Izzy had ended up getting engaged to Sean’s best friend, Mark. But the marriage had never happened – and I didn’t want to think about that, about what had happened to him. Not now.

I sipped my coffee.

‘When do we get to meet him, this new chap?’

‘Not for a bit.’ She gave me a wink, her eyes twinkling. ‘It’s complicated.’

‘There you go, being cryptic again.’

She fingered her necklace, a cloudy green stone surrounded by a crescent moon, rolling the slim leather cord between her fingers.

‘It’s just going to need some careful handling, that’s all.’

‘Is he the shy, retiring type?’

‘Not exactly. There aren’t many of them from my home town.’

‘He’s from Limerick too?’

She nodded. ‘Spooky, isn’t it? How things turn out? Spend half your life abroad and end up seeing someone who grew up a mile from your house.’

I suddenly realised what she meant, my heart dropping into my shoes. Surely she couldn’t possibly be so brazen about it, could she? In front of me, talking to me? But that was Izzy all over – it always had been. She had always been a straight talker, never sugar-coated anything, never compromised, never took the easy path. There are only two mistakes one can make along the road to truth: not going all the way, and not starting. That was her way, her Buddhist faith.

And that’s why she can’t keep a man, Russ had once said in an unkind moment.

I tried to smile along. Just keep smiling. ‘Oh my God, Izzy.’

‘What?’

Keeping my voice level, I said, ‘He’s married, isn’t he?’

Izzy raised an eyebrow, fixing me with a weird look. ‘I couldn’t possibly comment.’

‘But is he?’

‘What makes you think it’s even a he?’

‘Well, your previous boyfriends, for one thing.’

‘This is true.’

‘So: married?’

‘Are you asking that question as an officer of the law?’

‘Of course not. And us CSIs are civilians, anyway. I’m asking as your friend.’

‘Can’t tell you yet. Soon.’

‘Does his wife know?’

She wrinkled her nose. ‘I think there might be . . . suspicions.’

The question that she had never really answered came back to me, pushing its way to the front of my mind.

Why did you come back to the UK, Izzy? Why now?

All of a sudden I was seeing that question in a whole new light.

Before I could decide what to think about Izzy’s revelation, Odette marched up to us with a look of utter determination on her face. She was in a pink sparkly swimming costume, with pink armbands, pink goggles on her head, a pink inflatable ring around her midriff and a blow-up dolphin under her arm. Also pink.

She planted her feet apart, fists on her hips.

‘Right,’ she said, her high voice cutting across our conversation, ‘who wants to go to the beach?’

Chapter 15

15