Finding him at the bar later, I tried a little old-fashioned flirtation; after all, there had been a time when he'd found me irresistible. I sidled up to him and casually suggested we take a walk outside. I knew he was very drunk, drunker than I'd ever seen him. He looked at me straight on, almost as if he wasn't quite sure who I was, and said he was sorry the wedding had turned out this way. He said he hadn't meant it to be like this.

'It's fine,' I said to him. 'The wedding is fine. It doesn't matter. But I wish you'd tell me what the h.e.l.l is the matter with you.'

'There's nothing the matter with me,' he said. 'Nothing at all. Everything's fine.'

He seemed to sway gently between me and the bar. Then he added, 'I think I'll go to bed now. You stay and enjoy the rest of the wedding.'

It was so unlike Keith that I didn't know what to do. I had never had to take care of him before; it had always been the other way round. I was almost tempted to ask his mother for advice but that would have been wrong for several reasons. So, I took his hand and guided him up the stairs to our room. He fell in through the door and slumped across the bed. I took off his shoes and tie and loosened his belt. I squeezed myself in beside him and turned on the television. The late-late movie, Brief Encounter Brief Encounter, was about to begin.

The following morning, despite his hangover, Keith was up and packing the car before I was awake. I wasn't sure whether or not I had a hangover, but I had a knot in my stomach. I decided to skip breakfast and join him. He was waiting for me.

'Are you ready to head, so,' he said, without catching my eye.

'Yeah, I'm ready. Do you want to say goodbye first?'

'I don't want to see anybody.'

'What about your parents?'

'Look, Kate, I'd really just like to get going.'

'OK.'

I got in beside him, and before I had my belt on he had backed out of his s.p.a.ce without checking his mirror and was heading out of the car park at twice the speed limit... This was not like Keith. In fact, nothing would ever be like Keith again.

It wasn't until we were back in my flat that he told me. He emerged from the bedroom having carefully placed my bags by the bed; his own he had left in the car. He was ashen. I don't know why I was quite so unprepared for what came next. Surely I knew that things weren't right between us. Or maybe, as Keith suggested later, my mind had been occupied elsewhere. He walked to the couch and sat down. He put his head into his hands and, for a moment, he was crying. I sat beside him and put my arms round him. He didn't resist. He steadied himself. Then he sighed deeply and took my hands in his. 'It's not going to work,' he said.

'What do you mean?' I asked.

'We can't get married.'

'What do you mean?' I said again, thinking that perhaps he had lost his job or something, and thought we couldn't afford to get married. I was all prepared to a.s.sure him that we could work it out; we could get married without a wedding it was all unnecessary expense anyway, as his mother had said. It even occurred to me that that was why he had been in such bad form at his cousin's wedding he was afraid he wouldn't be able to do the same for me. I had it all worked out in my head.

But that wasn't it.

He looked straight into my eyes, just as he had when he'd asked me to marry him a few months earlier, and he said that I was the most gorgeous creature he had ever known. He said that he loved me more than anything in the world and that he probably always would, but he couldn't marry me.

I was afraid. What had he heard? Who had been saying things? What exactly did he mean?

'Why?' was all I managed.

'Because you don't love me.'

My only impulse was to deny.

'I do love you! I do love you!' I said, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him. 'I do love you,' I repeated. 'Why do you think I don't?'

He got up and walked over to the window. With the light behind him, his features were slightly blurred, which added to the sensation that this wasn't the Keith I knew, that somehow my Keith had been switched with a Keith who was breaking all the rules.

'You've never really loved me,' he said. 'I've always known that. I'm not a fool.'

'That's not true, Keith. I do love you. Stop saying that.'

'Oh, you probably think you do, and maybe you do in a way, but you don't love me enough for for ever.'

'Don't be ridiculous,' I said, speaking far too quickly. 'What's for ever anyway? n.o.body knows if anything will last for ever. You just have to go with it and hope for the best. You said you love me, you have to believe I love you too.'

