Page 53 of Our Song

‘You should let me pick a name,’ said Katie.‘I’ve got loads of band-name ideas.I’ve been thinking of imaginary band names since I was in school.’

‘No way,’ said Brian.‘I’m not trusting you to name our band.’

Katie looked at Joanna and Tadhg hopefully.‘Jo?Timothy?’

‘Hmm, I’m not sure,’ said Joanna.

‘Maybe if you hadn’t called me Timothy,’ said Tadhg.

‘Curses,’ said Katie, shaking her fist.

‘Anyway, there’s no hurry with finding a name,’ I said.

‘Actually,’ said Katie, ‘maybe there is.I have news.’

She paused for dramatic effect and Tadhg said, ‘Go on then,Cáit!’

‘All right,’ said Katie.‘You know Ruairí, right?Well, Tadhg and Laura do.I bumped into him on my way here.He’s organising a gig for his friend’s band, Sourpuss, the week before Christmas.And they’ve decided they need a second support act!So I said I’d ask you lot.’

We all looked at each other.

‘We’ve got a month,’ said Brian.‘We’ll be good enough to play a gig by then, right?’

‘Probably?’I said.

‘I think we can do it,’ said Joanna.

‘Of course we can,’ said Tadhg.‘Thanks, Katie.’He grinned at her.‘Maybe you should name the band after all.’

Katie rubbed her hands together in glee.

On a Wednesday evening in late November, I was crossing Front Square when I saw Tadhg with a group of his classmates.Including Jess.I’d met her a few times on nights out, and she was always lovely to me, but I couldn’t help being weirdly intimidated by her.She was so tall and blonde and cool.Tadhg waved at me, said something to his friends and made his way over to me as they set off in the direction of the Arts Block.

‘Hey!’he said.

‘Hey yourself,’ I said.‘Where are you off to?’

‘I’m actually going home,’ said Tadhg.‘I think I might need to eat some food that isn’t chips.’

‘Is that possible?’I said.

‘I’m pretty sure there’s something containing vegetables in my parents’ fridge.What about you?’

‘I was just about to go to the library to check if anyone was around to get dinner,’ I said.

‘Oh,’ said Tadhg.‘Um, will I do?If you fancy going somewhere that serves veg, of course.’

I smiled up at him.‘I know just the place.’

Ten minutes later we were sitting on some battered armchairs in the wood-panelled basement of Gruel on Dame Street, aplace where they served wine in tumblers and you could get a delicious dinner for a tenner.Over the last two months we’d had plenty of tête-à-tête lunches and cups of tea in college, talking and laughing and eating terrible Buttery food, but we’d never gone out alone in the evening before.We’d certainly never, like, gone out for dinner.It almost felt like … a date.

‘This is brilliant,’ said Tadhg, leaning back in his Naugahyde-covered armchair, a tumbler of red wine in one hand.‘I had no idea there was anywhere like this in Dublin.’

‘I know!’I said.‘I can’t afford to come here too often but I love it.And they do green things and everything.’

‘Amazing,’ said Tadhg.‘Maybe I won’t die of scurvy after all.’

‘You were never going to die of scurvy, Tadhg,’ I said.‘There’s vitamin C in chips.’

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