I wasn’t expecting this. I’m in Paris, not with the man I thought I’d be here with, and I’ve just been proposed to, but not by the man I’d dreamed of hearing those words from one day. A collage of images flash through my head, a bit like how they say your life flashes in front of you. Suddenly I’m at the sink in my student house again, Tom Farley walks past me, then we are singing together so intensely, we’re out the back of Pip’s Bar, we’re holding hands in the snow, he takes the snowflake from my face, I’m in Howth wearing his T-shirt, I’m driving back to Loughisland, I’m in the bar with Matthew, I’m in the flurry of snow outside, I’m shouting at Matthew, I’m in the hospital corridor.

I’ve got to let this go.

‘Yes!’ I say to Jack, and the entire restaurant bursts into a round of applause, while Jack and I burst into tears. ‘Yes, I’ll marry you!’

I put my arms around him, and he kisses me with delight and relief. I am relieved, too, and inside I hope that by making this decision, by being Jack’s future wife, it will make me realize that this life, this perfectly beautiful life with Jack Malone, is exactly where I’m meant to be right now. I hear Sophie’s words of wisdom. Just because things could have worked out differently, doesn’t mean they’d have been better.

I don’t think I’ll ever get any better than this.

Chapter Ten

Dublin, April 2017

Marjorie and Jack Malone Sr arrive fashionably late to our door in Merrion Square armed with air kisses, fancy drinks with names I can’t pronounce and a hamper of goodies from the very upmarket Brown Thomas department store that probably cost the same as a week’s rent on our apartment.

‘It’s so good to finally meet you, Charlotte, darling!’ says Marjorie with a majestic hug in a generous whiff of Dior. ‘And on such a wonderful occasion, too! We’ve sent an announcement to The Times and it should be featured any day soon, isn’t that right, Dad?’

I suppose calling her husband ‘Dad’ is easier than saying Jack Jr and Jack Sr when both men are in the same room …

‘The Times?’ says my mother, who is keen as mustard for an introduction to her new extended family. ‘We’ll have to buy it then. Paddy normally reads only the farming sections of the papers so it’s hardly worth our while getting them half the time. I’m Mary, Charlotte’s mother. I’m so very pleased to meet you, Mrs Malone.’