Which one was that? Four Weddings? Love, Mark xx

Hi Mark. OK. Given it’s YOU.

Xx

PS Notting Hill, I believe

Mark is clearly at his desk and in need of distraction because before my toast has popped he replies:

Ahhhh the one with the actress?

M

… They all have actresses in?

G

No I meant ABOUT an actress. Oh and I meant to ask, how are you finding it at The Wicker? Mainly dealt with Devlin, seemed a very decent sort of chap. Got to know a fella here when he needed someone in the city to do the accounts.

He’s great and the pub is great! Thanks again x

It did make me laugh when he and his brother came in, I think we were expecting some magnates in pinstripes and the look was very off-duty rock star. But that’s the difference when you’ve made your money in the pubs and clubs trade I guess. Most of our clients are a lot greyer. Ooops, shouldn’t be typing this on company email. Deleted in 3, 2, 1 …

Magnates? They just own a couple of pubs in Dublin, don’t they?

I chew my slice of granary with Marmite contemplatively and hope Mark enlightens me, and doesn’t mean by deleting he’ll be deleting any replies.

Oh my dear sweet unmaterialistic sister-in-law! They ‘just’ own three places in central Dublin, outright, not leased – do you know how much property is worth there? – and a place a few miles outside, in an area called Dun Laoghaire. Which to give you an idea, is the kind of postcode where Bono has a pad. Portfolio of millions. Took over the family business from the dad I think, a little dynasty. Right, annual review meeting beckons – SUCH JOY. Thanks for being a mensch as always. Mx

I close the laptop and turn this over, adjusting my view of the McCarthys. I knew they were men of decent means, but seriously rich? That had flown over my head. As he said, they don’t dress like it.

It’s a bit ungenerous of me, but I wonder if their unusual easy-going fairness is borne of always setting the pace themselves, not being in any stress over cash flow or under the cosh from someone further up the chain of command. That could as easily make you a tinpot Hitler, if you were that way inclined, I remonstrate with myself.

Through my morning shower, getting dressed and made up, I can’t stop thinking about this latest twist. Had the cool cabal at sixth form known this, I have a feeling Lucas would’ve been reassessed and promoted. It’s to his credit that he never dropped a word of this, not even to me.

To think I was supposedly the greater catch at school. Ha. Supposed by who, though.

With a deep breath, wishing I still smoked, I call Mum on my way into work. Like Esther, I think a conversation with a neutrally imposed time limit is a good thing. Unlike with Esther, I quickly glean it’s not going to be very amicable.

‘At last! I wondered if we were ever to speak again,’ Mum says.

‘Oh, as if,’ I say, immediately returned to being fourteen years old by the parental dynamic. A worn groove.

‘You could’ve handled this with a little more grace, Georgina, than to simply start stonewalling me.’

‘I was busy and I didn’t want to get into an argument.’

‘There will be no need for that if you simply apologise to Geoffrey. He’s being very level headed about it, now he’s simmered down. We’re very fortunate to have him.’

I stop dead in the middle of Northfield Road, mouth agape.

‘What? He should be saying sorry to me!’

‘What on earth for?’

‘Uhm … let’s see, saying my life was a mess, calling me selfish, implying I’m a bit of a slapper, laughing at my job. Calling my life a disaster. Saying Dad was an arsehole.’

Mum’s quiet for a few seconds and I know full well that Geoffrey has not provided these details.

‘Funnily enough, he said you were the one who was aggressive. You threw his very generous offer of a job back in his face, made jokes about how you’d rather go into prostitution instead and got very rude and sarcastic at the notion you’d even consider working for a central heating firm. I’m not sure where you get the superiority from, young lady, as from where I’m standing you have nothing to lose from accepting.’

How do I say: your husband is a malicious liar?

Mum isn’t only sticking up for him as he’s her pay cheque and Lord Protector, I sense. The overselling of Geoffrey’s tale clearly shows that she’s decided she desperately wants me to take a nice safe position in an office, overseen by him, beholden to him. She wants me to be like her. How long before some twitchy chinless son of an MD would be pointed in my direction, too. (‘He’s flying up the corporate ladder and a very smartly turned out young man. At your age, you could do a lot worse.’)

