Heart and Soul by Maeve Binchy Page A

meant pretentious. Still, it was the only place he could think of.
    “Quentins?” he suggested, amazed that his voice sounded normal. In his own ears it felt like a screech.
    “Gosh,” Fiona said, impressed.
    “That okay, then?” He
must
sound casual.
    “And there's no Mrs. Declan, is there?” she asked.
    “No. No, there'll be just the two of us,” he stammered.
    “I didn't think you'd be inviting her to dinner,” Fiona said.
    “No, no, of course not. I mean there isn't one, a Mrs. Declan. Lord, no.”
    “Good,” said Fiona and went off to sort out some blood test results that should have gone to the hospital but had turned up here instead.
    Declan cycled home that day on a route that took him past Quentins. It looked very imposing. Declan wondered was he quite mad to have suggested this place. With any luck they might be full and he could honestly tell Fiona that he had tried. But no, when he called them on his mobile from round the corner it turned out that they could easily find a table for two. So he booked it, with a very heavy heart. Perhaps he should go in and examine it, give himself
some
hint of the familiarity he had claimed with the place. He pushed the door open. It was quite busy. There was a good-value Early Bird dinner there for people on their way to the theater.
    A handsome middle-aged woman, who seemed very much in charge, approached him; she was about to find him a table, but Molly Carroll's shepherd's pie would be shortly on the table at home.
    “No, excuse me, I was just coming to have a look. You see, I havenever been here before, but I have invited someone to dinner He realized that he sounded like a madman coming in from the street. This woman would probably ask him to leave and never allow him to be readmitted. What
a fool he
had been to come here and see the lay of the land. But she seemed to accept his behavior as normal.
    “Of course you want to have a look at the place. Let me take you on a quick tour. I'm Brenda Brennan, by the way; my husband, Patrick, is the chef here. We'd be delighted to show you around.”
    “I'm Declan Carroll,” he said, hardly daring to believe that he had been reprieved.
    “Yes, of course, Mr. Carroll, you rang a few moments ago. Let me show you the table I had in mind for you.” Dazed, he followed her from the oyster bar, with all its crushed ice, to the dessert display, with its fruit cascades tumbling from little pillars. She pointed out the rest rooms, and took him into the kitchen to meet Patrick and his brother with the odd name of Blouse. Dazed by it all, he thanked her and said how much he was looking forward to Thursday.
    “You are very kind, Mrs. Brennan, to take me on this tour. I am afraid that I'm not what you'd call experienced at all this fine dining.”
    “Few of us are, Mr. Carroll, but even fewer have the sense to admit it. Is this a big occasion on Thursday?”
    “It is for me. I have asked a most attractive girl out for the first time. I hope it will be a success.”
    “We'll do our best to make sure it is.” Brenda Brennan saw him off at the door as if he was a regular and honored client. She saw him getting on his bicycle and heading off happily into the traffic.
    “Very nice young fellow,” she said to Patrick in the kitchen.
    “Is he a doctor, by any chance?” Patrick asked.
    “Don't think so. He'd have said, they always do. Anyway, he doesn't have the sort of overconfidence the medics have. Why do you ask?”
    “Oh, remember, Judy Murphy said there was a young redheaded doctor on a bike who was walking the awful hounds for her? Could be the same guy.”
    “I'd say Dublin is full of them,” Brenda said and they got on withthe evening ahead, but she thought she might check with Judy next time she saw her.
    Declan sat down to his supper. Molly watched anxiously as he attacked the huge mound of food.
    “Tell me things that happened today” she begged.
    It wasn't much to ask. Not after a lifetime of denying herself