Dermot seemed to fill her every waking thought, even when she was concentrating on something quite different, and knowing that she might never see him again was intensely painful. But less painful, she decided, than seeing him while knowing he would never be hers. And she wouldn’t turn the clock back: the pain she was now going through regarding Dermot was worth it. She truly believed she was happier to have known Dermot and be left with possibly a lifetime of heartbreak, than to be living a more contented life without the memories of that mad, ecstatic time.

‘It was great,’ said Monica, also pensive. ‘For both of us. I’m just sorry it hasn’t—’

‘It’s OK. It wasn’t destined to “work out”.’ She chuckled. ‘Can you really see me married to a great literary lion like Dermot? Nor can I!’

Monica said something with her head turned away which sounded a bit like, ‘I can, actually.’

Laura ignored this.

‘You know,’ said Monica, sounding tired and not just because they’d been travelling for what felt like hours. ‘I always thought those jokes about Irishmen saying, “You can’t get there from here” were just jokes! But they’re horribly real!’

‘We’re here now, thanks to Gerald. Our call to him got us back on the right road. It’s just a matter of finding the house, which shouldn’t be too difficult.’

‘I hope to God this house of yours has the electrics done, or I’m checking in to the nearest hotel. And taking you with me.’

The house definitely had had its electrics done, as all the lights were on when they finally found it and pulled up outside. The door opened and Gerald stood there to welcome them.

‘Hello! How was your journey? I wanted to be here when you arrived, to make sure everything was all right. Besides, Cara – that’s my wife – insisted. Said it was only fair.’

Warmed by his concern, Laura kissed his cheek and introduced Monica. ‘She came with me—’

‘Just to see she wasn’t living in a sheep pen or something,’ Monica finished for her with a smile.

‘It’s not that bad although there are some floors still up and the kitchen’s not finished yet,’ said Gerald. ‘Come in while I bring your bags. When you’re a bit settled, we’ll go out for dinner.’

‘Well,’ said Monica some hours later, when they were back in the house, ‘I think you’ve fallen on your feet here. And Gerald is sweet! Imagine! Coming all the way from Dublin when he could have just left the key with a neighbour and let you sort yourself out!’