when I take a long chug. I haven’t drunk white wine in ages, and I just know it will go straight to my head, but I need something to settle my runaway train of thought.
‘Are you going back to New York tonight, Aidan?’ asks Ben, very comfortable in his surroundings now he is right back in his happy place. Aidan serves dinner on Ben’s favourite plate, a hexagon shape made of white bone china. Ben believed it to be from the country China and of course Mabel spun him a yarn about how it had some sort of magical powers that made those who dined from it go on to do marvellous, magnificent things.
‘I’d – well, I’d planned to leave tomorrow afternoon,’ explains Aidan as he serves up my food and lastly his own. He glances at me, as if to gauge my response, but I don’t give anything away. I can play the perfect poker face when I need to. God knows I’ve had to do it so often in life. ‘I’d hoped to stay a little bit longer, but something has come up in work that I’d best be there for.’
‘Aw! Does that mean we’re getting new neighbours already?’ asks Ben, already tucking in to his succulent turkey, with gravy dripping off his chin. I pass him a napkin to wipe it since he has already tucked his own into his jumper, which I know he believes makes him look posh.
‘Well, I’m not very sure of that yet,’ says Aidan, shifting in his seat a little. ‘I was all set to sell the house as quickly as possible, but … well—’
I feel it’s time to take the reins and rescue him from any awkward explanations as to why he has taken down the For Sale sign outside, reminding myself that it’s not really our business.
‘Let’s talk about all that later, is that OK, Ben?’ I suggest, sensing Aidan’s immediate relief. ‘Now, eat up before your delicious food gets cold.’
The chat over dinner has a distinctive air of a long goodbye, with the only saving grace being the exceptional food and Ben’s constant chatter about facts of New York that he has been obsessing over since he first met Aidan.
‘There are twice as many people living in New York City than there are in the whole of Ireland,’ Ben tells us, talking with his mouth full on more than one occasion despite my reminders not to. ‘Isn’t that crazy? I can’t wait to go there. I just know it’s going to be so cool when we visit. Can someone really go there three hundred times though? I do think Brandon is lying.’
I roll my eyes in mock apology.
There’s no doubt about it, my boy is becoming smitten with New York and with Aidan Murphy and I’m terrified at the crash of reality that’s about to come our way when he is gone. I’ve never been to New York City and I very much doubt I’d be able to afford to go there anytime soon, but for now I’m just glad that Ben has something to get excited about even if it’s just a pipe dream.
‘I really hope you can come and visit me some day, for sure,’ says Aidan, shooting me a wink. ‘And I’ll try and dig out that helicopter Mabel told you about, Ben.’
We finish our evening in front of a roaring fire in Mabel’s sitting room, with Ben lounging around like he owns the place, which for long enough, he was very much made to believe he did. Aidan doesn’t seem to mind at all that he helps himself to a train from a wicker basket of toys that sits in the corner of the room, beside a fringed standard lamp that I realize would look so good in Truly Vintage if the time ever comes for it to find a new home.
I want to know why Aidan isn’t selling the house after all, but I don’t dare ask. The wine from dinner has relaxed me no end, and I’m enjoying the buzz it gives me, taking away the urge to analyse or make any interpretation of Aidan’s every word, his every move or his every glance in my direction.
‘Those toys are as old as I am,’ says Aidan, watching Ben.
At ten years old, Ben had long outgrown playing around a floor with a train set, but I always said that no matter what age he was, he always turned into a little boy again when