‘So,’ went on Kerry-Anne, ‘you’re back where you started. She won’t move, and you won’t stay.’
‘I can’t. Give up everything?’
‘For love?’
‘But if she won’t even consider it, then why should I? I would need her to give me something. And it would mean giving up Fitzgerald’s, everything I have built the last ten years, everything we’ve done.’
Kerry-Anne didn’t say anything for a moment.
‘I think you’re right,’ she said, gently. ‘I think you need more. You needed to come to Boston, you needed to be your own man, to build yourself up and make yourself anew. From what I know of you, this was important to you.’
‘Essential,’ he said.
‘Then you did the right thing and you’re doing the right thing now. I’m team Patrick, all the way.’
‘I need to just get back to Boston and move on. I think seeing her again after all these years and a family wedding, I’ve just been a bit emotional…’
‘You? Emotional?’ Kerry-Anne seemed amused again. ‘I thought you didn’t do emotion?’
‘So did I.’ Patrick smiled ruefully back at her.
He was fully and utterly aware he still hadn’t given Kerry-Anne his answer about the baby and it was clear that it was the whole reason why she’d stopped in to Dublin, on her way back to Boston. She couldn’t wait.
But, typically, she patiently let him prattle on. He told her about his father and Sandra and how angry he was with him. He spoke about how much he missed his mother and how being in Ireland was both confronting and comforting. She listened, taking it all in, her face frowning with concentration. They were now walking close to the beach, past a late-night jogger running along the seafront, a couple with their dog, a trio of girls giggling after a night in the pub.
They walked towards the village, which was perfectly still, not a soul about, just a light above the door of the Sandycove Arms hotel. They sat on a bench outside Murphy’s where he’d bought his sandwich. Was that only this morning? He could barely remember.
‘Oh, Patrick, you poor thing.’ Kerry-Anne patted his leg. ‘You are a lovely human being. But I think you’ve been through what is known in my family as the wedding wringer. At every family wedding, we all go through some kind of experience, things happen, things are said, people fall out, fall in, truths are told. They are likeA Midsummer Night’s Dream, when we are open to all sorts of things that normally we’re able to keep at bay. Am I right? Have you been through the wedding wringer?’
He nodded. ‘I think I might have.’
‘Look, I’m sorry for landing down on top of you all,’ she said. ‘But, you know, I was so close. My plane was going to be flying over Dublin and I thought a night in Ireland, what’s not to like? And anyway…’ She paused and there was a vulnerability there, the way she held her jaw and kept her voice light, as though there was absolutely nothing wrong, except this one burning question. ‘Tell me, have you thought any more about my indecent proposal?’
‘Oh, Kerry-Anne…’
‘It’s a no, isn’t it?’
He nodded. ‘I’m sorry. If you only knew how much I wish I could. I mean, perhaps I would if…’ He stopped. ‘If everything was different. I like you too much. We’re friends and you mean the world to me. Can’t we always be friends, forever? Can’t we always be in each other’s lives? But I don’t want to have a child this way.’
Kerry-Anne was silent for a moment. ‘Well, thank you for being honest with me. I appreciate your frankness. I always have. The thing about you, Patrick Power, is that you’re not a bullshitter. It makes you very attractive, let me tell you. I am so done with all the crap I get from men all the time. You’re different. But I don’t want to lose our friendship, either.’ She laughed for a moment. ‘Thank you for even allowing me to make such a proposal. It’s not easy when you’re my age and you want a baby, and you don’t just want anyone to be the father.’
‘I’ll be a kind of uncle to them,’ said Patrick.
‘Godfather, how about that?’
‘Would you like to come to the wedding tomorrow as my guest? You can’t miss an Irish wedding. We’re famous for them.’
She shook her head. ‘I’ve already set up a few appointments for the afternoon. There are a few things I need. And anyway I don’t know if I could keep up with your lot. But look, there are other things we need to discuss. We can talk about them on the plane home to Boston. Mortimer wants to expand our investment and suggested an Irish pub… you know, music, oysters, that kind of thing.’
‘No way.’ Patrick laughed. ‘There is only one kind of Irish pub and that’s a pub in Ireland. You can’t recreate them. I’ll bring you to a real one tomorrow, if you like, before you go home. Why don’t I show you around? And I’ll bring you swimming, and then lunch and a pint in the pub in the village? The wedding doesn’t start until 2p.m.’ He smiled at her. ‘Is that a deal? You’ve got to see a bit of Ireland before you go.’
‘I’d be honoured.’ She smiled at him.
‘You know what I need?’
‘What?’
‘A dog.’
