The Matchmaker

by Catherine Walsh

Billionaires are taking private jets to their islands on the weekend, I’m allowed to use a plastic straw every now and then.”

“A headache girl.” I tsk. “You didn’t stand a chance. You should stay away from them in the future.” “You’re not a headache girl then?” “I’m a stomachache girl. Whole different vibe.”

The céilí was a good move. Even if most of those taking part don’t know what to do. But they don’t seem too worried about getting it right. In fact, they’re happier when they get it wrong, falling over themselves with laughter, sometimes straight into each other’s arms.