‘Can’t go wrong with Seamus.’
‘“If we winter this one out, we can summer anywhere”…’ He looked at her. ‘Something like that.’
‘Did you get a medal?’
‘No… I was robbed. I think highly commended or good effort. My days of reciting were short-lived.’ He paused, looking at her for a moment. ‘The wedding is going well, you’ll be glad to know. The barbecue on the beach was a triumph.’ There was that look again.
She laughed again. ‘I have never operated a barbecue before and nor will I attempt to operate one ever again.’
‘The rain was a nice touch. Thanks for laying it on.’
‘There are no lengths to which we will not go.’ She had forgotten how nice it was to make him laugh.
‘And then you being hit by who I thought was your husband and he acted like he didn’t care.’
‘I don’t think he even noticed!’
‘Why did your sister marry him?’
‘My aunt Lucinda set them up. She was friends with his parents and decided that he would be good for Nessa. Which he is, kind of. They have more in common than I would have with him.’
‘Your aunt Lucinda loves meddling, doesn’t she?’
‘I suppose. I take what she says with a pinch of salt. She’s given up on me, though, thankfully. Although I don’t think she ever tried it with me. Nessa was always far more receptive.’
Patrick didn’t say anything.
‘And you? Are you seeing anyone?’ She asked the question so carelessly that you would almost imagine that she didn’t mind what the answer was.
He shrugged. ‘No one serious.’
She wondered if it was true and if he was just saying it to save her feelings. Perhaps he had fallen in love a hundred times since her. But there was a look in his eyes, a softness, a directness, that made her feel as though he was telling the truth. They looked at each other, the silence long enough to hear the sounds of the birds and the bees.
‘Well, I’d better go and have a shower and then prepare for another day of fun.’
They looked at each other for a moment and then Rosie put on her biggest smile. ‘And I’d better get to work.’
27
ROSIE
Everything in the breakfast room was perfect. It was important everything in the wedding went brilliantly for today and tomorrow.
Kate, the bride’s best friend, was in smart slim jeans with leather sandals, a crisp white shirt, looking elegant. She was tanned, her hair glossy, her teeth white. She looked Rosie up and down, as though she had noticed Rosie wasn’t in her navy suit and had put on a clean pair of smart shorts and a striped blouse. Or perhaps it was something else.
‘I’d like a large table,’ Kate said. ‘Niamh and Seán will be down soon. And I told Patrick I’d keep a place for him.’ She shot another look at Rosie. ‘Now, a pot of green tea for me. And do you have any avocados and a fruit salad?’
Rosie was about to answer when Bertie swooped in. ‘Ah, good morning, Kate. Now, I have the perfect table close to the doors so you can have some fresh air or I have another lovely table in a quieter part of the room. Didn’t you have the full Irish yesterday? Same again? Wasn’t it two rashers and two sausages and a poached egg? I never forget an order. Brown toast on the side and extra butter. Am I right? Now, you sit down there and I’ll bring you over some papers and a pot of coffee…’
‘Green tea,’ said Kate weakly, allowing herself to be ushered away, and then in a loud whisper, ‘Do you have any paracetamol? Alka-Seltzer?’
‘Of course we do,’ Bertie said discreetly. ‘And I also have my own recipe, my grandmother’s cure-all. I’ll bring it over.’
Kate sank weakly into her seat, slipping on her dark glasses and picking up her phone.
Another guest went to join Kate at her table, she said, ‘Oh, I’m keeping it for Patrick. He’ll be down soon.’
Rosie tried not to care.
