‘John would love to hear that story,’ Ruth assured me. ‘It’s actually one of my favourites, I’m only sorry I wasn’t around at the time to see it.’
‘And you wonder why I’m not letting you anywhere near him?’
‘Ah, we are only teasing,’ Clara said. ‘We wouldn’t really tell him. Much.’
The restaurant was emptying. It was getting late, but we had no inclination to move.
‘Any word from Rob?’ Katie asked.
‘Not a dicky bird,’ I said.
‘No news is good news,’ Clara said.
My shoulders tensed at the mention of Rob.
‘Did you hear that Take That are doing a reunion tour?’ Ruth said, with a shrewd glance in my direction.
‘Oh my goodness! We need to get tickets!’ Katie latched on to this information immediately and I breathed a sigh of relief at the change in conversation.
Ruth was always so good at sensing my moods and rescuing me. Despite this, the devil had returned to his position on my shoulder, tormenting me with the same line.
I didn’t deserve to be happy.
It wouldn’t end well.
You reap what you sow.
Chapter Eighteen
SATURDAY 22ND SEPTEMBER
In certain places, Dublin reminded me of Edinburgh. The narrow, cobbled streets extending like tiny branches from an old oak tree. The gothic architecture and historic monuments seemed familiar, as did the carefully manicured gardens of St. Stephens Green. They reminded me of Princes Street Gardens.
An all too familiar sight was the many tragic homeless people, camping out in ragged blankets, holding cardboard signs begging for enough change for a hot drink or a bite to eat.
It broke my heart to see them that way. I wanted to bring them home with me and cook them a good meal.
Instead, I handed over what little change I had and felt as guilty as sin for being as lucky as I was.
It rapidly put life into perspective as I clung to John’s arm.
‘What are you thinking?’ he asked.
‘Just how lucky we are.’ I tightened my grip on his arm again as we passed the eighth person lying in a rotten tattered sleeping bag with a starved, but loyal, mongrel by his side, huddling for warmth from the damp autumn chill.
The orange leaves littered the cold wet ground and dark thunder clouds hovered threatening from above. The weathermatched my mood, despite being with my favourite person in the whole wide world.
‘I know. I often think the same.’ He clasped his hand over mine.
‘Whatever problems I’ve had this year are minor in comparison.’
‘You’ve a good heart, girl.’ His blue eyes bore into mine.
‘I doubt my ex-husband would agree with you there, but that’s another story.’ I’d intended it to be a joke but I couldn’t muster a smile.
‘Well, he should have appreciated you when he had the chance. The man’s a fool, thankfully. Or you wouldn’t be here now. Now, Miss Morbid Pants, let’s go for a drink and try to enjoy the weekend. We won’t solve the problems of the world today, let’s enjoy each other’s company while we can. As wonderful as you look on FaceTime, I prefer you in the flesh.’
‘You’re right. I’m sorry.’ I attempted to pull myself together, even though the lingering guilt of being so happy continued to tarnish my mood.
