The Hat Shop on the Corner (9 page)

Ellie was working late, stitching the band on a particularly difficult piece of fabric, when she noticed that the lights in the old dance hall had gone off and that it was suddenly silent. She had been getting used to the sounds of guitars and drums and saxophones from the bands that played in the hall. It had closed down years ago and would form the nucleus for the massive Casey Coleman development but in the meantime it was serving as a temporary concert venue and a rehearsal space for Dublin’s legions of would-be U2 rock bands. She’d heard it was due to be demolished in a week or two. A few minutes later someone began knocking frantically on the shop door. Nervous, she got up from the stool and put down her work to peer outside. A stranger was banging on her freshly painted door. There wasn’t another sinner in the street and she opened it only a fraction, keeping the new chain on the door.

‘Sorry to disturb you, but I wondered if you might have a fuse.’

‘A fuse?’

‘Yeah,’ he shouted through the door. ‘We’ve blown the fuses across the road. Would you have a spare?’

She was sure that there was a box of new fuses somewhere. The lighting guy or the electrician had left them.

‘I think I have some,’ she said as she opened the door wider. ‘I’ll just check.’

Ellie could see longish hair and piercing blue eyes the same colour as the denim shirt he was wearing under his leather jacket. He didn’t look too dangerous, she thought as she opened the door a fraction further, still leaving the chain on.

‘Sorry to come hounding you like this at night, but I noticed your lights from across the street,’ he explained. ‘The lead guitar blew one of the big amps and I’m not sure what happened then. We can’t find any fuses in the dark over there and the Centra up the street and the newsagent’s have shut. The band were just rehearsing.’

‘Band?’

‘Yeah, Rothko.’

‘Hold on and I’ll just look for those fuses.’ She tried to think where they were. Maybe near the fuse box at the back of the shop or where the torch and fire extinguisher were stored. A few seconds later she’d found the packet of fuses and took out three. Holding them in her hand, she realized that she would have to unlatch the door to pass them to him.

He sensed her apprehension.

‘I hope I didn’t scare you,’ he apologized. ‘I didn’t mean to.’

‘It’s all right. Anyways here’s a few fuses.’

‘You’re a life-saver, thanks. I’ll drop you back some new ones tomorrow.’

‘It’s OK. Don’t worry.’ She blushed, realizing that one of the best-looking guys she’d ever spoken to was only inches from her.

He smiled at her as he dropped the fuses into his pocket. ‘Thanks.’

A few minutes later the light and guitar sounds and drumming resumed as Ellie tried to concentrate on finishing the hat. Deciding to call it a night half an hour later, she shut up shop.

It was a lunchtime when she bumped into him next. She was queuing for a sandwich in O’Brien’s and he was coming out of it, holding a caffè latte and a sandwich in one hand.

‘Our saving grace.’ He smiled, recognizing her.

‘It’s Ellie actually,’ she informed him, hoping that he would somehow remember her name.

‘Like above the shop,’ he said with a twinkle in his eye, as she reddened. She was mortified.

‘And I’m Rory, by the way, Rory Dunne.’

Introductions over and standing there in front of him she couldn’t help but notice that he was much taller than her and had a very slight dimple in his right cheek. Stop it, she told herself.

‘Just going to take a break, if you care to join me.’

‘I have to wait for my sandwich.’

‘Then I’ll wait too.’

She cursed herself for ordering a messy tuna and onion on rye but it was too late to change her order and she would just have to eat it in front of him. She watched as the girl wrapped it and gave her change.

‘Well, we can head back to the bowels of the old hall and the wail of two untuned guitars played by a bunch of desperadoes without a musical note in their souls, or take a walk up to the park.’

She laughed. ‘The park please.’

They fell into step side by side, chatting easily as they crossed the busy road, and managed to find an empty park bench beside the lake to sit on.

‘Always love those ducks,’ grinned Rory. ‘Talk a lot of sense, so they do.’

Ellie was amused, for she had come to the same conclusion long ago that the ducks in St Stephen’s Green knew far more about life and what matters than they quacked on.

She asked him about his band as she tried to eat her tuna sandwich in some kind of gracious way.

‘I’m not in a band,’ he protested. ‘I’m their big bad manager.’

He sounded interesting, she thought.

‘I used to sing till I was about fourteen but I literally woke up one morning and my voice was gone.’

‘Gone?’

‘Yep, I got height and hair and hormones overnight but my singing voice was kaput, truly awful and broken. There was my singing career down the tubes before it even got started. So I gathered myself together and since I could play a few notes on the old man’s guitar I reckoned I’d find another way into the music business – I didn’t realize Dublin was full to bursting with would-be Rory Gallaghers and Edges, so I gave that up too. Managing bands was the obvious and the last resort.’

She watched as he ate his sliced beef and mustard sandwich, praying that the tuna sandwich on her lap wouldn’t fall all over the place as she discreetly tried to nibble it. ‘And do you like it?’

‘Some days the guys drive me crazy when they don’t turn up, or forget where they are meant to be. They can be like a load of big babies that need serious handling, but most of the time it’s great.

‘What about you?’ he quizzed, turning his gaze on her. ‘How long have you been working in the hat shop?’

‘The shop has been in the family for years. It was my mother’s but she passed away a while ago and for some mad reason I decided to stay on and run it.’

‘Good for you!’

‘I’m not sure it was the wisest of decisions but I do love it.’

