Page 56 of Experiments in Offline Dating

Maya: A waterfall? Inside the cave?

Orla: Yes. It was beautiful, and they’d spread some blankets and cushions out on a flat rock away from the water, and there were loads of flowers and a big picnic basket and a whole cake, even a couple of lanterns, though the sun was plenty bright enough. I saw a bottle of wine chilling in a bucket, and I thought I could probably stay long enough to drink that, no matter who the date was with, but then that was when Billy comes out and says hello.

Maya: Did you never suspect that maybe it would be Bill?

Orla: No, I didn’t. He’d long since given up trying to win me back, or so I’d thought. So he comes out and he says, “Hello, Orla. It’s me, Bill,” as if I couldn’t see him standing right in front of me eyes, and I called him a few names—

Bill: Called me a plucked twat, she did!

Maya: Oh no! That’s hilarious!

Orla: And I told Jackie to drive me right back home. But then I looked at the cake and the wine, and I was hungry after all that traveling—

Bill: I knew the cake would get ye. That’s why I put it out in the front like.

Orla: You were right. Caught me like a fish on a line. Well, I said to Jackie to wait outside, and I would listen to the eejit just long enough to eat some cake and go.

Bill: She told me I had ten minutes and not a minute more.

Orla: That’s right.

Bill: So I opened the wine and sliced the cake and pulled out the sandwiches and berries and left them out just so—all invitin’ like.

Orla: It was a nice spread, Billy, I’ll give ye that.

Bill: Who could say no? And while she ate her cake and drank her wine, she listened to me apologize and explain why I had gotten nervous and turned her down.

Orla: Like a fool.

Bill: Aye, like a fool. I told her that I was still in love with her, and every day I woke up without her next to me as my wife was like an eternity of rain. I needed her to bring the sunshine back.

Orla: Can you believe that bollocks? You were a smooth talker back then, you old goat.

Maya: And did it work, Orla? Did Bill’s smooth talking win you back?

Orla: ’Course it bloody did. I fell for it like an egg from a tall chicken. But now, I’m a practical woman, Maya, and that didn’t mean I’d say yes. And even if I did, I was going to make him suffer first. Really drag it out to get me own back. So I finished my wine and cake and told him that I’d think about it and that his time was up and he wouldn’t be getting any more.

Bill: Never easy on me, Maya. Not a day in her life.

Orla: Oh, you wouldn’t have it any other way, would you, Billy?

Bill: No, I wouldn’t, me love, God help me.

Maya: So, how did you make her stay, Bill?

Orla: He didn’t. But when I tried to leave, I saw that the tide had come in while I’d been in there. The only way to get out was to wade out, and there was me wearing my new shoes and all.

Maya: What? No! You scoundrels!

Bill: I knew she wouldn’t be swimming in that cold seawater, even with that temper of hers to heat her through.

Orla: And you were right, you gombeen. I was trapped.

Bill: Well, you were. But trapping you seemed like the only way to keep you long enough to talk things through.

Maya: This is wild! How long were you trapped for?

Orla: About three hours, I’d say.