‘Maybe you don’t see it now, but you are so special, and being a teacher at Holy Trinity doesn’t define you – in fact I didn’t like to say it to you before, but you’re so much more than that place,’ she continues. ‘You’re deeper than the people associated with places like that, you’ve got more soul.’

‘Ah, thanks Soph. That’s nice to hear.’

‘Believe me,’ she continues. ‘I’ve known Jack Malone for a very long time now and he doesn’t suffer fools. He never did. Everyone who meets him salivates when he walks into a room and yet he only has eyes for you, Charlotte. You’ll get your mojo back, babe. Give your head a break and hopefully you’ll see the bright side again soon.’

Sophie is right but I wish it was easier to get my head out of this tangled mess I’m in. I know I need to switch off, or at least control the noise that’s battering me from inside, to calm the claws that are dragging me down, telling me I’m just a girl from Loughisland who doesn’t deserve to be here in Ardara with a handsome husband who I adore.

The words in my head whisper that I don’t deserve Jack Malone and the beautiful life we have together. A part of me still dreams of a life on the road making music like I could have with Tom, even though I know nothing now about him. All this confusion makes me worry that someday, very soon, I’ll mess all I have up in style and then I’ll lose Jack too.

‘I hope my mojo comes back to me soon,’ I whisper.

Sophie reaches across and takes my hand, swinging it slowly and closing her eyes. Maybe she is having a mid-life crisis? Maybe we both are. Can you have a mid-life crisis at the age of almost thirty-one?

‘You’re going to be fine,’ she tells me. ‘You’ve got a great team around you, everyone loves you. This is just a phase.’

‘Or a phrase, as my aunt Bridie calls it,’ I laugh lightly. ‘She always gets her words so terribly mixed up and it used to get on my nerves, but now it’s just funny. She once told my mam she had Matthew up on a peddle stool.’

Sophie laughs her head off. ‘A peddle stool!’ she repeats. ‘Oh I’d love to see her again, dear old aunt Bridie. She was such fun at your engagement party. You do make me laugh with your stories, Charlotte. Don’t ever lose that spark. I’d miss it terribly if you did.’