‘Peyton rang the venue to ask something when she couldn’t get hold of the planner one day. They had no booking for their wedding. Cue a bridal meltdown as Patrick rang more of the providers and got the same response.’

‘That’s awful!’

‘Yeah, it wasn’t great. The poor girl had her heart set on this country house in Dublin that goes all out for weddings.’

‘And, of course, they then had no availability.’

‘Not for the next two years.’

Our conversation was interrupted by Brighid bringing me my breakfast and a huge pot of tea.

‘Oh, wow! That looks incredible. Thank you so much!’

‘Ah, you’re more than welcome. I’ve brought a cup for you too, Lorcan. Did you want anything to eat?’

‘No, thanks, Brighid, I’m grand.’

‘I’ll leave you two to it, then. Enjoy.’

11

‘Thank you,’ I called as she bustled off back towards the kitchen before turning wide eyes on Lorcan. ‘Oh my God, this is huge!’ I whispered, picking up my cutlery but not knowing where to start. Thankfully there was no black pudding, but there were fried eggs, bacon done just to the perfect point of crispiness, sausages, beans, fried bread, mushrooms, fried tomatoes and a couple of things I wasn’t sure of.

‘Is this some sort of pancake?’

‘Potato farl. Delicious.’

‘And this?’

‘White pudding.’

‘White pudding?’

‘Yeah. Like black pudding but better for the more squeamish amongst us. No blood.’

I looked back down at my plate.

‘Try it.’

I remained unconvinced. ‘Maybe in a bit. How on earth am I going to eat all this?’

‘I can give you a hand with this,’ he said, reaching over and swiping a piece of fried bread. I bit into the other piece so he couldn’t nick that one. It tasted heavenly.

‘Oh God,’ I said, my hand over my full mouth.

The mischievous blue eyes sparkled. ‘Good, eh?’

‘So good,’ I said, feeling the delight spread across my face.

‘That’ll be the butter.’

‘Hmm?’ I asked as I reloaded my fork.

‘The butter. None of that olive or sunflower oil around here. Good old Irish butter it’s fried in. You can’t beat it.’

I swallowed my mouthful. ‘I think I can hear my arteries revolting as we speak.’

‘Nah, they’ll be loving it, and, if not, you’ll die well fed at least.’

I flicked a glance at him. ‘One way to look at it, I suppose.’

‘The only way to look at it. You have to enjoy life.’

‘Yes, but you can’t enjoy one of these every day otherwise it will be a short one.’

‘Fair enough. But you can’t beat it on a lazy Sunday morning.’

‘I will agree with that.’ Having tasted Brighid’s cooking, it was hard not to. ‘However, this is neither Sunday nor going to be lazy.’