on Mike’s doorstep. I knew that when I talked to him things would get complicated. So, for now, I’d indulge myself in the memory of that kiss. I had a shower, put on a pair of old jeans with a new top and set off for the Furze Bush. It would be calm there and no one would bother me.
Autumn had turned back into summer: it was warm and the sun beat down from a clear sky. The weather didn’t suit my mood: I needed the gravitas of rain and a chill in the air. For me, summer was over. I wanted to hasten in the autumn and the changes it would bring. I had turned thirty. Perhaps my extended girlhood was finally at an end and it was time to grow up. I smiled to myself as I walked over the cracked pavements; I had spent the summer talking sternly to myself, and look where it had got me. I was in a bigger mess now than when I had started.
The Furze Bush had its usual breakfast crowd but my favourite table in the corner by the window was empty. I gave my order and sat down. I love to sit there and watch the bustle on the street – it’s very soothing. But that morning I was interrupted even before my coffee had arrived by a grating voice. It was Angela, a former colleague at O’Sullivan and Woulfe.
‘Hello there!’ she said loudly. ‘How are you since you left us? I must say you look great – the lazy life suits you. What have you been up to? Of course – you have your wedding to plan. You must be so busy.’
I had several options for handling this: I could get up and walk away; I could tell her a pack of lies, which she would disseminate gleefully round the office; I could tell her the shocking truth, which she could add to and then disseminate gleefully round the office; or I could just say very little, in the knowledge that she couldn’t shut up for five minutes anyway.
‘Oh, you know,’ I said. ‘Nothing, really.’
‘And how’s Keith?’ she asked. ‘I’m seeing someone myself at the moment. Yes, I’ve been waiting for my Mr Right all this time and then one day he walks straight into the office. He’s the guy they hired to replace you, actually. Of course, he’s a little younger than me, but sure what does that matter? He’s very mature.’
I was relieved to hear they had needed someone to replace me. I’d been convinced that as soon as I left, and there was no discernible difference in the workload, they’d wonder why they’d been paying me all these years.
‘Oh, that’s nice,’ I said.
‘Yes, and he’s good-looking too. He has the whole package!’
‘Great! Well, best of luck with it all.’
‘OK, then,’ she said. ‘I’ll leave you to your coffee. I suppose Keith will be joining you soon and I wouldn’t want to impose. Alan will be here in a minute. I’ll introduce you ‘cos in a way I have you to thank for him.’
‘Great,’ I said again. ‘I look forward to it.’
Angela had always got up my nose: she was one of those girls who have been obsessed all their lives with having a boyfriend, and you know that the main reason they don’t have one is because of their desperation. They reek of it. I wished her the best with whatever greenhorn she’d got her teeth into, but I didn’t think I could hang around to watch them moon over their croissants. So, when she wasn’t looking, I got up and left.
I was on the move again. I thought about ringing Colette but I wasn’t up to arguing with her and I knew she wouldn’t approve. As I was passing the Augustinian church, I stopped and, for a moment, considered going in. They always used to have confession on a Saturday afternoon. When my sisters and I got older and felt our sins were getting a bit close to the bone, we’d come in here on a Saturday rather than confess to the priests who knew us at our parish church. I hadn’t been in years, but I’d never fallen out with the concept of confession. I remember the physical sensation of a weight being lifted after I had unburdened myself of my juvenile crimes. Now, however, it wasn’t a priest’s absolution I needed (even if he would give it): it was Jean’s. I kept on