‘Ha, brilliant. I love an arse flash.’ Ali nodded, scooping up her mash and gravy. ‘It’s such a whimsical brand of grossness. It’s sort of adorable, isn’t it?’
Sam laughed in agreement. ‘Though I saw my uncle do it once and it wasn’t great. Weird, almost stubbly arse.’
‘Shheeeesh, I suppose it is always the wrong person getting it out. So, do you have a plus one?’
‘Eh, yeah, I do ’cos of being in the bridal party.’ Sam was suddenly focused on his Yorkshire pudding.
‘Relax. It’s grand with me, of course. Who is she?’ Ali plastered a smile on her face, ready to play the cool girl if it killed her.
‘Oh no. I haven’t invited anyone yet. I just have the option.’
Ali messed with the last of the mash on her carb plate and debated throwing caution to the wind. She flashed on her new resolve to stop grovelling and just be herself. It was a gamble but fuck it. The man’s child was in her. She’d nothing to lose.
‘You should bring me!’ she announced brightly. ‘It’d be great fun. A nice chance for lil parasite here to get to know the sound of your voice ahead of him busting out all over you on a wave of gore. We could just go as friends, separate rooms and everything.’
Sam looked deeply uncertain and Ali figured it was best not to let him answer right away.
‘Sure, have a think,’ she quickly continued. ‘And if you want some company, I’d love to come. It’d be good to meet your friends and show them that I’m not a complete lunatic.’
‘Yeah …’ Sam was looking a little blindsided by her enthusiasm and undeniably dubious.
‘Look, no presh,’ Ali rushed on to change the subject, so that before he could reject it outright the idea could settle inside him and maybe he would start to think that he had come up with it in the first place.
‘Right.’ Ali mopped up the last of her gravy with a chunk of Yorkshire pudding. ‘Dessert? I feel like a doughnut might be in order.’ The buzz of her phone interrupted with a calendar notification.
W Y N D Summit announcement countdown post.
Ugh. Ali checked the time: 4 p.m. All the influencers were supposed to be posting the W Y N D tile at exactly 4.45 p.m. and adding a countdown function, which would expire at midnight when W Y N D would be unveiled on Holistic Hazel’s feed.
‘You’re still yoked to the phone, I see.’ Sam sat back and Ali sensed a chill permeate what had up until then been quite a good almost-date.
Ali ignored her immediate urge, which was deny, deny, deny.
‘Yep, kind of.’ She held his gaze. ‘I need money for carveries! And the small matter of your bastard child. But it is completely different now. No gaslighting. No pathological lying. And I’m not trying to make a career of it or anything. After the internet found out I was lying about the pregnancy it was totally shit, but there is something freeing about losing everything.’ She took a breath to steady herself. She didn’t want to get upset and make it seem like a manipulative sympathy-grab. ‘I’d lost my job, my dad and you. And I know it was my fault,’ she added quickly, ‘but, well, anyway I just thought “Fuck it”. I wanna make something positive out of all this mess. For me and for the baby. And whether it’s because I’m a crazy lying bitch who they hate or whatever, all these people follow me so I’m going to use it. But for something real, something important. I’ve been writing again and Terry from Durty Aul’ Town is helping me. I’m hoping to perform it in the Dublin Stage Fest.’
‘Oh.’ Sam looked uncertain. ‘Congratulations, I suppose?’
‘And I’m in this group therapy programme that’s really helping me to kind of get to the bottom of my problem with Instagram. So anyway, yeah, I’m not on there talking shit every day and I’m not pretending to design a range of prams or bollixing on about random supplements for an #ad but I’m still dabbling a bit. Just in a less obsessive, destructive way.’
‘Cool, cool.’ Sam was scanning the room to signal for the bill and Ali tried not to feel too defeated. She couldn’t have expected him to want to jump straight back on board her crazy train but this did seem like such a dud note to end on.
‘Sam? I’m not sure if you’ve thought about the birth at all. Liv has said that if I need her, she’ll be my partner, but I just wanted you to know that I would love you to be there. But it’s totally up to you. There’s a class I’m going to in a few weeks, so you don’t need to decide now. Just let me know,’ she finished quietly.
They parted ways with a clumsy hug outside the Merry Cobbler and Ali had to concentrate hard on not getting upset. His Sam smell and lovely Sam arms were still her kryptonite.
He seemed to hear her thoughts.
‘That Ali smell.’ He allowed his fingers to linger in her hair and she could feel the crackle of that impossible to explain, impossible to ignore chemical compatibility that she’d never had with anyone else.
For a wild moment she considered just blurting out ‘Wanna bone?’ but before she could ruin a perfectly lovely moment with her trademark subtlety, Sam stepped towards her and practically mashed his face into hers.
She just about had time to think: My God, we’re kissing when it was over in a muddle of lips and tongues, her hands on his rough jaw and his on her neck. He looked dazed, even more shocked than she felt despite him being the instigator.
He took a few steps back and then gave her a slightly baffling thumbs up, his cheeks burning adorably.
Ali, not knowing what else to do, gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up too.
‘Well, see you in the WhatsApp, I guess.’ Sam spun around and immediately lurched away. Even his back looked mortified.
Ali positively floated to the bus, posting the W Y N D Insta to her Story and feed, unable to believe the turn the day had taken. All afternoon at her desk she tried to write and eventually settled into scrolling through pics of her and Sam on her phone while listening to the soundtrack from The OC for good measure. She kept checking WhatsApp to see if he had sent anything but there were only tumbleweeds. Eventually, when she heard Liv’s key in the door, she abandoned all attempts at pretending to work and drifted down to the kitchen, where Liv appeared to be in similar buzzed form. She’d cranked The Distillers and was bopping around cheerily doing the dishes Ali had ignored earlier. Ali sidled up and grabbed the tea towel to dry and Liv caught a peek at her face.
‘Uh oh, what’s got you so happy? Have you hit the half a mil on Instagram?’
Ali shook her head, unable to stop smiling. ‘I could ask the same of you?’ she deflected.
‘Ah well, tonight’s the dinner with Amy.’ Liv ducked her head, also apparently unable to stop smiling.
‘Of course!’ Ali shouted. ‘Finally! Boom!’ She whipped Liv playfully with the tea towel and then started a little victory twerk.
‘Gahhh, please.’ Liv pretended to shield her eyes in horror. ‘No preg twerking, it’s so jarring,’ she pleaded.
‘Fine.’ Ali modified the dance into some lascivious gyrating.
‘That is worse,’ Liv wailed.
‘What? It’s medicinal, I’ve got to do my pelvic thrusts.’
Liv laughed. ‘Seriously, what is up? This is the most jazzed I’ve seen you since that parasite moved in. I take it the scan went well?’