I stopped. There were so many things wrong with this conversation. 'Where did all this come from, anyway?' I asked.

'It's been coming for a while. You must have known it. I thought for ages that it didn't matter, that you'd eventually love me in the same way, or that it didn't matter as long as we were married. But it does matter. It matters a lot.'

I felt powerless. I couldn't deny that much of what he was saying was true, but I'd had no idea that he'd thought so too. And why now, when I was doing everything to try to make it work, was he so positive that it wouldn't?

I joined him at the window. He was leaning against the sill, his pose almost casual as if there was nothing more bothering him than what he would have for his tea. 'What's changed, Keith? Something has to make you think this way.'

For a while he didn't say anything. He seemed to be reflecting on what he was going to say next, or on exactly how he would put it.

'Look, Kate, I nearly got married before, but I didn't because I didn't believe I was in love. And I was right. But with you... with you, I was so caught up that I didn't even notice you weren't in love with me. And it breaks my heart to do this... believe me.' He kept his eyes fixed ahead of him as he spoke.

I didn't believe he was serious. He could still be persuaded There was no need to ruin everything just because he was having a few doubts. 'Then why do it? We have as good a chance of being happy as anybody else. We're friends, we care about each other, we've been very happy together. I know I'm a bit flighty at times, but I'm settling down. You've helped me to settle down.'

'No. You're not settling down,' he said, swinging round to face me so that his mouth was only inches from mine. 'You're about to go back to college. You're going to have new experiences, meet new people. You're going to want to do crazy things...'

'Is that it?' I asked him. 'Is that what you're worried about? That I'll meet some twenty-year-old and want to run away with him?'

'No. Maybe. No.'

'What exactly are you saying?'

He walked away. He was practically striding. He walked across the room several times before he settled on the couch. His face was red and his temples were throbbing visibly. 'Kate, I don't know if you fully realize this, but not only are you not in love with me you are in love with somebody else.'

It was as if he had reached out and struck me across the face. How could he say that? How could he know it? But the worst of it was that he was wrong. Could it really be that that man was still ruining my life? I knelt beside him and, with my two hands, made him look at me.

'You're wrong,' I said. 'That's over. It's absolutely over. I care nothing for him. When he was creeping round here over the summer I sent him packing. I felt nothing for him. I know I should have told you everything from the beginning but I couldn't bear it. I was ashamed... Who told you, anyway?'

He was silent for what seemed like eternity. When he spoke it was as if he had just worked out a difficult problem in trigonometry. 'Oh, you mean Daniel O'Hanlon,' he said, smiling crookedly. 'I've known about Daniel O'Hanlon since the first night I met you. One of your work colleagues let me in on the secret. I'm not talking about him him.'

I was mystified. He'd known about Daniel all along? Why had he never said anything? What must he think of me? But, more importantly, if he wasn't talking about Daniel, who was he talking about?

'Keith,' I said, 'you're confusing me. What are you talking about? I'm not in love with anybody else.'

He sighed, as if he really didn't want to have to spell it out for me. He was looking at me with a mixture of incredulity and annoyance. 'Your precious brother-in-law,' he spat out. 'Or I should say your ex-brother-in-law.'

'Mike?' I said. 'You think I love Mike?'

'Yes,' he said, rather sarcastically. 'I think you love Mike. And I think he f.u.c.king loves you back, so if you don't mind, I'd really rather not be in the middle of all that.'

I didn't know what to say. I didn't think anything I could say would be appropriate. But I couldn't help realizing that what he had said filled me with such excitement that I was in danger of forgetting I was in the middle of a break-up with my fiance.

He was pacing again. My cheap beige carpet was beginning to show the wear.

'Do you deny it?' he asked, pausing at the window again.

