‘No secrets in this town.’ The more other people talked about us, the less we’d have to tell them ourselves, I concluded.
‘We’ll get dinner organised the next time you are over,’ Jane promised as she pulled her coat on and slipped out the front door back to the police car.
‘I’ll look forward to it,’ I called after her.
‘She’s so lovely,’ I said, as he closed the front door.
‘I knew you’d get on. You have too much in common not to. She’s a really decent girl. But don’t cross her in that uniform by all accounts.’
‘Don’t think I don’t know exactly what you’re up to, Mr Kelly,’ I chastised him, gently smacking his backside.
‘What?’ He feigned total innocence, but a mischievous glint in those blue eyes gave him away.
‘Making sure I have a solid support network this side of the water in order to entice me to move over. Dangling the carrot in front of the donkey! I know your game.’
‘Happy anniversary by the way.’ He brushed a stray crumb from my lips and kissed me.
‘Of course, how could I forget? The twenty-ninth! Happy anniversary. Can you believe it’s only been three months since we met?’ Worryingly, I couldn’t imagine my life without him in it.
‘Should I be expecting the p45?’ I joked.
‘Nope. You’re stuck with me. And now you’re officially the longest relationship I’ve ever had.’
I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to be delighted with his last statement, or concerned.
Chapter Twenty-One
THURSDAY 4TH OCTOBER
I sometimes met my mother in Southampton after work. Westquay shopping centre was open until eight and we liked to look around the shops before going to our usual Italian restaurant on the harbour.
‘How are you, sweetheart?’ She leant over the red and white chequered table mat, squinting in an attempt to analyse me. I’d forgotten I was supposed to be grieving a broken marriage, when in fact it was relief I felt, tinged only by a little guilt over my newfound happiness.
‘I’m good, Mum, honestly. Please don’t worry about me. I’m fine.’ I pushed my lasagne around my plate.
I was nervous in the knowledge it was high time I told her about John. It had gone so far; I didn’t know exactly how to broach it. I hadn’t wanted to tell her prematurely and give her another thing to worry about. One bombshell at a time was quite enough. She wouldn’t thank me if she incurred any additional wrinkles on my behalf.
‘I can’t help but worry. You’ll know yourself one day. I hope.’ She always said that to me, but until recently I knew there was no chancing of me understanding what it felt like to worryabout your own flesh and blood, but the future seemed full of possibilities again.
I chewed a mouth full of garlic bread and decided to just brave it.
‘You never asked me if I met somebody else,’ I whispered, conscious of the diners either side of us.
Her head snapped up from her food so quickly I almost laughed. She looked at me silently for a second before the obvious reply. ‘Well? Did you?’
I nodded, letting her digest this unexpected piece of information for a moment. She took a sip of her glass of red wine before pleading, ‘First, please tell me he doesn’t have any children, and second, tell me he lives nearby.’
‘One out of two isn’t bad?’ I brushed an imaginary fleck of dust off my navy blazer to take the attention from my face, feeling the blush creep into my cheeks.
She put her fork down and stared at me, waiting for me to spill the beans.
‘He doesn’t have any children,’ I confirmed. Well, not that I was aware of.
‘So, where does he live?’ My mum had only just got me back to England, after seven years in Scotland. She was going to be unimpressed with my next statement.
‘He lives in Ireland.’
‘Ireland?’ Widening eyes stared at me like I’d gone mad.
