‘See? I told you she had been to Jamaica!’

The napkin hit him on the face as Sheena emerged from the kitchen with several enormous plates of food. Bernadette insisted they share the lamb curry. She helped him with his tagine, which to his surprise was as delicious as the curry. Sheena sat with them for a little too long over a glass of red wine. When she’d gone, and they were readying to leave, Bernadette spoke.

‘I came to look for you once.’

He sat back down on the chair.

‘When?’

She looked like she wished she’d never said it.

‘Oh, I don’t know. It was about six years after you left. I convinced some unsuspecting girlfriends Newcastle was the centre of the universe for nightlife. They didn’t take much persuading and we went for three days. I heard you were a barrister, so it wasn’t difficult to find you at the courthouse. I checked three different courts before I found the one you were in. I sat in the public gallery, two feet away from you. You looked so different - maybe it was the wig, but you looked so grown up. You never looked up from scribbling and sat behind a really pompous, deep-voiced midget, who liked the sound of his own voice so much he nearly put me to sleep. My heart was nearly bursting through my chest. Six years and I hadn’t even had a boyfriend. I never did quite sleep my way through university. I sat outside the courthouse to wait for you. I plucked up the courage to speak to you, even though I had been told I was never to contact you again. In my head, you were still my Cormac. I waited for an hour, and then you finally came out, walking behind the midget with the deep voice. I started to walk towards you as quickly as my wobbly legs would take me. Then they came around the corner. The little girl got to you first. She was so excited to see you. Then the woman followed. She was tall with dark hair and impossibly long legs. You kissed her and smiled and before I could move, you walked around the corner and disappeared from me again. That was the point, Cormac. That was the point when I had to let you go. I know you let me go a long time before that, but I just couldn’t do it until then. I walked along the quayside as a stranger in the city you’d made your home and I could hardly see where I was going. I was blinded by grief. Grief for what I had lost. For what I could never have again. Now I can sit here with you right in front of me and it feels normal. I feel nothing. It feels right that we can be with each other for this brief moment in time and I can just let it pass. That we can meet as old friends and simply move on.’