I didn't know what to say. How could I say to Keith that he had articulated the one thing I'd been longing to hear for months? Whatever about my own feelings, whatever about the things I'd been too frightened to acknowledge to myself, if Keith could say he thought Mike loved me, then maybe, just maybe, it was true. How could I say to Keith that he was right, that, yes, I was wholly and utterly in love with my ex-brother-in-law despite the several reasons that suggested it was a bad idea? It was the truth and it was wonderful to hear it. How could I say to Keith that I agreed wholeheartedly we couldn't get married? That I was was in love with another man and it was no basis on which to start a marriage? in love with another man and it was no basis on which to start a marriage?

'It just crept up on me,' was all I managed.

'Yeah?' He sounded bored.

'I've known him practically all my life. I never thought I was in love with him. But lately... yeah... I might have changed the way I think of him. But I was never going to do anything about it. You must believe me, Keith. I was genuine when I said I thought we could be happy. And I have no idea what he feels. I was never going to pursue it. You do believe me?'

'I don't think you've been having an affair behind my back, if that's what you're worried about.'

'I would never do that... I...' I didn't want to continue that line of thought but there was one thing I had to find out. 'Keith, how did you know?'

'I've seen the way he looks at you.'

'But I I've never '

He stood up in front of me and waved his arms about. 'Look, Kate, I don't want to become your therapist. I'm gutted enough that it's not me who keeps you awake nights without having to a.n.a.lyse how you fell in love with your architect friend. I don't know what it was. Maybe that you never stop talking about him. Or that your face lights up the minute his name is mentioned. Or that you go running to him when you want advice on changing your career, or cooking your dinner parties. I don't know, Kate... I just know it isn't me.'

I was silent. I had been told that my fiance had observed me falling in love with the recently deserted husband of my eldest sister. I had a lot to think about. Perhaps I hadn't behaved very well. If you allow impossible thoughts to fester they can only do damage. Whatever about me, I would survive, but Keith wasn't in a good position. And it was my fault. I was a horrible person.

He went into the kitchenette and, in a few minutes, I could hear the kettle boiling. 'You're out of milk,' he said. 'I'll go and get some.'

'OK,' I said.

It was a bizarre situation. As break-ups go, it would have to rank as one of the most amicable. Apart from raising his voice the odd time, there was little other indication that Keith was mad at me. And the oddest thing was that at this minute I felt a huge affection for him. He had delivered me from my agony. He had done what I hadn't had the guts to do and I was grateful to him. He knew I would have married him, he knew I would have tried, but he also knew, better than I did, that it couldn't have worked. No matter how hard you try, you can't pretend you're not in love with someone, even if that love is inappropriate. Keith was stronger and braver than I could ever be. I admired him, I was full of affection for him, but I was not in love with him. I never had been. I think I was in love with the idea of myself with him balanced, relaxed, together but you can't rely on someone else to turn you into something you're not. Even if I was to remain a mess for the rest of my life, at least now I wouldn't bring him down with me.

I heard the door open and he was in the kitchenette again, making tea. I followed him in.

'I'm really sorry, you know.'

'I know.'

'I didn't plan it or even really know it was happening, I... I'm sorry.'

'It's OK. It's one of those things.'

'You're an amazing person, you know, you deserve so much better than me, and you '

'Let me stop you there, Kate, before you tell me there's somebody equally wonderful out there for me. It's OK. I'll get over it.'

Despite the steely sarcasm of his tone, I knew he was right: he didn't need me to tell him anything. He handed me a mug of tea. 'I'm going to pack my things and then I'll go.'

'There's no hurry.'

He slid past without touching me.

Two minutes later he was standing in the middle of the living room, a carry-all bag in either hand. I walked towards him. I handed him back his ring. He wasn't going to take it, but I insisted. He dropped the bags and wrapped his arms round me. Our cheeks touched and our tears mingled.

'Look after yourself,' he said.

'You too.'

And then he was gone.

15.

