Page 15 of Our Song

But I don’t hit send until Jeanne comes in, looking cool and collected as ever.I show her the email.

‘But why Wednesday and Thursday?’she says.‘Do you have anything on today or tomorrow?Or Friday?’

‘No,’ I say.‘But I didn’t want to seem too keen.’

‘You’re overthinking this, Laura,’ she says.‘It is ridiculous.Just send the email.’

So I do.

An hour later, I’m alone in the house trying to distract myself by doing one of my favourite YouTube yoga videos.I’m breathing lots of love in and lots of love out when my phone rings.An unknown number.

This is it.

I answer the call.‘Hello?’

‘Hello, is that Laura McDermott?’says an unfamiliar voice.Female, Cork accent.

‘It is,’ I say cautiously.

‘This is Tara Kelleher,’ says the stranger.‘I’m ringing on behalf of Tadhg Hennessy.’

‘Oh,’ I say, as nonchalantly as I can.Which I suspect is not that nonchalant.My voice sounds slightly higher than usual.‘Yes.You got my email?’

‘Yes, thanks for getting back to me,’ she says.‘Tadhg would like to invite you to lunch on Wednesday for a chat, if that still suits you.’She names a restaurant.‘Do you know it?’

Yes, Tara, of course I know it.It made the national news last year when it got a second Michelin star and the tasting menu costs three hundred quid.I hope that when she says Tadhg’s inviting me to lunch it means he’s paying for it.

But of course I don’t say this.I say, ‘I know it,’ and hope this implies that I am a regular patron.

‘Brilliant,’ she says.‘So is one o’clock on Wednesday okay?’

It’s famously hard to get a table in this place, but I suppose things are different for the likes of Tadhg Hennessy.

‘Yes, it should be,’ I say.

‘Great,’ she says.‘Thanks so much for this.I know Tadhg is really looking forward to seeing you.’

She sounds totally sincere, but I find this information hard to believe, given how Tadhg and I left things the last time we saw each other.

‘No problem,’ I say.

After I say goodbye to Tara and hang up, I try to go back to my downward-facing dog but my nerves are beyond yoga now.Why didn’t I say I was free tomorrow?Or even today?Now I have to wait over forty-eight hours and it’s not like I have a job to go to.How will I keep myself occupied?There’s only so much yoga I can do.

But I get through those forty-eight hours.I email friendly acquaintances in other ad agencies, asking them if there’s any freelance work going.I meet Aoife for coffee and manage to be genuinely happy for her when she tells me she’s been offered maternity cover at a good agency.I go for walks and listen to podcasts.I ring Annie in London and she commiserates with me over our parents’ annoyingness.I have silly conversationsin various group chats, though I don’t tell anyone about Tadhg getting in touch, not even my group with Katie, Sarah and our friend Aisling (it’s just called The Birthday Party because we set it up to arrange Aisling’s birthday drinks in the early, unimaginative days of WhatsApp).I feel a bit guilty not telling Annie, Sarah and Aisling, but I’m afraid any more fuss might make me panic even more about the meeting.Aisling doesn’t even know about me and Tadhg – she didn’t meet the rest of us until we’d left college and she and Katie started teaching at the same school.

Then, to my amazement, I get offered a job.

When my phone rings, my initial reaction is to wonder if it’s Tara cancelling the meeting the next day.

But it’s not Tara.

‘Laura McDermott?’says an unfamiliar voice.‘This is Rachel O’Connor.I’m calling from the Leafe Agency.I heard you were one of Zenith’s victims.’

‘That’s right.’I feel a tingle of excitement.Everyone in advertising in Dublin knows who Rachel O’Connor is.

‘I’ve been looking at your previous work,’ says Rachel.‘Veryimpressive.’

‘Oh!’I say.‘Thanks very much.’

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