Falling in Love in New York (9 page)

“Penne arrabiatta,” the waitress announced, placing a steaming bowl of pasta on the table in front of Erin, and then a slice of lasagne before Abby.

“Thank you very much,” Abby replied, her mouth watering at the sight of it. Hospital food also had a way of making you appreciate the simplest things!

“Parmesan?” the waitress enquired.

“Not for me thanks,” Erin replied immediately.

“Madam?” She looked at Abby, waiting for an answer.

“I’m sorry–what?” Abby hadn’t the faintest idea what the woman was talking about and was vaguely impressed that Erin seemed to.

“Would you like some parmesan?”

She looked across at Erin, hoping her friend might enlighten her as to what the waitress was saying. What on earth was parmesan?

“I’m sorry … I’m not sure I understand …”

Erin glanced across at her. “Do you want parmesan on your lasagne?”

She looked down at her plate, feeling very gauche indeed. Evidently parmesan was some new trendy Italian herb or something. The last time Abby had been out for a proper Italian meal, sun-dried tomatoes were all the rage, but according to Caroline were now ‘
soo
nineties’. Being the farthest thing in the world from a ‘foodie’, Abby had never been any good at keeping up with that kind of thing. But what the hell, the stuff looked innocuous enough.

“Yes please,” she said smiling up at the waitress, who duly sprinkled some of it on top of her lasagne.

Erin seemed surprised. “Well
that’s
certainly a turn-up for the books!” she said once they were alone again. “Didn’t you say before you thought it smelt like mouldy socks?”

“Did I?” Abby reckoned Erin had to be confusing her with someone else, as up until now, she hadn’t a clue that this stuff existed, let alone pass comment on what it smelt like!

“So what else did you get up to in Dubai?” she asked then. Judging by what her friend had told her so far, it seemed she’d missed all the fun.

Finn was about to begin training a new batch of recruits, which he usually found good fun but at the same time hugely challenging.

Although most of the young guide dogs had been born ‘on campus’ at the centre in Blanchardstown, they had spent the first year of their lives being raised and socialised in the home of one of the centre’s many volunteer puppy raisers. For the first few weeks back at base, the dogs were always a little out of sorts and Finn knew they were missing their raisers as well as the comforts of home. So for this reason, the first phase of training generally consisted of his taking them for relaxing walks around the centre and helping them get to know their trainers as well as the kennel environment and routine. But most dogs tended to settled down very soon, and the personality traits that made Labradors such magnificent guide dogs; their willingness to work, eagerness to please, and absolute adoration of praise soon became readily apparent.

Throughout the training process
, Finn and his colleagues repeatedly used an abundance of rewards including physical and verbal affection, all of which built up motivation, confidence and most importantly, a happy working guide dog.

The young dog Finn was working with today, Jack, had a lovely, gentle manner, and was so far responding extremely well to his obedience training. He learnt very quickly and reacted brilliantly to all of Finn’s cues, and unlike some other dogs hadn’t batted an eyelid at wearing the harness. That morning alone, Finn had taught him how to walk in a perfectly straight line from A to B and almost instinctively and without any major prompting, Jack also walked Finn safely around the obstacles placed in his path. It was remarkable progress, and from what he’d seen so far, Finn was hugely confident that Jack would sail through the rest of his training and eventually qualify as a working guide dog.

But, shortly after lunch, Finn discovered Jack’s achilles heel.

Exposure to distraction was a major part of the process and for this purpose, while the young guide dogs were in training, other breeds were allowed run freely in the area–dogs who were hugely inquisitive, equally aggressive and who loved nothing better than getting close up and confrontational with larger ones. Jack Russell terriers were notorious for this ‘in your face’ behaviour, and the centre manager’s own pet terrier was a perfect example. Small and annoyingly yappy, Rasher loved nothing better than to run up and bark at the training dogs, and do his best to try and distract them. It was the ultimate test of patience for any dog–trainee or not–and the majority, including Jack, passed it with flying colours, and much to Rasher’s chagrin, ignored him completely.

For the next challenge, the trainees were introduced to an entirely different animal, one they’d been waging wars with since the beginning of time, a relentless battle that over the years had spawned a multitude of cartoons, books and films. Not to mention one that found the prospect of trying to distract the trainees even more of a pleasure than Rasher did.

