Grown Ups - Marian Keyes Page 0,156

bodysuits fluttered by, wearing wings lit up by LED strips.

‘Who are they?’ Nell stared after them as they flickered off into the night.

‘Just people being fireflies,’ Johnny said.

‘I love it here.’

‘I hope you’ll still love it after you’ve worked six cookery demos,’ Jessie said. ‘Three tomorrow, three on Sunday, at ten, twelve thirty and four o’clock, each forty-five minutes long. Float around with a tray of food, have a chat. If they seem friendly, ask if they’d like to be on our mailing list. No need to be pushy. If they’re not keen, be nice and move on.

‘Just you two will be doing the ten a.m. and twelve thirty sessions. But Ferdia and Perla will be there for the rest. If you can get to each demo fifteen minutes early that would be great. Apart from that, your time is your own.’

‘But everyone is coming to Momoland at five thirty,’ Dilly insisted. ‘A girl band. K-pop. From Korea! Oh, Nell, they’re so cute.’

‘We love them,’ Bridey said.

‘There’s nine girls,’ Dilly gushed. ‘They all have different hair.’

‘They’re too girly,’ TJ said. ‘But I like the songs. And sometimes their videos are funny.’

‘It’s bubblegum pop,’ Dilly said.

That made Nell laugh. ‘What do you know about bubblegum pop?’

‘It’s what Ferdia said.’ Defensively, she declared, ‘And there’s nothing wrong with it. I’ll teach you the moves.’

Furtively, Jessie leant very close to Nell. ‘You want to come to the burlesque dance class tomorrow afternoon?’

‘Ugh … no.’

‘But don’t you feel the pressure? To keep adding to your sexual skill set.’

‘Like, no. We’re not performing dolls. Sex should be an equal, loving thing between two people.’

Jessie looked perplexed. ‘I struggle to keep up. I thought all young people did porn-star sex.’

‘Maybe I’m not young.’

‘You are young.’

‘Don’t forget Ferdia’s thing,’ Bridey said. ‘That’s at one thirty.’

‘What thing?’

‘In the brainy-people’s tent. He’s talking about free tampons for Perla.’

‘And other ladies!’ Dilly corrected her. ‘Not just Perla.’

‘Didn’t you know?’ Jessie frowned at Nell. ‘I thought you would. He’s “raising awareness about period poverty”.’

Johnny buried his face in his hands. ‘Of all the causes he had to pick. He’s doing it on purpose to mortify me.’

‘That reaction of yours is exactly why it needs to be done!’ Then Jessie muttered, ‘Mind you, I’m a bit morto myself.’

‘I didn’t know.’ Nell was stunned.

‘He’s been pestering politicians, pharmacy chains, journalists, all kinds of people. He was working on it while we were in Italy – I was sure he’d have told you. It’s very worthy. Mind you, he can knock it off now he’s back in college. If he doesn’t get a decent degree, I’ll kill him.’

Nell was stabbing at the app, trying to get details – and there it was. ‘Make Period Poverty History’. Apparently, Ferdia Kinsella and Perla Zoghbi were hosting a panel discussion at one thirty tomorrow in the Lightbulb Zone, where the literary and political talks took place.

This was … astonishing.

Suddenly it was all too much for Nell. ‘Hey, do you mind if I go to bed now?’

‘Aren’t you coming to make memories at Janelle Monáe?’ Dilly asked.

‘Too tired for memory-making tonight.’ She squinted at Dilly. ‘You’re eight years old. Don’t you need to go to bed?’

‘No. I’m – What did that lady say I was, Mum?’

‘Precocious.’

‘That word. That’s what I am.’

Nell found her tent and tumbled into bed without ringing Liam to say goodnight. If he complained, she’d pretend her phone had no signal.

NINETY

Johnny and Jessie were flanking the work station, keeping an apprehensive eye on Anrai McDavitt, who was as famous for his outbursts of rage as for his skill with a scallion.

Nell began circulating, iPad in hand. Pestering punters was daunting. Some were ultra-serious about food and cooking and did not respond well to any light-heartedness. Others were merely passing the tent and had popped in to be scornful. ‘Heard about your man. What is it with chefs and anger management?’

Everyone willingly gave up their info but, even so, Nell was relieved when it was over.

‘How d’you get on?’ Johnny asked.

‘Johnny! You should be given an award for all the excellent talking you do. You make it look effortless and it is hard.’

‘Any oul eejit can do it.’

‘They totally can’t. It is killer.’

‘Peasy.’ Ed had appeared.

‘That so?’ Johnny asked him. ‘How many people did you get?’

‘… Ah. Four. No, three. Feck, I forgot to ask the last man for his email.’

‘What were you talking about?’

‘Mammals unique to Madagascar. Did you know that –’

‘No. And I don’t want to. Nell, how many did you get?’

‘Thirty-one …’

There was

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