‘Oh, for God’s sake, could you just not, for one time in your life?’ I snapped, although the full force of my attack was somewhat muted by the fact my teeth were chattering and therefore the words came out in a far more stuttered manner than I’d hoped for. Lorcan strode towards me and took my arm, which I immediately, and unsuccessfully, tried to snatch back as he folded his long legs and crouched before me.

‘What are you—?’

‘You’re bleeding.’

‘I’m not. I’m just… Oh! Oh, bloody hell.’

‘Oh, my dear!’ Brighid bustled in, coming to a halt at the sight of me standing dripping, chattering and apparently bleeding from the gash on my leg all over her floor.

‘I’m so sorry. I’m making a mess.’

‘Don’t be daft. Sure you’ll freeze to death if you don’t get out of those clothes. Whatever happened?’

‘I… tripped.’

‘That bloody huge pothole down the road, I bet? Why on earth didn’t you drive her, Lorcan? What were you thinking?’

He opened his mouth, looked over the landlady’s head at me and appeared to change his mind. ‘She’s cut her leg too.’

‘You have?’ Brighid bent, hands on thighs, and took a look. ‘Oh, Lord. That’s going to need stitches. Right. Lorcan, you call Frank and in the meantime we’ll get her warmed up.’

‘I’m sure just a plaster will be fine.’

‘I’ve had five children, my dear, and if I say it’s going to need stitches, it’s going to need stitches. Now, up you go.’

* * *

‘Oh dear, now that’s going to need stitches,’ Frank McGinty, the local doctor, confirmed a short time later when I was clean, warm and nursing a hot whiskey between my hands. ‘Do you want to pop down to the surgery and we can get it done?’

I looked at the whiskey.

‘Knock it back, woman. You’re in Ireland now,’ Lorcan said.

I glared at him. I could see him waiting for me to tackle the glass, knowing I wouldn’t. Something else he’d be right about. I wasn’t a whiskey drinker. But I wasn’t a quitter either. I downed it in one and, for a minute, lost the ability to speak entirely.

‘That’s more like it.’ He grinned. Rising from his chair, he hooked one of my arms around his shoulders and hoisted me up.

‘I can walk on my own.’

‘You can, but you’re going to bleed all over Brighid’s clean floor.’

‘Oh, Brighid, I’m so sorry. I’ll pay, obviously…’ I wasn’t sure with what. Until I got paid for this job, things were squeakily tight already.