Chapter 25
ROSIE
Rosie discovered Killian and Isabelle fast asleep in the lounge, each covered with one of the new Avoca rugs.
‘Where’s Laurence?’ whispered Rosie to Grace.
Grace shrugged. ‘No idea.’
Then they heard his voice from the bar area, singing ‘The Fields of Athenry’.
‘I’ll call Nessa,’ said Rosie, picking up her phone and dialling. ‘Ness? The children. They’re still here. What shall we do with them?’
‘For feck’s sake! Jesus! Do I have to do everything here? Didn’t Laurence bring them home? He promised he would come and get them at 9 p.m.’
‘Where are you?’
‘I’m at my book club. I told you. We’ve been…’ She sounded vague for a moment. ‘We’ve been reading books and whatnot. Got carried away… reading.’
Rosie could hear the voice of Nessa’s best friend, Siofra. ‘Ness, pass us the corkscrew… quick, before I die of thirst…’
‘I’ve got to go,’ said Nessa. ‘We have to get on with the next… chapter… Look, will you mind the kids? Please? It will take me ages to get a taxi. And I will kill Laurence in the morning. He’s probably the laziest man on the planet.’
Rosie put the phone down. ‘They can stay at mine,’ she said to Grace. ‘Will you carry one of them?’
Grace gently lifted up Isabelle. ‘Come on, sweetheart,’ she said softly, as Rosie picked up Killian, carrying him like a baby, and they began walking out of the hotel, towards Rosie’s cottage.
‘Where is the nice man?’ asked Isabelle sleepily, as they laid the children down on Rosie’s bed. Rosie would be consigned to the sofa for the night. She didn’t care where she slept, all she wanted was to lie horizontally.
‘He was very nice,’ agreed Killian. ‘He put the blankets over us and told us a story about when he was little.’
‘What was the story about?’ Rosie asked.
‘Oh, magic cows. And a pair of wellies that when you put them on, you’d be invisible.’
‘Did he tell you his name?’
‘Patrick, I think. He said he was a farmer and he used to have a pair of magic wellies.’
Rosie’s heart nearly stopped.
‘I want to be a farmer when I grow up,’ said Isabelle. ‘Or perhaps a dustbin man.’
‘Dustbin girl,’ corrected Killian, his eyes closing. ‘And we had chocolate mousse and trifle on the same plate. And Rosie…’ Killian’s voice was sleepy. ‘Remember you promised to bring us swimming tomorrow?’
‘Yes, you promised,’ said Isabelle, still curled up in Rosie’s bed. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever looked forward to anything more in my life.’
‘Yes,’ said Killian. ‘This wedding has been brilliant so far. So many nice things have happened. And now we’ve got swimming to look forward to and ice creams.’
And he and Isabelle both fell straight back to sleep.
Rosie made herself comfortable on the sofa, unable to sleep, thinking about the day.
She wasn’t going to be able to avoid Patrick because they kept coming across each other, as though fate was bringing them together, as though they weren’t quite done.
But as she lay in the dark, listening to the deep breathing of Isabelle and Killian from the bedroom next door, one day, she knew, she and Patrick Power would no longer have anything to say to each other, and that would be an unbearable one.