A guy with a ponytail and Eighties Levi’s jeans headed across and said to our new friend, ‘All right, Bobby.’ Bobby tipped his head in response.

‘Tourists?’ Bobby asked us, eventually.

I nodded.

Patrick said, ‘Yes, sir. Just here the week, but we’ll be back. Won’t we, Annie?’

I smiled and nodded. ‘It’s been really special,’ I said.

‘Look at you two,’ Bobby observed. ‘I remember being in the honeymoon phase with my Rosie. Couldn’t take my eyes off her for forty-five years. Just like you.’

I opened my mouth to explain, but Patrick gently rested a hand on my arm. I waited for him to pull away, but he didn’t.

‘Sounds as though you were very much in love,’ Patrick said, and Bobby nodded.

‘Best woman you’ve ever met,’ he said. ‘She passed ten years ago this Christmas.’

Patrick let that sink in. ‘You still talk to her?’ he asked, as if it was a totally normal question. That got Bobby’s attention.

‘In the house I do,’ he said. ‘She’s near me, I know that much. Listening. I hear her voice in my head all the time, reminding me to water her garden, telling me to get my saggy arse out of the house and down to the pub or to call our sons.’

‘Yeah,’ said Patrick. ‘Looking after you. I know what that’s like.’

Bobby looked at him crookedly, and then down at Patrick’s hand. He shifted and looked at my hand, and I realized he was looking for our wedding bands. I could see the understanding reach his face.

‘Still,’ said Bobby. ‘We had a good run. I never found anyone else, but I tell you now, if I was lucky enough to, I would’ve jumped at the chance. We’re built to be part of two, aren’t we? Doesn’t mean we love the one who has gone any less.’

Patrick didn’t say anything to that, and neither did I. Bobby stood up, wobbling on his feet, and Patrick handed me his ginger beer so he could help.

‘Enjoy the music, won’t you? Maybe I’ll see you later on.’ He winked at me. ‘Might try and get you for a dance,’ he teased, and I smiled.

‘Deal,’ I told him. ‘See you later.’

We both watched him wobble away and, after he turned a corner and issued a wave, I said to Patrick without looking at him, ‘You okay?’

‘I think so,’ came his reply.

I knew not to push it.

23

Bobby was right: the town knew how to put on a show. The square had transformed right before our eyes, filled now with locals who’d come out to listen to band after band as they danced and waved at each other and switched partners easily because everyone knew who everyone else was.