Page 41 of A Second Chance Summer in Dublin

I pick up a bunch of my business cards. Shuffle them like a deck of cards as I listen.

‘He nearly died of a broken heart!’ Amanda implores.

‘Girl! Don’t be stupid, you can’t die from that.’ Kathleen laughs, easily. ‘What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. It’s a fact.’

‘He did everything for her,’ Amanda says. ‘Jesus, he treated that woman like a fuckin’ princess.’

‘And not Diana.’ Belinda wags a finger.

‘No.’ Amanda shakes her head.

‘She should have tried harder,’ Belinda says wistfully. ‘He deserved that much.’

‘People change, Belinda, not everyone changes together like you and Stevo did,’ Kathleen tells her.

‘Right! Let’s go! I’ve a meeting in ten in the IFSC,’ Amanda shouts. ‘And I’m in your car, Denise.’

‘Oh. Hang on. Quickly,’ I cut in. ‘Sorry! I was wondering can I give you each one of my business cards? Maybe you guys can stick one up on your office noticeboards or gyms or yoga studios .?.?. in LA?’ I hold my first card out to Kathleen. ‘Just to say, as I did with you, I can do consultations over Zoom in the late evening here for the time difference.’

Kathleen takes it, nods at me, holds the card squarely in between her bronzed finger and thumb. ‘Lovely card, I’ll defo sing your praises, Grace. I’ll post pictures of my dress on my Insta, too. Reels. Stories. The lot. And I’ll invite you to be a collaborator.’ She looks up at me, dressing at speed.

‘One last thing! Very quick! I do want a photo of the four of us together. I want us all with the dress bags in a line?’ Belinda says, and hands her phone over to me. ‘If you might be so kind as to do the honours, Grace? Then can we get one with you in a selfie?’

‘Let’s do them out on the rooftop. The natural light is gorgeous.’

As they all line up in front of the Dublin-city backdrop, the sun shines down on their happy faces.

‘Smile!’ I command, and swallow the lump in my throat, feeling so proud of myself at a job well done. But will it be my very last?

Chapter Twenty-Two

Tonight’s the night.

I mark the zip placement with my fabric chalk. Opening the zip, I align it with the marked area on the red fabric of my party dress and pin it in place. Attaching the zip foot to the sewing machine, I begin sewing it in. I can’t shake the nervous jitters that are all about me.

Because tonight’s the night.

As arranged before he left my flat, Donal will meet me in M. O’Brien’s at seven o’clock for Mia’s party. It’s now three o’clock, and my nerves are playing havoc. Not about Donal, I am really looking forward to seeing him. If this was a regular drink with Donal, I’d be relaxed and looking forward to a proper tasty, meaty meal and good wine, with funny, easy, two-way conversation. In fact, I’ve wondered far too many times about how he got on with that date I saw him with in Bewley’s. But tonight is all about Logan.

What will I feel?

What will I say?

What will he say?

What will the outcome be?

‘Only one way to find out,’ I say out loud, and finish the zip.

Standing up, I make my way out to my rooftop and look up at the loud, high-flying jumbo jet, leaving a long white trail above me, in the cloudless blue sky. Then I look over at Logan’s well-faded Rolling Stones T-shirt draped over the old crate to dry inthe sun.

Shutting my eyes momentarily, I hold my face up to the bright light. This incessant heatwave isn’t letting up and it’s all anyone can talk about – the news stations, the newspapers, the postman, every shop assistant. The traffic moves freely with buoyant drivers, windows rolled down, beckoning cars out of slip roads ahead of them, forgiveness given freely to people blocking yellow junction boxes. The pace of Dublin life has slowed dramatically in the unrelenting heat. The outdoor areas of bars and restaurants are flooded with scantily clad people. My phone rings and it’s a FaceTime from my parents in Bordeaux. I answer the call.

‘Darling!’ Their cheeks are pushed together as they both try to get a good look at me, and the picture is pixelated – they don’t have great internet in their place.

‘Parents!’ My heart soars with love for them both.

‘We tried to call this week, you’re hard to pin down, my darling,’ Mam says, her eyes filled with adoration for me.