‘We all have to take risks,’ he said, fixing her with his blue eyes. ‘That’s what makes life interesting.’

Ellie swallowed hard, knowing that sitting here talking to an utter stranger over an al fresco lunch in the sunshine was risky.

‘I’d better get back,’ she apologized, standing up.

‘Why don’t you stay longer, chill out for the afternoon?’

‘No, I can’t,’ she said, seriously tempted. ‘I’ve someone collecting a hat at two thirty.’

‘Well, I guess I’ll hang out here with the ducks for another hour, but if you’re free on Friday night the guys are doing a gig and you’re welcome to come along.’

‘Where?’

‘Across the street. It’ll probably be the last in good old McGonagle’s,’ he admitted as he tossed a crust of bread into the lake. ‘Would you like to come?’

Walking back down Dawson Street a few minutes later with a smile plastered all over her face, Ellie could scarcely believe that she had accepted his invitation and was going to spend Friday night with Rory Dunne and Rothko.

             

Ellie pulled on a pair of figure-hugging denim jeans, her black leather boots and a black T-shirt, dabbing expensive perfume on her pulse points. She was nervous about meeting Rory. It had been an age since she’d gone on a date. He seemed self-assured and easy to talk to, and the fact that he was five foot ten and good-looking and reminded her of Ewan McGregor was even better. She’d washed her hair and was glad that she had made the effort to chase home to the flat after work on Friday night to change.

Rory had said that he’d put her on the guest list and seeing the line of fans queuing along the street she walked past them and up to the door. They seemed a good-natured crowd out for a fun night, some wearing Rothko T-shirts. It reminded her of her student days when she had spent two years traipsing around after a guitar player called Steve, who had almost broken her heart. The last she’d heard of him he was married and working as a web designer in Cork.

Inside it was crowded and dark and she hadn’t a clue where Rory might be. Hopefully he would find her, she thought as she surveyed the old dance hall. The patrons were for the most part male with long hair, cropped hair or dyed hair, dressed in leather and denim. A few females tottered around in killer heels, shaking their heads in time to the rhythm of the guitarist on stage as they greeted those around them. Ellie suddenly felt old and alone as she pushed towards the stage. She was mad not to be following her normal Friday night routine of drinks with Fergus and Mary-Claire and Kim.

‘Hey, Ellie!’ called Rory. ‘I was looking for you. I told the guy on the door to give me a shout when you arrived.’

He was standing in front of her looking suitably dishevelled in a Rothko T-shirt and a pair of jeans. Ellie, surprised when he brushed his lips against hers, resisted the urge to kiss him back, blushing when she saw the answering grin on his face. He had got the picture – they liked each other.

‘Come on and I’ll get you a drink. The guys will be on in about twenty minutes. Jules is just the warm-up act.’

She followed him to the bar and sat beside him as he ordered two chilled beers. The band playing weren’t bad and Rory filled her in about Rothko.

‘The band’s starting to get a few plays of this new album, get noticed. They’ve got a loyal fan base and they’re building on it,’ he boasted. ‘I’ll bring you to meet the guys backstage afterwards, OK?’

Rory introduced her to two other couples standing near them and a fantastic-looking girl with long blond hair almost to her waist.

‘This is Jen. She’s Sean the lead singer’s lady.’

Ellie was left chatting with Jen while Rory ran backstage to check all was under control with the band. He reappeared at her side and slipped his arm round her waist.

Minutes later the crowd broke into a roar of welcome as the band strode on stage and plugged in their guitars. The sound reverberated round the hall as everyone went wild and surged forward.

Down low in her stomach Ellie could feel the bass guitar’s notes resonate as Rothko launched into ‘Cloud Chasing’, the lead singer stepping forward, his dark hair swinging over his face as he began. The next hour and a half were great, the band different from others she’d seen. Ellie joined in with the surging mass around her, jumping up and down, heart pumping, sweating and calling for more until the band wound down and played their last song, ‘Profusion’. She joined in the applause, for they were a great bunch of guys playing all their own songs.

A final encore of ‘Dedicated’ nearly brought the house down and Ellie had to grab hold of Rory’s arm to avoid being pitched forward.

‘Pretty good,’ Rory announced proudly, as people congratulated him on the band’s performance.

‘They’re amazing! Thanks for giving me the chance to see them play.’

‘Always great to see a band when they are on the way up and just about to break through.’

As the crowd began to disperse, he pulled her along the edge of the stage and in through the stage door. The bouncer stepped back out of their way. Ellie was suddenly a little nervous as Rory gave her a reassuring squeeze of his fingers.

The backstage room was packed. Two of the band were drinking pints of beer while Sean and Ed, the lead guitarist, made do with spring water. Sean, stripped to the waist and with a towel flung over his shoulder, called Rory over immediately.

‘I spotted Declan in the audience, he said he wants to talk to you later.’

‘Sure, I’ll sort it out. Don’t worry. You did great – he’ll have seen that tonight so it puts us in a way better position.’

Over the next hour Ellie chatted with a selection of wives, girlfriends, proud parents and a wild red-haired grandmother who kept telling her what a wonderful boy young Sean had been. They were a nice bunch of guys. Ed and Cian and Sean and the drummer Bren had been so welcoming to her that when Rory suggested she join them all in the Thai restaurant on George’s Street for supper she agreed to go along. They got a table for twenty and Ellie tried to keep her composure when she was introduced to Declan O’Hagan, the guy from the record company, as Rory’s new girlfriend.