And there he was, in his full height, lit by the sun behind him. She had to still her beating heart and order herself to calm down.
‘I mean,’ she went on, ‘I’ve got a good grip of my cup. Not that I thought you would come again. I wasn’t expecting you or anything…’
‘You don’t mind if I disturb your tranquillity, then?’ He was smiling down at her.
‘Not at all.’ Had he taken the chance that he would see her again? And then she remembered what room he was in, with the perfect view over this part of the garden. Oh, so this wasn’t an accident. She glowed from the inside.
‘May I?’ He hovered by the end of the bench.
‘Of course. How’s the jet lag?’
He sat down, slightly angled to face her. ‘It’s a killer. How are Isabelle and Killian?’
‘So itwasyou who tucked them up.’ She looked at him, amazed. ‘Laurence was meant to be bringing them home but he seems to have forced himself on you all. I hope he’s not annoying everyone?’
Patrick hesitated, as though not knowing what to say. ‘The children are lovely.’ He smiled. ‘You’re lucky to have them. Or they’re lucky to have you.’
She nodded. ‘I don’t spend as much time as I would like with them. They’re busy with school, I’m rushing about here. I see them most days, I suppose. But it’s nice to hand them back.’
Patrick looked confused. ‘To Laurence?’
‘I suppose. But mainly Nessa. Is he annoying you all?’
‘He’s definitely the life and soul of the party…’
‘Yeah, I suppose… depends what kind of parties you like. Honestly, I can ask Nessa to tell him to stay away.’
‘Nessa… your sister Nessa?’
Rosie nodded. ‘She’s responsible for Laurence, not me.’
Patrick’s face clicked through a selection of expressions and then suddenly laughed. ‘She’s married to Laurence? Nessa is the twins’ mother?’
‘Yes…’ Rosie began laughing at the incongruity of it all. ‘Wait. You didn’t…? I mean, surely you couldn’t…?’
‘When you said you barely see them, I was horrified.’ He was still smiling.
‘Me and Laurence? Honestly, Patrick. What do you take me for?’ She laughed.
‘I couldn’t work it out!’ He was laughing too. ‘I wouldn’t have put the two of you together at all. And I know, I don’t know you well enough… well, not for a long time, but still. You with Laurence? It didn’t seem right. And then last night, I was walking back to my room and the children were in the lounge…’
‘Laurence was meant to get them home by 9p.m.’
‘Well, he was too busy throwing pints down his neck and singing. I was going to find you, but I thought that was interfering and that you’d hate me…’
‘I could never hate you.’
He looked at her. ‘Just a bit?’
‘Okay. Just a bit.’ She smiled at him.
He smiled back at her exactly the way he used to, a mix of devilment, merriment and something else. Pure, driven sexiness. Rosie wished so desperately that everything was different, and there wasn’t this gulf of time and space between them and they’d taken the same path together.
‘I was taking a breather. There are only so many times you can listen to “The Irish Rover”.’
‘I think it might be practically the only song Laurence knows. That and “The Fields of Athenry”. He had to learn it when he was a child and for some reason had been entered into a Féis.’
‘I was once in a Féis. Had to recite a poem. Some Seamus Heaney…’
