Carrie opens the menu and starts reading it out loud. ‘Homemade Irish stew, corned beef and cabbage…’ She looks up and rolls her eyes, then goes back to the menu. ‘Irish cheddar cheese on homemade soda bread.’ She runs a finger down the page. ‘Burgers made with genuine Irish beef.’ She snaps the menu shut. ‘Really? They import Irish beef?’

One of the guys at the bar, who has clearly been earwigging, leans over to our table. ‘They have to import everything here. Vegetables from China, because nothing grows. Meat from Russia…’

‘Thanks for your input,’ Carrie says, without turning round.

The other guy laughs, then slaps his friend on the back. ‘Buuuurn,’ he says, and gives me a wink.

I ignore him and open my menu. Why do men assume that all women want to talk to them? Sam and his irritating friends were exactly the same. Only difference was, I actually did want to talk to him, but it was hard to get into a proper conversation with the others around.

Carrie leans across the table and whispers, ‘Maybe later … Let’s make them work for it.’

I give her a small smile, hoping it masks my irritation. She is one of those women who craves male attention. I’d hoped she was better than that. I need to captivate her more, it seems.

‘Oh!’ She slaps her hands on the table. ‘I’m so stupid. You’re thinking about Sam, aren’t you? I’m so insensitive…’

‘I’m not thinking about Sam,’ I lie. ‘I’d rather just talk to you, though. Not them.’

She shrugs. ‘Fair enough.’

The waitress returns with our pints and a basket of popcorn.

‘Later for food,’ Carrie says, taking a handful and stuffing it into her mouth. She chews quickly, then licks the salt off her lips. ‘OK, forget Sam. Forget men.’ She lifts her pint then mouths a kiss at me over the top of it.

I decide to move on. ‘Do you think Geriel is expecting us for dinner?’ One of the men from the bar looks over at us again, but his mate nudges him and mutters something I can’t hear. Then they laugh, and I know they are saying something shit about us, because that’s what these types always do.

‘Oh, Geriel … sweetness and light – is that what she said?’

‘Something like that.’

‘I was named after the Stephen King character. My mum was a massive fan.’

I’m about to take a drink and have to stop to take this in. ‘No way? Wasn’t she a bit mental?’