I tried to follow the river from memory. I started tracing her routes. My heart slowed. This reassured me. But the water had an angry hurry about it, in a tremendous rush to the Atlantic. Things slowed down on a handful of ochre sunshiny days that came late spring and left before summer could take hold. July was usually wet. And rain fell often and heavy. The horse races entice some clowns who take over the place, dressed up, their own theatre for a week, swag and a story, but here’s the thing about escaping, you must take yourself along. Mostly the waterways remained angry, desperately seeking some attention, often sucking in people, their dreams and sadness.

Past the cathedral, the river moves along, into ‘town’ and by the Spanish Arch, built to protect the city’s quays, and where the old Fish Market used to stand, which stretches prettily down by the Long Walk, bright with duck-egg palates, lemons, magentas, swans, rowing boats. Tourist selfies. Bushing. The cranes have disappeared. It’s all pop-up fooderies, pizza places, falafel spots, Mexican street food, craft beers, wine bars, high rents. Eventually turning back, towards the docks with its murky waters, the pastel colours and glass of the newer buildings of the Tiger decade.

‘Karolina is so tired and so sick,’ Michal said, abruptly. ‘She ’ees so cross to me, and I am trying, y’know? I really am. But shifts are so very long. She ees not able to get up for work today. I tell her about you, about you and your children. About what happens to you? Think she care, think she care about you or me? NO. I tell her she is a selfish woman. And she laughs. She laughs at me.’

Michal was loose with information about his pregnant wife, Karolina Piwaska, who worked on the deli counter in the small grocery shop across the road from Hospital, spending long hours on her feet, stale coleslaw, hot chicken rolls, ciggies, balloons, cards. Happy New Baby, Happy New Man, Happy New House, Happy Old House, Happy Driving Test, Happy Valentines, Happy Happy Happy.

She enjoyed trying to perfect her accent at work, and he helped her also, for he had more time to learn the nuances, Hospital was full of different people he said and for that reason, he considered himself a linguist of sorts; customers come and go, patients stay longer time, good for learning. Yes. Good for learning. Galway vowels could be suddenly very sharp, high-pitched and pushed fast down your nose. Hiya, loveen. And all the nuances that took time. City. County. West. East. Mighty. Shir. Craic. How-ew-ya? Terrible. Jusht. Musha. Arra. Michaleen. Sthap. The city kids were the most difficult, he said, the speed of chat. Just the speed of talk, the speed of youth.

Byebyebyebyebyebyeslánslánslánslánslán.

Karolina had made some good friends who worked shifts beside her, splodging fried eggs into baps, toasting BLTs for teary Hospital visitors, and making one-filling sandwiches for the kids putting themselves through college. ‘Karolina loves questions …’ he said. So did he. Michal could disarm you with questions, while reaching over with the coffee. ‘So … you having scan this morning?’ Michal said, arching an eyebrow.