My heart sinks even further.
‘Of course,’ says Art respectfully.
‘This anniversary night is the biggestNorthsideevent of the year,’ says Triona. ‘If these episodes can’t hit our viewer targets, we’ll have to seriously consider whether the show has a future after this season.’
We knewNorthsidewas under pressure. But hearing Triona herself confirm that its future could be hanging on these episodes?Ourepisodes?
‘We’ll do our best,’ says Art.
‘Well!’ Triona’s smile is a little fixed. ‘I look forward to seeing what you’ve come up with.’
‘We’ll have the scripts to Susan by Monday morning,’ I say, but Triona has already walked away.
My appetite pretty much vanishes after this, but we grab some lunch and head back to the office.
‘Don’t worry too much,’ says Art. ‘We’ve got two full days until the deadline. We’ll get this done. You’re okay with working together over the weekend, aren’t you?’
‘Yeah, of course,’ I say. ‘And we’ve got our lunch with Honoria tomorrow.’ My mood lifts just a little. ‘You never know, she might give us a few ideas.’
We do our best for the next few hours, but by seven we’re clearly both drained of all energy and inspiration. We call it a day. At least I’ll just about have time to go home and change before meeting Sinéad in town later.
‘Do you want a lift to Honoria’s house?’ says Art, as we walk out of the television building. ‘It’s a bit of a trek by bus and I’ve got my mum’s car. I could pick you up around half twelve.’
‘That’d be great, thanks.’ We’ve reached the turn-off for the bike sheds. ‘Do you remember where my house is?’
‘Oh, McDermott,’ says Art, strolling off towards his bike. ‘Of course I remember.’
‘There you are!’
Sinéad is already in the restaurant when I arrive, and as soon as I walk up to the table she stands up and folds me into a big hug. I hug her back. Despite my exhaustion, I’m suddenly very glad we’re meeting up tonight.
‘Oh my God, it’s so good to see you,’ she says. ‘I haven’t been able to leave the house much for the past few weeks. We’re at theheight of toilet training so Harry and I basically follow Sophie around the house waiting for her to make her “doing a poo” face and then pick her up and run to the loo at top speed. Neither of us has had a night out in ages.’
‘I’ll try not to make my own “doing a poo” face.’ As soon as the words are out of my mouth I worry that was a bit much. I haven’t seen Sinéad in months. Do I really want to restart our friendship with jokes about doing a poo? Is that too weird?
But Sinéad just laughs and says, ‘If you do, I’ll pick you up and whisk you off to the bathroom. I could do it too, my arms are pure muscle these days from carting Soph about the place. Come on, let’s get you a drink.’
Half an hour after my arrival, we’re eating delicious pasta and drinking the nicest wine I’ve had since I came home. Sinéad’s been telling me about her horrendous in-laws.
‘I was talking about how nice Sophie’s childminder is,’ she says. ‘And Harry’s mum said, “I don’t know why you paid so much for IVF if you’re not even going to look after her yourself.”’
I almost choke on my wine. ‘Jesus!’ I wish Roodidgo in for curses. ‘I hope Harry said something to her.’
‘Oh, don’t worry, he tore strips off her,’ says Sinéad. ‘He does his best. It’s not his fault his mother is a demon. It’s a miracle he turned out so lovely. Anyway! Tell me more about your insane new job.’ She takes a sip of wine. ‘I can’t believe you’re sharing a tiny office with Art Sullivan. I fancied him so much when I was sixteen.’
‘Wow, so you did,’ I say. ‘I’d forgotten that.’
‘When I knew he was calling over to see Mike, I used to fling myself down the stairs when the doorbell rang so I could let himin,’ says Sinéad. ‘I haven’t seen him in years.’ She grins at me. ‘Is he still hot?’
‘Um, I suppose he’s about as hot as he ever was,’ I say. ‘Whatever that means.’
Sinéad laughs. ‘I forgot how much you hated him.’
‘I don’t hate him now!’ Which is definitely true. But I don’t really know how I feel about him these days. Which is one reason why I haven’t told Sinéad about the Art situation. I don’t think the fact that I’ve shagged her teenage crush who happens to be her brother’s best friend is the best way to ease back into our friendship. I’m about to change the subject when Sinéad says, ‘God, what happened to him in LA was so unfair. How’s he doing now?’
‘He’s fine, I think,’ I say. ‘As much as anyone can be working atNorthsidethis month. What do you mean about LA?’
‘You know, the whole thing with his job,’ says Sinéad. ‘I can’t believe he was treated like that just because he tried to do the right thing.’