the bike had spluttered to a halt. Rory had alleged that he could fix it, but that it was too dark to see. Johnny had called him a chancer. He still remembered the way they’d laughed, clear and echoey, in the still night air.
‘There’s a phone box about a mile away,’ Rory had said. ‘We’ll wheel the bike, and ring Dad.’
‘At three in the morning?’ Johnny had never rung Canice for a lift. He never would. Not only would Canice refuse but he’d use it to mock Johnny for having a substandard bike. For coming running to Daddy. Whatever. But Rory had made the call, and about ten minutes later, misty headlights shone through the darkness. Michael pulled alongside them in a small pick-up truck. He was wearing his slippers and an anorak over his pyjamas.
When he got down from the truck, Johnny instinctively stepped back.
‘Pair of eejits,’ Michael said, in a gentle, chuckley way. He hoisted the bike into the back and the three of them climbed into the warm cabin. ‘I hope you weren’t drink-driving the bike,’ Michael said, as he drove off.
Rory would never be that reckless. He was always so good, so law-abiding, that if anyone had deserved to live to be a hundred, it was him.
FIFTY-FIVE
‘Another?’ Garr pointed at Nell’s nearly empty glass.
‘Can’t. Got to go.’
‘Where?’ Triona asked. ‘Your loaded sister-in-law flying you all to Fiji for the weekend?’
‘Stop!’ Nell scolded, even as everyone laughed. ‘It’s a thing. For asylum-seekers. A public meeting. Speeches and, I don’t really know, fundraising, maybe.’
‘Fair play,’ Lorelei said. ‘I wish I was as sound as you.’
‘So no trip to Fiji?’ Triona asked.
‘Would a fancy villa in Tuscany in August do you?’
There was an odd little silence. ‘Tuscany?’ Lorelei wrinkled her nose. ‘No offence, but won’t it be just tons of old people boring on about wine?’
‘Noooo.’ Nell laughed. ‘It’ll be beautiful and sunny. Near to Florence. Me and Liam have tickets for the Uffizi and we might go to Rome another day and, like, art, dude!’
‘You and Liam going to the Uffizi,’ Wanda cooed. ‘I want your life!’
‘But she has to spend a week with her in-laws,’ Triona said.
‘Isn’t it freaky that Nell has in-laws?’
‘Seriously,’ Nell said, ‘they’re cool.’
‘But are they not a bit, like … old?’
Nell laughed. ‘I’m married to an old man! I’m old by association.’
‘Jesus H!’ Wanda said. ‘Liam Casey is so not old.’
Nell accidentally made eye-contact with Garr, then looked away quickly. She didn’t want to talk about Liam and definitely not with Garr there. In many ways, she was closer to Garr than anyone else in the world. He’d never said one less-than-pleasant thing about Liam but she had a niggling suspicion that he wasn’t crazy about him. Age difference? Divergent lifestyles? Maybe he just thought she’d got married too soon. Whatever the reason, she suspected that Garr wouldn’t be one bit surprised that things had gone weird for Nell and Liam. She did not want to go there.
‘Seriously,’ she said. ‘Gotta go.’
‘Will you come out with us again soon?’ Garr asked.
His voice was soft yet pointed, and she was mortified. ‘Yeah, like, course. God, I’m sorry. I miss you. I miss you all. The whole thing with Liam, it was intense there for a while, but I’m back to normal now.’ She wrapped each of them in a tight hug, spending longest on Garr because he was the one she loved the most. ‘Sorry,’ she mouthed into his face. ‘I’ll be a better friend.’
For a moment, she wished she could step back into her old life with them all, where everything had seemed more innocent and much more fun.
‘There she goes! Worthy Nell!’
She got onto her bike and cycled fast, in the hope that she might leave her shitty feelings behind.
She’d had the loneliest, strangest month of her life.
Once again, she’d discovered what they meant by marriage being work.
After what Liam had done with Sammie, she felt horribly disenchanted. Liam had been feeling insecure, he was heartbroken about the girls not coming to Italy – was that enough to absolve him? She wasn’t sure. ‘I didn’t get married so that you could mess around with another girl,’ she’d told him. ‘That’s what boyfriends were for! And I swear to you that if you ever try a stunt like that again, I’m gone.’
They’d had a long, searching talk, in which he’d abased himself with remorse. Enough time had passed so that she had – mostly – forgiven him. It had changed her, though; she