‘Have you seen the size of it? A pocket handkerchief. Why would he want to do that? It’s of no use to man nor beast, I promise you.’
Hannah shook her head. It might not make sense but the principle of it niggled. It wasn’t right. But as Conor had so clearly indicated, it wasn’t her problem.
When she knocked at the door of a tidy Georgian terrace an hour later, it was thrown open with an almighty crash and a red-haired bearded bear of a man appeared, as if he’d been lurking behind it waiting for her. He threw open his arms and snatched her into a hug.
‘Mother of God, Aidan, put the poor girl down,’ said a small blonde girl, wriggling and working her way into the hug as Hannah found her nose buried in a tweedy jacket and the soft silk of Sorcha’s blouse across her neck.
Sudden tears pricked at Hannah’s eyes at their enthusiastic welcome. Aidan and Sorcha had been two of her best friends, and she hadn’t realised until now how much she’d missed them.
‘By all that is holy. Hannah Campbell, just look at you.’ Aidan released her and stepped back to give her a quick inspection. ‘How the bloody hell are you? Apart from being very wet,’ he boomed in the rich baritone he’d been famed for, stepping back and brushing down his front. At university he’d been renowned for his ability to spot friends at the front of the bar and yelling in his powerful voice, ‘Get us a pint’.
‘It wasn’t raining when I left,’ grumbled Hannah, despite the big smile on her face.
‘That’s the weather here for you,’ said Sorcha. ‘Come in. Come in. Come in.’
Aidan hooked an arm around her shoulder and dragged her unceremoniously into the large hallway.
‘It’s so good to see you, Hannah,’ said Sorcha, leading the way into a big farmhouse-style kitchen with an Aga built into a large inglenook. It looked as if they were doing very well for themselves, but then Aidan had always been a brilliant lawyer with a serious work ethic. ‘Tea. Builders? Same as always?’ She lifted a mischievous brow and Hannah immediately remembered how the two of them had got through pints of the stuff when they were revising for their finals in the house the three of them had shared. In some ways it seemed like yesterday.
‘Of course.’
As the tea was made they caught up on mutual friends, family, and all the latest news in a rapid three-way conversation with Aidan and Sorcha constantly interrupting each other.
‘Honest, moving back here was the best thing,’ said Aidan.
‘It was. Lovely to be near family.’
‘And we could afford to buy this place.’
‘If we’d realised how easy it was to practice—’
‘All you need is a certificate from the—’
‘It helped that you had a guaranteed job at your da’s practice.’
‘And the experience at Ingrams. I can’t believe you’re still there, Hannah.’
‘I can’t believe you’re here,’ said Sorcha for about the fifth time, patting her wrist. ‘It’s so good to see you.’
‘And you,’ said Hannah. ‘And still sane after working with Aidan for all this time.’
Sorcha rolled her eyes. ‘He’s a trial and no mistake. But not for much longer.’ She gave a sudden grin and patted her stomach.
‘No!’ Hannah’s eyes widened in delight.
‘Yes, another Fitzpatrick blessing the world.’ Sorcha sat back in her chair with a satisfied beam on her face. ‘It’s due next March.’
‘That’s wonderful news. Oh congratulations.’ Hannah felt tears welling up again. Her friends seemed so happy and settled, and for a moment a tiny nudge of envy pushed at her. Not that she was unhappy with her life but there was a difference between contentment and this shining happiness that exuded from both of them.
‘You’re the first we’ve told, so don’t go telling anyone just yet. Oh and look, now I’m crying too.’
‘You do that all the time,’ said Aidan, leaning away from his wife as if well aware that he was risking a poke in the ribs from her.
‘Pregnancy hormones are pure shite,’ said Sorcha with feeling, taking her third chocolate biscuit from the plate in the middle of the table. ‘I had a hard time not crying when one of our clients said she wanted to get a divorce.’
Aidan shook his head in mock despair. ‘And she comes in once a month wanting a divorce. Keeps her husband out of the pub for a couple of weeks.’
‘That’s true. Herself and Kenny love a good fight. And she’s as glad to have him back in the pub most of the time.’
