‘Right! Does everyone want the same again, or shall we try something different?’ Annie waved the cocktail list in front of them.

‘Another copper pineapple for me please, and then when you get back Billie can tell us all about her Treasure!’

_______________________

Imelda was sleeping in the vardo tonight. She had lit the small stove and Mabel was toasting herself on a rug in front of it. Tealights glowed softly in jewel-hued glass jars and cast dancing shadows on the walls and ceiling. The only sounds to break the silence were the crackle of burning logs and a fox barking in a nearby garden. Imelda took a sip from a glass of vodka and turned the skull ring on her middle finger. It was still loose. The silver glinted in the firelight. Imelda had retrieved it from her jewellery box having finally decided to wear it again as Cillian had asked her to. The record sat in its sleeve on her lap. She had nothing to play it on, but she could hear every note in her head and feel the rhythm in her body, nonetheless. She closed her eyes and allowed the memories to engulf her until the past she was seeking was more real than the present she was escaping. She was with Cillian once again.

Chapter 50

Chapter 50

Now

Imelda, Mabel, Esther and Henry were on a grand day out to St Pancras. It was a Thursday and Henry was going to play the piano and then they were going for lunch in The Betjeman. Mabel, who was wearing a pink sequinned bandana around her neck for the occasion, was mesmerised by the views flitting past the window as she sat on Imelda’s lap. The train pulled into Blackfriars and as they passed through glinting glass and over the Thames, its choppy waters flashing in the sunlight, Imelda felt a frisson of excitement. It had been a long time since she’d visited London, and it was a treat to be here with both her oldest and newest friends.

St Pancras was bustling with people travelling here, there and everywhere for Easter. Couples off on the Eurostar for romantic mini-breaks, students heading home from uni with bags of books and dirty laundry, families beginning holidays or crossing the country to visit far-flung relatives, and tourists and day-trippers here for the sights and shopping. Commuters and workers threaded their way through the pleasure-seekers and holidaymakers, marching through the meanderers, purposeful and brisk. This ever-changing peoplescape passing through the station was Henry’s audience, if any of them could be tempted to stop and listen. Henry sat down at the piano with Mabel by his side. Mabel wasn’t very keen on shopping and had made it quite clear that she would prefer to remain with Henry rather than risk being trodden on amongst the crowds. Imelda and Esther stood by the piano waiting for Henry to start.