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“Didn’t want to give you a chance to say no,” Róisín said.

Niall looked to his father, suddenly nervous.

“How was the dinner, Da?” he asked.

Owen was shaking his head slowly. “My god, Niall,” he said. “What a triumph.”

Róisín and Fiona beamed at each other behind Owen’s back. Niall’s cheeks flushed.

“You liked it then?”

“Liked it? It’s a proper place, isn’t it, with proper food. That risotto is a bit rich for my taste, but you’ve done the salmon well.”

“Shame about the trollop,” Róisín said.

“Eh, you get used to her,” Niall said.

Róisín shot him a piercing look. “Do you?”

“I just meant—”

“Give the boy a break, Róisín,” Owen said.

“We hope this is a good surprise,” Fiona said, worriedly. “We missed you so much and it’s been ages since we’ve spent the holiday together and Alison gets all kinds of deals on hotels and whatnot, you know, and she saw one for London so we thought why not?”

“This is a grand surprise, Mam,” Niall said. “I’m so glad.”

“You don’t look like you’ve been eating,” Fiona said.

“I’ve been eating fine,” Niall said, rolling his eyes. “You should come round my place tomorrow. I’m making boeuf bourguignon.”

“Oh, are you having friends over?” Fiona said brightly.

Niall cleared his throat. “Ah, no,” he admitted. “Just felt like making it is all.”

“We’d love to come,” Róisín said. “Seeing as you’re the reason we’re here in the fecking first place. London,” she grumbled. “Don’t see what all the fuss is about.”

Niall gave them his address and directions from the hotel and hugged them all again, promising to see them tomorrow. He was heading back to the kitchen when he spotted a familiar face at the bar.

Will Kincaid gave him a wave.

“Will,” Niall said, coming over to shake his hand. “Good to see you again! Happy Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas to you too,” Will said. “I’m off to the States tomorrow, but I had to come back for that lamb.”

“I’m glad you did,” Niall said. “Let me send you something. Have you tried the fried goat cheese?”

Will laughed. “I have not, but that sounds terrific. Oh hey, here’s my card.” He handed Niall a thick, cream-colored business card. “If you’re ever in the US or Tokyo or Lisbon, look up my spots. I’d love to hear what you think.”

“Grand,” Niall said, pocketing the card. “I’ll get the goat cheese and the lamb out for you straightaway. Gemma!” The bartender looked up. “Mr. Kincaid’s drinks are on me tonight.”

“You don’t have to—” Will began but Niall insisted. He was feeling lighter. Maybe it was seeing his parents and Róisín. A little touch of Inishmore.

After the restaurant closed, the staff gathered for some drinks at the bar. Niall loved the time when the lights dimmed, the chairs were up on the tables, and the liquor bottles gleamed temptingly in their neat rows. He was sipping his second Jameson, feeling that lovely hum the whiskey brought with it, a softening at the edge of his mind, a gentle heat in the center of his chest. Michel was spinning Gemma around on the floor. Two of the waitresses were making out by the kitchen.

His da liked the place. Niall hadn’t thought much about what Owen would say, assuming he’d never come to the Star. He’d made his father proud in his own way on his own terms.

He wished he could tell Cordelia.