SAM, CLEARLY TOUCHED BUT TRYING NOT TO SHOW IT.
SAM:
Thanks.
ANDREW:
Don’t mention it.
SAM:
Are we actually having a moment here?
ANDREW:
I think we might be.
SAM:
Better change the subject.
SAM AND ANDREW PULL THEMSELVES TOGETHER
ANDREW:
(BANTERING TONE): So, are you planning to tell this woman you live over a shop near the canal? Or will you pretend you’re from somewhere more posh?
SAM:
I’ll tell her the truth!
ANDREW:
You’ve changed. Didn’t you tell some girl in school you were from Clontarf?
SAM:
Maybe I’ve grown up a bit. Charlemont Street isn’t so bad.
ANDREW:
I always thought you couldn’t wait to get away from here. Didn’t you call it a kip this morning?
SAM:
Yeah well, maybe it wasn’t always a kip. Maybe it doesn’t have to be a kip. And look, it’s not like I want to stay here forever, God, of course I don’t! But I do care what happens to this place and I care about the people who work here and I don’t want to see it burned to the ground. And yes, I know my boss is a total psychopath, and literally everything about working here is insane – Ihad sex in the officetoday, what the actual fuck is happening to me – and I should probably run for the hills for the sake of my sanity but still, it’s all so COMPLICATED. Jesus, how the hell did it get so fucking complicated?
Delete, delete, delete, delete, delete …
Chapter Eighteen
INT:NORTHSIDEOFFICES / EXT:NORTHSIDESET
I start to hope that maybe, just maybe, my luck is turning the next day. Because at around half ten, when I go into the kitchen to make a cup of tea, Róisín is pouring water from the kettle into a mug.
‘Hey!’ she says. ‘How are you? Do you want some tea?’
‘I’d love some,’ I say. Róisín pops a teabag into another mug. ‘Actually,’ I continue, ‘I was hoping I’d bump into you.’