‘As if,’ Maisie whispered. ‘What kind of woman do you take me for?’

‘A woman who hasn’t been laid since the boy they called Jesus made a frigging sandcastle. Maisie, take it from me – life is too short.’

‘You have angina. You’re not dying.’

‘Easy for you to say. When are you seeing him again?’

‘Whispering is rude,’ Bridie piped up. ‘You weren’t reared to whisper, Maisie Bean.’

‘Sorry, Ma.’ She raised her voice. ‘He’s going to nip in for his tea later.’

‘Who is?’ Bridie asked.

‘Fred Brennan, Ma.’

‘The fella who hung himself?’ She looked as confused as she sounded.

‘No, Ma, Detective Brennan, remember?’

‘Oh.’ Bridie screwed up her face. ‘I don’t like that man.’

‘Yes, you do,’ Maisie said. ‘You’ve always liked him.’

‘I do not, young lady,’ Bridie said.

‘She thought he was the bee’s knees,’ Maisie told Lynn.

‘It’s just the disease. It can do that. She doesn’t mean it.’ Lynn patted Bridie’s hand.

‘It is not,’ Bridie said, clasping Lynn’s fingers. ‘He’s trouble. Just stay away from him.’

‘Maybe this is a bad idea. It’s too soon. I got carried away,’ Maisie said. What was I thinking about, inviting him to the house?

Lynn moved her hand from Bridie’s to Maisie’s. ‘Listen to me. Fred Brennan is a good man who has taken care of you for years. You like him, I know you do, and if this is your idea of fast I’d hate to hear your version of slow.’

‘What about the kids?’

‘They’ll be happy because their ma will be happy. Don’t be a bleedin’ martyr, Maisie. It doesn’t suit you.’

Maisie could always count on Lynn to cut through the bullshit and say it how it was. She felt a rush of affection for her friend. ‘Life’s too short.’

‘Exactly. Life is for the living.’

‘Right, then. I’d better get Ma home for a nap.’

‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’ Lynn kissed Bridie’s cheek. To Maisie she added, ‘You’d better phone me later tonight. I want every last detail.’

‘We’ll see.’

‘Delighted. That’s made my day. Finally, a bit of action!’

She was so genuinely pleased for her that just before Maisie left she leaned down to Lynn and whispered, ‘Best kiss ever.’

When Maisie answered the door to Fred he was holding flowers. He handed them to her and kissed her cheek. ‘Hello, beautiful.’

‘You shouldn’t have,’ Maisie said, feeling slightly awkward. She wasn’t used to receiving gifts.

‘They’re only from the garage. I needed petrol anyway.’ Fred followed her down the hall.

‘They’re lovely.’

Bridie was sitting in the kitchen and looked up warily at Fred as his broad frame filled the room.

‘Hello, Bridie,’ he said a little nervously.