mascara stains before they zipped me up into a bag. But he was a bloke. A blokey bloke. Of course it wouldn’t occur to him! I flapped my arms some more. Oh God, I was going to dieandlook a mess!
Charlie gave me a heft on the back that did nothing but send me flying forwards. Luckily, he had his other arm around my waist so I didn’t face-plant straight onto the pavement. He moved behind me, wrapped both arms around my middle and pulled in and up. The prawn released itself, exited through my open mouth and sailed gracefully through the air, before landing safely in the hoody of one of the teenagers.
Charlie and I both stared for a moment. I knew that really I should go over and tell him, and apologise. But right now I was busy gulping air into my lungs and trying to return to a colour vaguely reminiscent of the one I normally was. Plus, the kid in question was wearing his trousers so low that he had to walk like an arthritic pirate just to keep them up. I had no desire to see random men’s underwear and didn’t appreciate it being shown without my asking. So I kept quiet about the prawn. Call it karma.
‘Jesus, Libby. You had me worried there.’
I nodded. That made two of us. But my mind was already floating back to what had caused me to swallow the damn thing whole in the first place.
What do you think of Charlie moving to New York?
‘You should go back to your colleagues.’
‘It’s all right. I can wait with you for a bit.’
The truth was, I didn’t want to go back in there. I’d happily leave right this minute, but my bag was back in the restaurant and it had my train ticket, money, phone – everything – in it.
I ran my hands over my face and pushed my hair back, lifting it up at the nape where it was sticking.
For once, I wished I could keep my feelings to myself, and not have them spill out. This was another trait I’d inherited from my mother’s side, and another she’d told us was healthy. But right now I was desperately trying to channel the English, traditionally repressed side of the bloodline. I failed.