Let’s see how you fare this time
, Finn thought to himself, as he once again attached the harness, and he and Jack set out on a supposedly casual walk around the arena. They’d walked only a couple of yards before the harness went rigid and Jack stopped short quickly, the hair on the back of his neck standing up. Then, almost before Finn knew what was happening, the dog pulled furiously on the harness and careered off-path and in another direction. He didn’t stop until he reached the boundary wall whereupon a black cat was washing herself lazily in the sun. Then, having reached the wall and dragged Finn all the way, the young dog barked wildly at the cat who determinedly ignored him and continued washing herself

“Jack, meet Sooty,” Finn muttered, his tone filled with disappointment at the dog’s reaction.

Despite his earlier promise, Jack would
not
be graduating as a working guide dog. After this, Finn thought sadly, he’d be lucky to get a job at all.

That same evening he relayed the story in full to his dinner companion.

“It’s a shame–he was a great dog, and had so much promise too.”

“Really.” Finn’s date Karina was playing with the stem of her wineglass and he realised, seemed to be only half-listening. OK, so he probably banged on a little too much about his job, but what did you talk about when you barely knew the person sitting opposite you?

They’d bumped into one another a few times at parties and social gatherings held by Finn’s best mate Chris, so tonight couldn’t exactly be described as a blind date, but it might as well have been. Finn didn’t know a whole lot about Karina Dowling other than she was single, nice-looking and evidently wasn’t all that interested in the ins an outs of guide dog training.

Then again, why would she be? Granted it probably wasn’t all that interesting to anyone other than himself and if Karina had spent the entire meal so far going on about her beautician’s job, Finn’s eyes would probably glaze over too.

“Anyway, how’s your starter?” he asked, deciding to change the subject.

They were in a restaurant in the centre of Dublin called
Pepe
that Chris had recommended. Finn had asked his mate for a recommendation because for the life of him he didn’t know where to go in town these days.

Even though Balbriggan was only a few miles from the city, it might as well have been a completely different country in terms of facilities, and as Finn didn’t venture into town all that much to socialise, he found it difficult  to keep up with what was and wasn’t the city’s latest hotspot.

Most of his old mates still lived and worked in the city and the cosmopolitan lives they led were million miles away from the quieter, rural pace he preferred. As the only still-remaining unattached male of the group his friends seemed to think it was their duty to fix him up with various available women, and just didn’t believe Finn when he tried to tell them that he was happy enough on his own, and since Danielle, had little interest in a serious relationship.

It had been over six months since his last ‘arranged’ outing, which had literally ended before it had even begun. While Finn had thought casual and easygoing was the way to go for a first date with a stranger, his companion Sandra, another friend of a friend, was obviously expecting the Michelin star treatment and had dressed accordingly in some glittery dress and fancy heels combo. So when Finn picked her up in the Landrover and suggested they drive out along the coast and maybe catch a casual bite somewhere like
Real Gourmet Burger
in Dun Laoghaire, she went completely apoplectic. 

“
Burgers
? I don’t do burgers,” she’d snapped, before calling Finn every name under the sun, the majority of them prefixed with ‘cheapskate’ ‘tightwad’ and ‘dickhead’.

Chris had laughed out loud when he’d heard.

“I know you’ve been out of the game for a while but mate, you’ve still got a lot to learn. Most girls in this town wouldn’t be seen
dead
in a burger joint, these days, it’s five-star treatment or nothing.”

Which is why he’d recommended the place Finn and his latest companion were in now, and while it was supposed to be one of the ‘in’ places in the city, Finn had so far found it cold and pretentious.

The staff were stiff and condescending and upon his arrival had looked down their noses at Finn’s casual attire of jeans and black short-sleeved shirt. And although he couldn’t be absolutely sure, he could have sworn he heard them poking fun behind his back at his wine-tasting. Finn wasn’t into all that sniffing and swirling it around in the glass bullshit–in fairness, he wasn’t that much into wine at
all
, but Karina seemed to like it, so that was OK with him. In any case, he couldn’t imagine a bottle of beer being allowed within ten feet of a place like this, so concerned they’d be that such a populist drink might affect their precious credibility. 

“It’s just delicious,” said Karina, in response to his question about the food. “The scallops are perfectly cooked, with just the right amount of seasoning, and I’m getting a faint hint of something in the sauce that I think might be cinnamon. Yours?”

