I lean in closer now to the mirror and I use my right Lycra elbow to rub my breath mark away. There is a faint squeak. I wonder if Jenny will be having dinner with us before she goes to meet Simon, I presume she will be, and I mentally count her in for the smoked salmon. I start to trim my beard, carefully at first and then with a touch more abandon and then I’m pretty much hacking away at it. I cut a bit too close at my chin and I worry that this might be a problem when I begin to close shave. I take out my razor and I finish the job off. Apart from the red tender area of my chin the rest of my face is there all right. It’s as if my personality has changed. I have gone from a bearded individual to a soft man. I touch my face. I think of the seal that I often see in the water at Killiney. I am not an old man yet and yet I like reassurances.

I wash the sink, pushing any small trimmings of hair down the plughole with my fingers. I breathe the soft fumes of splattered urine on the bathroom floor. I open the window and the welcome air comes inside and with it comes a positivity.

I go downstairs and I walk over to Jenny to say goodbye. She asks me if I haven’t gone yet.

I close the door and it is all behind me now. I wave goodbye to the kids on the green. Mikey sees me and smiles, my heart is uplifted. I set my machine to zero. My new contraption to count my strides. It fits neatly into a small pocket of the arm of my new top.

This is a small blessing.

16. Slap

June 1996

Cold as a stone fresh from the sea. Cold feet, flip-flops, cold on the balls of feet. Lingering cold, smooth press silken finish on the stone.

We were on Killiney beach and it was one of those rare humid days that you felt inclined to take immediate advantage of, and the mist that accompanied the humidity only served to further your anticipation that it would pan out to be a good day.

She wore a deep red comb decorated with black lace in her hair. A black flower in the centre set it off. You could tell that the weather was getting better in the main because there were more empty beer cans strewn about the bin at the end of the ramp. Jenny bit her thumbnail, then grazed slowly on her other fingernails. I asked her to stop, that she would ruin them.

She continued chewing her nails. I mentioned that I might have to purchase that dreadful substance that my mother made me lash on my nails when I was a kid. The taste was something that I couldn’t forget.