‘Right, I’m getting something at that sandwich bar,’ he says. ‘Coming?’
I don’t want to follow him around the canteen like a puppy but I really do want a sandwich so I say, ‘Sure.’
Once we’ve got our food I realise someone is waving at us from a table by the window. It’s Simon and the woman who made some good suggestions about my episode yesterday. What was her name? Nora, that was it.
‘Well,’ says Art, ‘it looks like some people don’t hate us after all.’
We take our trays over to the table.
‘Hello!’ says Simon. His manner is friendly and a bit shy. ‘Do you want to join us?’
‘That’d be great,’ says Art. He smiles at Simon. He has a surprisingly nice, warm smile when he’s not smirking. ‘Simon and Nora, right?’
‘That’s right,’ says Nora, pushing her pale-pink glasses up her nose. ‘And you’re Annie and Art?’
‘We are.’ Art looks at me like he’s expecting me to say something. I know I should say something. But my mind is blank and I can’t think of anything normal to say. God, what is it about this place? Why is it turning me into my twelve-year-old self?
I need to pull myself together.
‘These salads look good!’ I say brightly. Maybe too brightly?
‘They’re better than they used to be,’ says Nora. ‘They change the catering company every few years and the last one was terrible.’
‘I got food poisoning.’ Simon shudders. ‘Twice.’
‘Yikes,’ I say. ‘The vending machine sandwiches are looking pretty good right now.’
‘Never,’ says Nora dramatically, ‘eat the vending machine sandwiches.’
‘Too late,’ I say. ‘I had one yesterday.’
This is fine. I’m being normal. I’m acting like a normal, well-adjusted adult. Amn’t I?
‘So.’ Simon smiles at me. ‘How are you finding it all so far?’
‘An interesting change, thanks,’ says Art.
‘You were working over in LA, right?’ says Nora.
Is it my imagination, or does something flicker over Art’s face? But when he speaks, he sounds perfectly cheerful.
‘I was,’ he says. ‘I was living over there for, wow, almost thirteen years? Since I left college. I loved it there. I’m trying to brace myself for my first full Irish winter in years.’
‘What about you, Annie?’ says Simon.
‘Well, I’ve been in Newcastle for the last few years,’ I say, ‘and London before that. So the weather is pretty much the same. But I’m really thrilled to be writing forNorthside. I was a big fan growing up.’
‘Same,’ says Simon.
‘Me too,’ says Nora.
I glance at Art to see if he’ll make his feelings about soaps clear. He coughs and doesn’t meet my eye.
‘Yup,Northside’s an Irish institution,’ he says.
Very diplomatic. He clearly learned all about flattering people over in California.
‘So,’ says Simon, ‘about the meeting yesterday. There’s something you should know.’