Finn gulped and looked down at his fairly ordinary looking fishcakes. “They’re um …grand,” he said, but Karina was still looking at him, evidently waiting for him to elaborate as if he was some kind of expert. “They taste …very nice.”

“Right. Well that’s good. It’ll be interesting to see what the chef does with my main. The last time I had pork in a restaurant like this, it looked and tasted like something you’d get in a pub.” She rolled her eyes. “Soooo disappointing.”

Finn was wondering why food from a pub was such a terrible thing when in fact pubs usually dished out tasty grub in nice big portions, not like the microscopic servings he saw them putting out on tables here–plates of food so small they wouldn’t fill a sparrow, and consisting primarily of scraps of barely-cooked meat smothered in blades of green grass. And why did she have to make a song and dance about what the chef ‘did’ with things? As far as he was concerned it was just food, not a bloody performance! Sometimes, Finn didn’t recognise the country he’d returned to a few years before; while the nation now seemed to have a lot more money, he wasn’t entirely sure they were the better for it.   

But whatever about Karina’s choice for the main course, at least he’d played it safe and gone for a nice, juicy sirloin. He’d need one what with the size of these fishcakes. Each no bigger than a fifty cent piece, Finn had consumed them in quick time, and was looking forward to filling up on meat and veg.

“I just think Dublin restaurants have a really long way to go before they can compete with those in London, don’t you?” Karina was saying, and Finn realised that this was the third time in the last half hour that she’d picked up her bag and started rummaging inside it. The strange thing was that she never seemed to take anything out or put something in.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, indicating the bag. “Have you forgotten something? Do you need a tissue or anything?”

Karina smiled. “Sorry–I just can’t help it. It’s Chloe, and it’s just sooo soft.”

What? Chris hadn’t said anything about her having a daughter. Not that Finn minded or anything but … “Chloe?”

“Yes. It’s the new one. Cost me nearly two grand, but it’s worth every penny. Especially,” she continued, her eyes lighting up as she surveyed the room, “as every woman in this room is going green over it!”

OK, now Finn was
seriously
lost.

“There was a six month waiting list in BTs. I think Victoria Smurfit got it a day or two ahead of me, whereas Andrea Corr was
miles
after.” She smiled gleefully.

Waiting list? Brown Thomas? What the hell was this woman going on about?

But Karina must have realised that the tables had been turned and it was now Finn whose eyes were glazing over, because she quickly put him out of his misery.

“You know, the new Chloe handbag,
designer
handbag? I can’t believe you don’t know, I thought
everyone
knew about these, they were on the news and everything.”

Finn couldn’t help thinking that he’d probably got sidetracked by some unimportant stuff like the country’s growing crime rates or the state of the economy. Bags called Chloe…how on earth could he have missed it?

As he watched Karina’s self-satisfied expression, he suddenly wanted to bolt from this shallow, overhyped, pretentious excuse for a restaurant, and run a million miles for his equally shallow and pretentious excuse for a date. What the hell was he doing here, trying to have a conversation with a woman who seemed to value nothing but appearances, and by all accounts seemed to think she was in an episode of some American soap opera?

Now it was all beginning to make sense, her question earlier about his jeans and ‘who’ they were. John Rocha? Paul Smith?  Followed by her lofty pronouncement to the waiter that she only drank ‘fine wine’ and could a sommelier recommend something suitable. If that was the case what did everyone else drink–shite wine?

Although he’d found it a bit odd at the time, Finn knew absolutely nothing about wine so he’d simply put this comment down to her evident superior knowledge of the subject. But now he understood Karina’s behaviour for what it was–vacant, silly and snobbish and knew that he no longer wanted any part in it.

Still, he wasn’t going to just up and leave, that would be downright rude, but at the same time, life was too short to have to put up with this kind of thing.

“Of course I know it’s a Chloe bag,” he said and picked up his wine glass before adding mischievously, “A good friend of mine got the latest one for her birthday last week.”

Karina’s eyes widened. “You mean the
very
latest one?” This was said with such reverence, that Finn nearly choked on his wine and because he and Karina could just as easily have been talking about alien life forms, he nodded in reply.

“But how? It won’t be released here until January!”

Yikes! Finn thought quickly. “Well, I think her husband picked one up in New York; he goes there on business quite a bit.”

“Lucky cow,” Karina said dreamily and there was such naked envy in her eyes that Finn felt almost guilty.