the gods were conspiring to make tonight perfect. The rain had held off – having an outdoor gig in Ireland was always like playing Russian roulette – and the weather was properly warm.
Unlike other gigs, no one was dancing into her and slopping their beer everywhere. She already knew all the songs inside-out, but hearing them live was different, enhanced. When they played ‘The Shrine’, an image of eagles flying past white-tipped mountains against a too-blue sky flashed in her head. What was that from? A movie she’d seen as a young kid? Something about the height of the mountains, the feelings of awe and fear they generated, felt very young.
In the break before the next song, she pulled Ed’s head close to her mouth. ‘That made me feel nostalgic for a life I didn’t live. High in the mountains. Maybe in Nepal.’
‘It reminded me of Cannery Row. Even though I haven’t read it.’
Solemnly, she nodded. ‘I get you,’ she said.
‘I know you do.’ His teeth flashed in the darkness.
The mood here tonight was perfect. Everyone seemed happy, and no one was messy drunk and shouting rowdy requests at the band …
Another song began. She tried to hold onto the poetry of the lyrics, but the next sentence came, equally enthralling, until all she had was the feeling, and none of the meaning. But the meaning was the feeling. How profound was that?
‘Y’okay?’ Ed asked.
‘I feel a bit stoned,’ she called, over the noise of the band. ‘Just from the music.’
His sidelong smile, the way his eyes crinkled, the bat of his lashes tipped her into a momentary wonder.
‘What?’ he asked.
‘You’re mine.’
‘Of course I am.’
‘Good. Thank you, Ed. Good.’
They held the gaze a moment longer, then both dissolved into laughter.
‘Two glasses of wine,’ he said.
‘Cheap date. Always was.’
Song after song played, an unending chain of beauties, each better than the one before. But suddenly it was over, the band were thanking Dublin, then leaving the stage. In alarm, she said to Ed, ‘They haven’t played “Mykonos”.’
She and Ed had discovered the first album in their early days of falling in love. Nearly every track was great, but ‘Mykonos’ was special.
‘Encore,’ he said. ‘They’ll do it then.’
‘You promise?’ she asked.
‘I can’t.’ Ever literal. ‘But I’m ninety-nine per cent certain. Oh, they’re back. Here we go …’
When the guitar chords of ‘Mykonos’ started, she turned to Ed. ‘You were right!’
He was already reaching for her. She pressed her back against his chest and he held her tightly.
After the second encore, even when the lights went up and people began drifting to the exits, she didn’t want to leave. ‘Are they really gone?’
‘Really gone this time, honey.’
‘Oh, Ed,’ she said. ‘That was just … I don’t have the words … like amazing.’
‘It was. Totally. Thank you for this.’
‘You had a good time? Because you deserve the best time. It was like a spiritual experience. Wasn’t it?’
He laughed. ‘I don’t know what they’re like. But if it felt like one, then ipso facto, it was.’
‘It felt like one.’ She was definite about this. ‘Ipso facto indeed!’ Then she began to laugh. ‘The state of me. “Woman Explodes From Her Own Intensity”.’
‘Be as intense as you like. So what now? We go for a drink?’
She shook her head. ‘Just want to go home and listen to the first album again. I want to listen to nothing else for the rest of my life.’ Then, ‘Oh, Ed, sorry! It’s your night. This is your date. You get to decide.’
‘We’re on a date?’
‘… Yes. Even though it’s a cringe concept, yep, we’re on a date.’
He laughed. ‘In that case, I just want to go home with you.’
‘You sound very sure of that.’
‘I am.’ Holding her hand, tightly, he moved them towards the Luas.
The house was empty. The boys and Baxter were on a reluctant sleep-over with Cara’s parents.
‘Tonight was everything,’ Cara said, dreamily, wandering after Ed as he unplugged stuff and turned off the lights. ‘The weather – can you believe the weather? The crowd were so mellow. No one off their face or pushing or …’ She yawned. ‘It was totally …’
She climbed the stairs, Ed following.
Absently, she unwound the bobble around her ponytail and threw it over her shoulder at him.
‘Oh, yeah?’ he said.
Oh. Yeah.
In the bedroom, she put on the music. With careless distraction, she removed her clothes as Ed rolled a spliff. Tonight, she was comfortable in her own skin. He lit the spliff, she lay back against the pillows and he put