“Sounds like you’re imagining a scene from that murder-mystery series. What’s the one set in that little village and everyone gets murdered by pitchforks.”
I sit up straight. “Midsomer Murders!”
“That’s the one!” He exclaims, looking thrilled. “Inspector Barnaby.”
“What a show. I always wondered why people lived in Midsomer, though.”
“So many murders,” he says, nodding.
“So many!”
“The price they’ll pay for those picturesque cottages and the charming countryside lifestyle. I don’t think I need to worry about my parents being attacked by people with pitchforks, though. They get on well with their neighbors, a notion baffling to us Londoners.”
“Actually, I’m on good terms with my neighbors, so don’t blame that on London. There’s a couple of drama students who live next door to me, who always say hello when we see each other, and then above me is a very nice man called Tommy and his little boy, Jaxon.”
“You even know their names. That is impressive. Have you moved since the breakup?”
“No. Matthew moved out. I didn’t see the need to find somewhere new.”
I glance out the window and notice the rain has passed and the sun is breaking through the clouds again. The view really is brilliant across the city. Jamie follows my lead and turns his attention to the window, too, the both of us staring out across Dublin.
“Are you, by any chance, hungry?” Jamie asks.
“Starving. Shall we grab some food?”
“Yes,” he says, downing the last of his pint.
“Let me google a good place to go.”
“Or we could just wander around and see what we fancy,” he suggests, as I start typing into the search engine.
“But then we could be walking around for ages.”
“Better than trawling through a list of restaurants for ages.Come on, it’s more fun this way,” he claims, getting to his feet and flashing me a grin. “You never know where you’re going to end up.”
I don’t know how, but it’s nearing midnight and we’re in a pub in a buzzing area called Temple Bar, listening to a live band, and my jaw aches from laughing.
That’s not just Jamie’s doing—although he has made me laugh a lot today—because we’ve joined some of the wedding party, whom we bumped into as we came in and who gave a big cheer when they saw Jamie.
Apparently, he’s quite popular among this crowd, something that became clear on the sten in Leeds. I’ve done well to make friends with him, because, by association, I’m now being included in conversations and don’t feel like an outsider anymore. The band in this bar isbrilliant,playing “lively, foot-stomping classics” all night, as Jamie put it, which I obviously teased him about. It has been such a fun day and I’ve completely fallen in love with Dublin.
“Are you Niamh’s school friend?” a guy called Harry yells over the music to me as Jamie passes me a drink.
“Yes!”
“I remember her saying she’s got two of her best school friends coming!”
“Yes, me and Isabelle.”
“Are you the one who’s just got married?”
“No, that’s Isabelle. I’m the one who got jilted at the altar.”
He stares wide-eyed at me in panic.
“Well, technically, it wasn’t the altar,” I elaborate for no reason whatsoever. “It was the day before. He jilted me the day before the wedding. In a cupboard.”
Harry’s eyes are darting about as I speak, no idea how to react.Jamie is standing next to me attempting to suppress a laugh. I lean in toward him.
