‘Are you married?’ He didn’t sound very interested.

‘No. Just post-operative.’

He didn’t think that was particularly funny.

‘We were so happy,’ he told her. ‘I never realised that such happiness was possible. It is something quite extraordinary, you know.’

‘Yes, I’m sure it is.’

‘I never thought anything like that could happen. I used to pooh pooh at fairytales and then I found I was living in this bubble of … I don’t know how to explain without sounding silly. Insulated, that’s what we were – insulated. Yes. Am I boring you?’

She shook her head.

‘Your coffee will get cold.’

He picked up his mug and held it, both hands circling it. ‘You say you keep travelling. Before I met her, I used to have such dreams of travelling, getting everything out of my system, forgetting …’

‘Forgetting what?’

‘Ireland. All that stuff we’ve been living through. Hateful stuff. Yes, hateful! Perhaps, I thought once, I will never come back. I will become another person in some other country and when anyone asks me where I come from, I will be able to say another name. Not Northern Ireland – Ulster – call it what you will. I would be able to pretend that that place had nothing to do with me. I could feel clean. I really wanted to feel clean.’ He ducked his head and took a sip of coffee.

He’s definitely a bit crazy, thought Clara.

‘But.’

The word hung in the air between them. He took another drink. He looked at her, wondering what he should tell her.

Why should I tell her anything?

I could just go now; collect the dog and go.

I could leave my half-drunk coffee on the table. Walk out.

Yeah.

‘Why clean?’ she asked then.

‘I haven’t ever felt clean. I grew up feeling – oh, I don’t know, if not dirty, certainly polluted.’

She scratched at the end of her nose with a finger and sighed.

‘So?’ she said.

‘What do you mean, so?’

‘I mean, you’ve started a story, so get on with it. You were there, somewhere up there, feeling dirty and then you said “But.” But?’

‘I met Caitlin.’

‘Dancing?’

She held out her hands towards him and smiled. The lights twirled, flashed, burst in cornucopias of colour.

‘I don’t dance.’

‘Don’t be silly. Everyone can dance.’ She took his hand and pulled him into the music. ‘You just wiggle your feet. Wiggle your body. Listen to the beat. Any fool can dance. You don’t have to dance well, but at least try.’

‘Well?’

‘Well, things were different after that.’

‘Love at first sight.’

He laughed.

‘I suppose so. Is that foolish?’

‘It’s as good a way as any.’

‘She had just left art college. I had led a very sheltered life – very boring, you might call it. I had never met anyone like her, with her energy, her love for being alive. And for some reason that I will never be able to work out, she liked me too.’