The last outing they’d taken Mam on was to Greystones. It had been a day like today and the three of them had climbed aboard the Dart, Kevin supporting Mam on one side, her on the other. They’d all enjoyed the scenic train journey along the coast and when they’d gotten off, they’d sat in the beer garden of a pub and admired the blue-green waters rolling in on the pebbly shore. It had been lovely to see the twin spots of pink appear on her mam’s cheeks from the fresh salty air. Kevin was so good with her, she often thought. He never complained when she suggested she join them, understanding how, since she’d become ill, people had stopped inviting her out. Bronagh didn’t like the thought of her being cooped up at home when she was fit enough to venture out.
She glimpsed his familiar figure strolling lazily through the gardens. Kevin was never in a hurry to get anywhere and Bronagh would tease him if he was any more laid back, he’d fall over. She sat up straight and shielding her eyes from the sun, waved out. He raised his hand back but his pace didn’t increase and she waited patiently, beaming up at him as he greeted her before flopping down on the blanket beside her. He leaned over for a kiss, his hair falling into his eyes and she obliged enthusiastically.
‘Happy Birthday,’ Bronagh breathed as they broke apart, her eyes still half closed.
‘And a grand birthday present that kiss was too,’ he grinned. ‘Sorry I’m late. My mam telephoned to wish me happy birthday as I was about to head out the door and the whole tribe took turns singing it down the phone.’
Bronagh could tell he was pleased to have heard from them; she knew how he much he missed his family. ‘Mam says happy birthday too and she’s busy cooking up a storm at home.’ An exaggeration, but she was pleased to see Kevin’s face shine at the thought. He deserved a lovely day, she thought, unable to wait any longer. She reached inside the pocket of her skirt and produced the package. ‘This is for you.’
‘You didn’t have to do this.’ He grinned, but ripped it open in a manner that suggested he was pleased she had. He looked at the box for a moment before opening it and pulling out the solid silver Zippo lighter contained inside. It gleamed in the sun and he admired the weight of it as he held it in the palm of his hand. ‘Bronagh, it’s great.’ His face said it all and she felt a lovely popping like champagne bubbles inside her as he gazed at the side embossed with a Celtic cross. She held her breath waiting for him to turn it over and see what she’d had inscribed on the other side. He did so, reading out loud, ‘For Kevin, Love Bronagh.’ She’d agonised over whether to include the L word; they hadn’t said it to one another as such but in the end, she’d decided to be bold because she was in love with Kevin and she wanted him to know it.
He’d pushed his hair out of his eyes and looked at her as the sun beat down and said, ‘This is the best present I’ve ever been given. I love it and I love you, Bronagh Hanrahan.’
Chapter 19
Rosi pushed the trolley upon which she had two large suitcases stuffed full of yoga pants in small, medium and mostly large. She’d been worried she might get stopped leaving London when her cases had gone through the X-ray machine and the officer in charge had beckoned her aside, asking to see inside them. She’d found herself gabbling her explanation, as she always did when confronted with figures of authority, as to why she had so many pairs of soft, stretchy pants in her possession. She couldn’t get done for smuggling, could she? It wasn’t illegal to carry one hundred pairs of yoga pants into another country was it? Apparently not, because by the time she’d finished the officer was shaking his head trying to understand the relevance of Tupperware and yoga pants as he waved her on through.
Noah and Mr Nibbles were at his grandmother and father’s this weekend. She’d arranged for Colin to pick their son and his gerbil, who’d had a class visit for the day, directly from the school’s gates as she was leaving work a couple of hours early to get her flight. She was fortunate his teacher had allowed Mr Nibbles back in her classroom after the show and tell debacle where he’d escaped and terrorised the principal in the toilets. She was kind-hearted, Noah’s teacher, and Roisin suspected none too fond of the stern head. It was still odd this business of weekend sharing her son with Colin and she doubted she’d ever get used to Noah not being with her all the time but he needed his dad and as for his Granny Quealey, well she was a pain in the arse but she did love him. Surely, the more people in the world who loved your child the better.
Noah normally would’ve had a tantrum of planet-exploding proportions at the notion of missing out on a trip to Dublin to see his beloved aunts and nana but once she’d explained about the party, he’d been happy to take a rain check. It wasn’t a party at all, he’d stated because there wasn’t going to be little red sausages, cake and pop. Roisin
