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I knew that she was remembering the night of our first
meeting.
    I didn’t tell her that all that Guinness had ended up on the grasses of suburbia. I was in Dublin six now, much closer to the centre of things and much more in the midst of the action, the
thick of life. It would have to be my secret. And after the party, we could all pretend that dope didn’t suit me. Nobody would mind. All the more for those who wanted it. No force, no
flatter, what the hell matter, as my mother used to say when we were children.
    And anyhow, despite it all, I was content. My friends, my flat, my freedom and never mind the small embarrassments. And Paul was hovering. He had a nice face. No. The word ‘nice’ was
banned. Georgie did not allow it. It was a nothing word, she used to argue, a sit-on-the-fence word, a lazy, useless kind of adjective. In the same way, she didn’t allow ‘I don’t
mind’. ‘Decide!’ she’d say. ‘Stop hedging and say what you want!’ I decided that Paul’s face was both strong and angular with something familiar about it.
I didn’t know him. I was sure I had never laid eyes on him before – but wasn’t that the whole point of a party, so that you could get to know the people you hadn’t known
before? My stomach settled, my vision cleared and finally, my head stopped racing in front of me. I turned to Paul and smiled.
    ‘Thanks for the tea,’ I said.
    I watched as his whole face brightened. Even I could see that he wasn’t able to take his eyes off me. I felt Maggie and Georgie begin to draw away, could sense that they had already
returned to their party. My new-found sense of my own self was urgent and important. I could already feel the pull towards this – what – boy, man? This young man who knew nothing about
me, about my past and all my family baggage. This tall and handsome man who took me as he found me. A little the worse for wear, perhaps, but still sexy and fashionable, at her ease around people
like Georgie and Maggie. In short, someone who didn’t really exist – or hadn’t, up until then. Until right then, right at that moment.
    ‘Look after her, Paul, you hear? Or you’ll have us to deal with.’ Georgie’s drawl was clear again, crystal, just as she had been with the Eng. Lit. guy on the first day
we’d met. The one she’d warned about wasps and autumn weather and getting stung.
    ‘No problem,’ I heard Paul say as he smiled down at me. ‘More tea, Claire, or are you ready for a beer?’
    I hesitated. ‘I think I’ll stick to tea, for now,’ I said, ‘if that’s okay’
    ‘Why wouldn’t it be okay?’ His manner was easy, friendly. He took my cup and plugged in the kettle, and at the same time reached for one of the cold beers from the sink for
himself. I liked the way he moved. I liked his long hands with their tapering fingers, his dark curly hair.
    ‘My name’s Paul, as you’ve probably gathered,’ he said, the ring-pull on the can of Carlsberg suddenly hissing. ‘I’m Maggie’s brother.’
    ‘Pleased to meet you,’ I said. Now I knew why I’d found something familiar in his expression. It felt as though I knew him already, that Maggie linked us in a way that made
each of us already intimate with the other. He grinned at my ridiculous formality. ‘Sorry’ I slapped my palm against my forehead and shook my head in disbelief. ‘But I am pleased
to meet you. You look like Maggie.’ I hoped that that was the right thing to say.
    Because I couldn’t say any of the things that I was thinking. I was imagining myself lying beside Paul, his body strong and warm and close to mine. I was already falling for the
long-limbed, practised air he had about him. Here was somebody alive, confident, manly. This was as far removed from Jamesie and his blunt, awkward fingers as it was possible to get.
‘I’ll be moving in with Maggie and Georgie in a week or so,’ I added lamely.
    He nodded. ‘I know. In fact, I know all about you.’ He jerked