Ella's father was very engaged by the menu. Would smoked trout salad be too heavy a starter if he was going to have Guinness, steak and oyster pie?
Ella wondered if she might possibly be going to faint. Was this a sign that since she had refused to go out with him Don had decided to play the rare role of family man? Was this self-delusion of the worst kind? Did he think less of her for being with her parents? Or quite possibly more? Would he acknowledge her in the dining room? Ella ordered absently and chose the wine. It was too late now to ask if they could eat upstairs in the bedroom. She had to face it.
In the dining room they were quite a distance from the Richardson party and it was the two teenage boys and their grandfather who faced them, the couple with the dead marriage had their backs to the Bradys.
Ella's parents were still playing the "let's imagine" game about people. The two women over there were planning a shoplifting spree, her mother thought, or they were discussing putting their father into an old people's home. Ella's father thought they had hacked into a computer and made a fortune and were wondering how to spend it.
"What do you think, Ella?"
She had been thinking about the body language of Don and Margery Richardson as they sat together easily. They were not stroking each other or hand-holding but they didn't have that stiffness that couples often have when there is a distance. Like her own parents had. Every night except tonight when they seemed to be very relaxed.
"Go on, Ella, what do you think they are?"
She glanced briefly at the two retired women who obviously treated themselves out to a meal and a gossip twice a year.
"Lesbians planning which of them should be inseminated this time," she said, forgetting she was talking to her parents rather than to Deirdre. To her surprise they thought it was very funny and when Don turned around slightly to look for her as she had H known he would, there they were all laughing again. Ella felt a H touch of hysteria. She wanted to stand up and scream to the whole restaurant that at best life was just one ludicrous, hypocritical facade. But you'd need to be a brave person to lose control at Miss Holly's. Ella thought that he would say hallo, stop by the table and say something smooth and pleasant. Just be prepared for it and behave accordingly. Nothing glib or too smart.
Her father removed his glasses and seemed pleased to be able to identify at least one of the fellow diners. "My goodness, that's Ricky Rice, of Rice and Richardson Consultants," he said.
"Oh, do you know them, Dad?" she asked, her mouth hardly able to form the words.
"No, no, not at all, but we all know of them. Dear Lord, do they have clients," he said, shaking his head with envy.
"How did they get such great business, do you think?" Her mother was peering over at the table.
"Know all the right people apparently," her father shrugged, his face defeated and sad.
Ella was determined to raise the mood. She asked them about property prices in Tara Road. One house there had sold for a fortune recently.
"Didn't you do well to buy a house there, Dad?" she said.
"We wanted a place with a nice garden for you to grow up," her mother said. "And wasn't it marvellous? Still is, of course."
"But you don't live there any more," her father said.
"No, Dad, not full-time, but I'll come back and see you as I will always do while you're there, or wherever you are."
"What do you mean, wherever we are?" Her mother sounded very anxious.
Please, please, may he not look around again now and see them all frowning and anxious. "I meant, Mam, that some day you'll want to sell Tara Road and buy a smaller place, won't you? Won't you?" She looked from one to the other eagerly.
"We hadn't ever thought . . ." her father began.
"Why should we leave our home?" her mother said.
"You know that guy Danny Lynch who used to live in Tara Road? He says this is the time to sell."
"Well, he left his wife and children - he's no role model," her mother said.
"No, but he is an estate agent."
"Not any longer." Her father spoke gravely. "Apparently he and his partner got into a lot of funny business," he said very disapprovingly.
"And anyone who would cheat on his wife like he did isn't worth listening to on any subject," Ella's mother said.
There was a movement two tables away. Ella saw him stand up. She knew he was coming over. Make them laugh, she told herself.
It was a tall order. She had about thirty seconds.
"Don't mind me, Deirdre says that I'm obsessed by property. That's another game I play, I pretend houses aren't what they seem to be. Apart from Holly's Hotel here being the wife swapping centre of Europe, I think Mam's law office is money laundering big time. And wait till I tell you what I think Dad's firm is up to .. ." She stopped just as he arrived at the table. It had worked, they were both looking at her with eager smiles to know what she would say next.
"Hallo, I'm Don Richardson. We met at Frank and Nuala's party this week."
"Oh, that's right. Don, these are my parents, Tim and Barbara Brady."
His handshake was so firm, his tone so warm, she felt nothing but gratitude to him. He was being so genuinely pleasant to two strangers. He was not speaking to this couple as a man who was about to seduce their daughter, betray his wife; she saw him as someone who had come to rescue the conversation. She explained it was her father's birthday; he explained that it was a celebration because his son had scored a winning goal in a match. In the few short moments that he stayed he managed to discover the name of, and praise, her father's firm, he even knew of the office where her mother worked when it was mentioned and said they were highly respected lawyers. And then he was gone.
They spoke of him admiringly.
"Very hard-working man. That's why he got where he is. People used to say it was all his father-in-law but the firm was nothing until he got into it," her father said.
"And very easy with people too," her mother said.
Ella felt it was very foolish to be as pleased as she was that they liked him. And she felt very pleased indeed at the way he smiled at her as he left the dining-room. She knew he was going to call her again soon. But she hadn't known that he would call her at midnight.
"I hope I didn't wake you," he said on her mobile phone.
"No. I was reading, there's a kind of window seat here, I was actually looking at the shapes of the bushes and flowers more than reading."
"Bushes? Flowers? Where are you?" He sounded confused.
"How quickly men forget. I'm in Holly's, we met here about four hours ago."
In Holly's?" He sounded very disappointed.
"Don, you know I am. Is this a game?"
If so, I've lost," he said.
"Where are you? she asked.
"I'm parked in your road. I was hoping you'd ask me in for coffee."
"So your son's celebration is over?"
"And your father's continues?"
"That's life, I suppose." She was smiling now, he was outside her door back in Dublin. He had not gone back to his Killiney home with the wife in red silk. His ties to his home must be very loose, as he had said. He had driven all the way in to Dublin on the off chance of seeing her. He must fancy her.
"You could come in for coffee another night. Like tomorrow," she said.
"Tomorrow's bad for me - a big political fund-raiser - I have to be there glad-handing people." He sounded regretful.
"Oh, well." She made herself shrug.
"Monday night?" he offered.