‘I already have a job I like a lot and after the way I was treated by Geoffrey I wouldn’t want to owe him anything, thanks.’

A pause where I gather Mum is tutting.

‘It’s a mystery to myself and Geoff why you are so unwilling to let us help you.’

‘If you want to help me then I wouldn’t mind a bit of faith and emotional support, thanks.’

‘Georgina, you’re still working in bars at thirty. You have no savings, no pension, no home. No relationship. What am I supposed to emotionally support, exactly?’

‘Me, as a person? Aren’t I enough?’ I say, pretending to be coolly in control and not on the verge of tears. ‘I’m happy.’

‘Are you?’

‘Yes,’ I say, in a clipped voice.

‘And you should give some thought to giving Robin a second chance.’

‘You … what? Robin? Why? You couldn’t stand him.’

‘We ran into him in Waitrose, last week, week before last. We both reached for the same jar of peanut butter, hahaha! Didn’t he tell you?’

This causes my stomach to plummet. What the … my hands are immediately sweating on my phone and I grip it so tightly I think it might shatter. I can’t let her know what a nasty shock this is.

‘No, he didn’t.’

‘Oh, I thought he would have done. He explained how things had been quite casual between you and he’d upset you by saying so, you’d split up and now he really wants to commit. I think he means it, Georgina. Sometimes it takes the right woman to make a man grow up and settle down.’

The thought of this spectacle by the Condiments and Spreads aisle turns my stomach.

‘Why did he feel the need to tell you this?’

‘He felt we’d misunderstood his intentions towards you. He might not want you to know this but he’s really rather gooey about you. I didn’t realise what a solid family he’s from himself.’

‘How long were you talking for?’

‘Only five minutes. He seemed very pleased to see us.’

I bet.

‘Solid family’, HAH. He’s hinted he’s from a minted background and now Mum’s opinion of him has shot up. With Geoffrey, Robin’s appealed to his ego, shown due deference to their status as elders of this village. Now Robin has bent and scraped and begged for their approval, shared sensitive intel to sweeten the deal, they’re prepared to back his cause. The whole thing makes me want a scalding shower.

‘Mum,’ I say, forcing myself to concentrate, ‘Did you tell Robin where I was working at the moment? At The Wicker?’

‘Oh … I think it came up? Yes, yes it did, as we were discussing Geoff’s idea of making his offer to you. And you might be interested to hear that Robin think it’s fantastic too.’

Mum says this with a ‘ta-dah!’ rabbit out of the hat flourish. How could she not see they were being played? Whose personality turns 180 degrees like that? I could be sick. I make hasty excuses about being at work, when there’s five minutes left to the route, to churn on everything she’s said.

Oh, Lucas. You’re wise. Robin is malign. And, unless I make him, I don’t think he’s going to stop.

I’m in dire need of comic relief and The Wicker considerately supplies.

‘Steady as she blows!’ Devlin says as I dump my stuff behind the bar, as two men, knees bent, huffing and wheezing, drop a multicoloured Wurlitzer jukebox by the fireplace.

‘Where’s that on its way to?’ Lucas says, staring.

Dev slaps its flank and beams like a new father. ‘Isn’t she special?’

‘It is not gendered and no, it’s fucking hideous. What’s it for?’

Kitty and I exchange a ‘here we go’ delighted glance. McCarthy brother bickering is a constant.

‘Music!’

‘What next, a Sky Sports big screen?’ Lucas said. ‘Ugh. It means an endless soundtrack of Metallica and Girls Aloud.’

‘You say that like it’s a bad thing.’

‘Absolutely no way, Dev. Call them back to take it away. God almighty we’ve got “traditional” and “craft ale” everywhere. Why not run a place with a plastic leprechaun outside and have done? Serve cocktails the colour of Care Bears?’

‘Do you ever think hospitality was the wrong fit for you?’

‘It’s called taste, Dev, get some.’ Lucas seems rattier than usual.

He exits with Keith in tow and Devlin huffs and Kitty and I laugh.

‘You wouldn’t think someone as lush as Lucas would be single, would you?’ Kitty says, once Dev’s upstairs clattering about in the event room and it’s the two of us.