At long last I’m excited. I’m sitting in the car with Amy, talking through the last few bits and pieces that have to be done before the wedding and I can feel energy and enthusiasm bursting inside me. Amy does that for me. She’s so excited about the wedding it brushes off on me regardless of my worries. This is going to be a great day. Nothing will get in the way of it.

We discuss the last-minute change that was made to the flowers after seeing the finished bridesmaids’ dresses. Amy reckoned our original choice was too contrasting. We tried to guess who would be wearing what on the day. The fact that it was a winter wedding meant there’d probably be lots of fake fur and woolly dresses. Speeches were discussed and dreaded and we decided on a time for the buffet supper to be dished out. The hotel wanted ten o’clock but Amy told me to stand firm with eleven. Ten was too soon. People wouldn’t be hungry yet, having had their main meal at five.

When we get to the junction at Glasnevin, Amy switches lanes and once again attracts the howling horn of some unsuspecting driver. I’m going to miss this. Amy, her dreadful driving. Her enthusiasm for life even though she invites death more than most.

‘You’re going to have to get real driving lessons, Amy.’

‘Why? I’m doing grand. You’re not dead yet, are ya?’

‘I know, but I don’t want you ending up in a wheelchair and not being able to visit me when I’m sunbathing on the beach with cocktails and champagne next year.’

‘Don’t worry, Tara. It would take a lot more than a wheelchair to stop me visiting. I might even stay for a year.’

‘Really? Are you messing?’

‘No, I thought about it. I might go over for a year. If they’ll have me. Don’t I have to get a visa or something?’

I’m so excited by what Amy is saying I’m forgetting to breathe. It would be like the icing on the cake if I thought she’d come out for a year. I’m nervous about being on my own. I know I have Lucas but it would be so much easier to settle if I thought Amy was going to be there too.

‘Oh my God, Amy, don’t say that and not mean it.’

‘I do mean it. I might even get an Aussie of my own and stay.’

I take a deep breath, close my eyes and relax. Everything is going to be okay. Australia is going to be wonderful, even better than I imagined.

Another car beeps, disturbs my dreaming. Amy lifts her finger and I laugh.

‘Please try and stay alive until you get there, Amy,’ I say, thinking to myself: and I’ll try to stay out of prison.

Chapter Thirty-Four