‘Bernadette.’

‘What?’

They made their way into the central atrium of the prison.

‘Thanks for today. I know it is more than I deserve. I let you down more than any other person in the world and that is unforgivable. You of all people! The person I….’

She put her finger to his lips.

‘Please, Cormac. It’s all ancient history. Let’s just enjoy our day together. I am not really interested in going back there. I … we’ve both come a long way since then. Too far to ever go back. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving and I’d really like to get out of this prison if that’s all right with you.’

After another ten-minute ride on the bus, they were seated by the window of a little ethnic café she insisted they visit, in a side street off Grafton Street. Cormac scanned the menu, which was all hummus, couscous, and vegetable tagines. His appetite had already left him by the time the dreadlocked forty-something waitress arrived at the table.

‘Hi Bernie, I haven’t seen you in ages.’

Probably been no protest marches in ages.

‘No, I’ve been really busy with work and my writing. How have you been keeping?’

She pulled up a chair next to Bernadette.

‘I’m keeping the very best and John has been on at me for ages to organise something for you. You know, before….’

Bernadette cut across her.

‘Sorry, Sheena, this is an old friend of mine, Cormac O’ Reilly. He’s only here for the day and I thought he couldn’t visit Dublin without sampling the best cooking the city has to offer.’

If you’re a lesbian, vegetarian, serial political protester!

‘I’m sorry Cormac, I was so busy gassing there I forgot my manners. I’m Sheena McGoldrick, part-time chef, part-time actress, and part-time wife when there’s a handsome young man such as you in my restaurant! Or has this dark-haired temptress already snared you?’

He felt uncomfortable with the sentiment. He looked for guidance from Bernadette, who was also looking uneasy with where the conversation had gone.

‘Sheena McGoldrick, you old floozy, leave the man alone, can’t you see he is embarrassed? Anyway, I’ll tell your John on you if you don’t hurry up and take our orders!’

Sheena sighed theatrically and stood up at the table.

‘What a shame, Cormac. I was thinking if I could get you into a jacket that fits, a hair cut from this century, and knock a few pounds off, you could have taken me nicely into my old age. Ah well … c’est la vie, my young lover, c’est la vie!’

She removed the back of her hand from her forehead, winked at him, and produced a pencil from the depths of her blonde dreadlocks.

‘Now, what’s your pleasure Cormac?’

Without much enthusiasm he settled for some hummus and warm pitta bread followed by a vegetable tagine and couscous, all washed down with a carrot and orange juice.

When did Bernadette get into this stuff? What is so wrong with a nice red and a fillet steak?