Lifesaving for Beginners

met saying, ‘Go on, go on, give it a go, sure.’
    I said, ‘Big. Hairy. Gold band on the little finger of the left hand. Long scar running down the palm of the right hand.’ I lowered my hand.
    He examined his hands. Then looked at me, shaking his head. ‘That’s un-bel-eeev-able,’ he said and I almost felt a sense of achievement, the way he said it.
    ‘It’s not. It’s easy. Especially with your paws. No offence.’
    He smiled. ‘None taken. Hands like shovels. That’s what the mammy says.’
    He took out the wine bottle, refilled my cup. He said, ‘I mean, Kobain once described a man as having smokers’ nails.’
    I remembered the character. Luka Brown. Second victim of Malcolm Beeston, a serial killer with a fondness for strangulation by washing line. If Malcolm hadn’t killed Luka, the fags would have got him. Sooner rather than later, I’d say. He was a two-pack-a-day man.
    ‘So . . . do you . . . ah . . . like the Declan Darker books?’ I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I never did this.
    He nodded and said, ‘Keep you guessing till the end. That’s what I like about them.’
    When we were eventually allowed to disembark, there was a mad scramble for the exits. Cunningham-Thomas-Cunningham stayed in his seat. I stood up. I said, ‘We can get out now.’
    He said, ‘I always wait till the crowd disperses.’
    When Thomas smiled, his eyes lightened and I noticed the ring of green round the grey, except the grey wasn’t all that grey anymore. It was more like a pale blue. Like the sea when the cloud breaks and the sun filters through.
    He said, ‘It was nice meeting you, Kat.’
    ‘You too.’ The weird thing was, I meant it. That was strange.
    I moved into the queue of people standing in the aisle of the plane. Thomas said, ‘Goodbye now,’ before he settled himself in his seat, opened his book – my book – and began to read. As the queue of people inched forward, I wondered, for the first time, why I do this. Why do I stand up as soon as the plane doors open and join the queue instead of waiting till everyone gets off before collecting my belongings and ambling off the plane? I’ve never ambled. Not once.
    I looked back. Thomas was still there, still sitting down, still reading his book – my book.
    I inched my way to the front of the plane. Eventually, I disembarked.
    Thomas rang the next day.
    He said, ‘It’s me.’
    I said, ‘Who?’ even though I knew immediately. Definitely Monaghan, I decided.
    He said, ‘Cunningham. Thomas Cunningham. We met on the plane yesterday, remember? I was reading Dirty Little Secret . You were pretending to say the rosary.’
    ‘I was not pretending.’ The cheek.
    ‘Anyway, I just wondered if you’ll be hungry on Friday, around eight?’
    ‘How did you get this number?’
    ‘I’m a journalist.’
    ‘So?’
    ‘I can’t reveal my source.’
    ‘I demand to know how you got my number.’
    ‘The telephone directory.’
    ‘But . . . I didn’t know I was in the telephone directory.’
    ‘You have to ask to be left out of it. Otherwise, Eircom just put you in automatically.’
    ‘Oh.’
    ‘So? What do you think? Might you be hungry then?’
    ‘I don’t know.’
    A pause. Thomas didn’t fill it.
    I said, ‘Why?’
    ‘Because if you were hungry, I could take you out for the bit of dinner.’
    ‘Dinner?’ I say, like I’ve never heard of it before.
    ‘Or if you weren’t hungry, we could skip dinner and go straight to the show.’
    ‘What show?’
    ‘The magic show. In the Button Factory. It’s very good, so it is. I saw it last year. There’re no white rabbits and no black hats. It’s good.’
    I’d never been to a magic show. ‘Why?’ I asked.
    He said, ‘Nothing like a bit of magic on a Friday night.’ I was supposed to meet Minnie that Friday night. To celebrate the completion of the latest Declan Darker novel. A cocktail at the Shelbourne and dinner at One Pico.
    I opened my mouth to say what needed to be said. Instead, I said, ‘OK.’
    ‘OK to dinner or OK to the magic show or OK to both?’
    ‘Eh, both.’ I couldn’t get over myself.
    ‘Grand, so. I’ll pick you up at half seven, OK?’
    ‘OK.’
    ‘Great. See you then.’
    ‘OK.’
    Minnie said, ‘I’m getting dumped for a muck savage from Monaghan?’ when I told her.
    I said, ‘Yes.’ I was as shocked as she was.
     
    Now, I look around the kitchen and say, ‘What are you doing?’
    Thomas says, ‘I’m making lemon and ginger