I’d be lying if I said things are off to a smooth start at Bewley’s Hotel in Ballsbridge. I haven’t even asked my first question and already I’ve been accused of attempted wedding crashing (the shame), and smuggling knives into an interview. The first was just a case of wrong place, wrong time, the second a misunderstanding involving the removal of my notes (not knives) from my man-bag.

Mini-dramas behind us, we’re onto the most pressing issue: Gabrielle Aplin has just released her new single ‘Please Don’t Say You Love Me’.
“Yaaayyy!”, she enthuses. “It’s out today.” I mention that it’s currently No. 2 on the iTunes chart. “Yeah, already. It’s amazing.”
She’s on a whistle-stop promo trip, including an appearance later on the Late
Late Show.
“I’m really excited about it,” she giggles, before telling me about her Irish roots.
“Yeah. My mam’s mam is Irish. My family are from all over the place. My mum never lived here. Her mum used to. So we’re from all over the place. Lots of Celtic roots, which is nice.”
Hearing the 20 year-old’s folk-pop sounds was enough to convince Ed Sheeran to invite Aplin to support him on his forthcoming Australian tour. There’s also an 11-date UK headline jaunt on the horizon for the Bath native. Does Aplin enjoy life on the road?
“More so now because we have a little crew. And as the venues get bigger, the touring gets a little more comfortable. You’re able to get a tour bus which is a massive help. Like everybody thinks having a tour bus is rock ‘n’ roll but it’s just because you can actually get to sleep properly.”
Alpin’s rather sentimentally-titled debut album, English Rain, will be with us on April 26.
“It’s been written for ages,” she informs me. “I had it pretty much all much done before I even signed my deal. Some of the songs are kind of re-recordings of stuff I’ve done already. A lot of it is new.”
Gaby has lots of Irish friends, and clocks up plenty of air miles to regularly gig with Alfie and Harry from Hudson Taylor. Top of her list tonight is a pre-Late Late Show visit to Bear restaurant. She almost jumps out of the chair when I mention the million dollar fries.
“I asked Joe who owns the restaurant, ‘Can I have the recipe?’ and he was like, ‘No’, which was very mean of him!”
I’m positing my theory on how to make the ultimate chip – the key component is lard – when the dreaded knock on the door arrives.
“We’ve been talking about food the whole time”, Gaby chuckles to her PR lady. “What’s that there, on your notes?” she then inquires, “I can see ‘PET FERRET’ in capital letters.” Indeed you can, Detective Aplin. “Do you have time to tell me about him?” I ask.
“He’s called Ferris, I’ll show you a picture of him after, he’s amazing. My friend had him and she couldn’t keep him, so I was like, ‘I’ll have him. Please don’t put him in a home’. Oh my God! I want all the ferrets, cats, dogs, parrots, everything. My house is like a zoo.”
I wonder if Ferris is a fan of the million dollar
fries too?