So, as I sat in my empty apartment, I had a lot to think about. To say I was in a depression was to put it far too strongly. I don't think my nature is capable of truly sustained melancholy, but life was nowhere near normal. I knew I didn't deserve sympathy, that a good horsewhipping was probably in order. Yet I missed Keith. Not in the sense that I wished we hadn't broken up, but I missed his company, I missed the solidity he lent to my life. There was a s.p.a.ce he used to occupy and now it was empty. But something was dawning on me. I had finally realized that I couldn't keep throwing myself from one man to another without giving any thought to suitability or consequences. I was nearly thirty, for G.o.d's sake. Most people my age were in stable relationships or, at least, they weren't doing everything they could to sabotage their chances of one. Colette was the same age as me and she had two children. n.o.body I knew was as determined to be a mess as I was.

The sadness I felt at losing Keith was deepening and the excitement I had felt at the possibility of something happening with Mike had subsided. It was crazy even to think it. Jean might be easy-going and liberal about their break-up, and about his seeing other women, but she wasn't going to be that that liberal. As Marion said, she doesn't like sharing. And I had no reason to believe that Mike thought of me as anything other than his ex-wife's rather silly sister. Sure, Keith had said he thought there was something there, but I could hardly press him for details. And, yes, there had been that fantastic afternoon in my apartment. But I wonder now if I'd imagined it all; I'd lodged myself in a warp bubble where Mike was mine. Yet he had seemed happy to be there. And then there was the way he'd kissed me goodbye. In all the years that Mike and I have been giving each other friendly kisses and comradely hugs, there had never been the kind of electricity that had pervaded our semi-kiss that afternoon. And it hadn't only come from me. I knew he'd always liked me, always looked out for me, but I also knew that that was a million miles away from the kind of thing I'd been contemplating. There was nothing for it. I'd just have to get dressed, go out, buy food and face the rest of my life as it was. liberal. As Marion said, she doesn't like sharing. And I had no reason to believe that Mike thought of me as anything other than his ex-wife's rather silly sister. Sure, Keith had said he thought there was something there, but I could hardly press him for details. And, yes, there had been that fantastic afternoon in my apartment. But I wonder now if I'd imagined it all; I'd lodged myself in a warp bubble where Mike was mine. Yet he had seemed happy to be there. And then there was the way he'd kissed me goodbye. In all the years that Mike and I have been giving each other friendly kisses and comradely hugs, there had never been the kind of electricity that had pervaded our semi-kiss that afternoon. And it hadn't only come from me. I knew he'd always liked me, always looked out for me, but I also knew that that was a million miles away from the kind of thing I'd been contemplating. There was nothing for it. I'd just have to get dressed, go out, buy food and face the rest of my life as it was.

I hadn't said anything to anybody else. I wasn't ready to explain, especially when I didn't have a good story ready. Everybody knew Keith was too good for it to have been his fault so it had to have been mine, and I wasn't up to being the bad guy again. I needed to be alone for a while to straighten out my head.

It was just as well that everybody was preoccupied with their own lives. Lucy and Iris were busy babying up; they had seen the obstetrician and been to the first ante-natal cla.s.s. They were shopping for minuscule vests and painting a nursery; they were busy being in love. Jean's time was taken up with her new flat, and Marion and Ruth had been co-opted by Mum to help organize everything for Anna's visit. I didn't have the energy for a big family thing, in particular a hullabaloo for a sister I hardly ever see and don't know all that well anyway.

I think my reluctance to come out of hibernation might have been due partly to fear of b.u.mping into Mike. I didn't know what might happen and since I had decided that nothing should happen it was better that I didn't see him. There was no reason for us ever to see each other any more. We had nothing to do with each other now. Sure, he would be at the big party, but it would be a big party and I might not b.u.mp into him all evening. And even if I did we would not be alone. And if I could get over one or two meetings like that, I could work out a way to meet him occasionally and not make a fool of myself. We had agreed that we would remain friends despite everything, but he'd probably rather move on, get a new girlfriend with a new silly sister in tow. He would forget. He probably had a new girlfriend already. She was probably gorgeous and intelligent and totally together. He was probably falling in love with her this very minute No. I wouldn't torture myself any longer.

I'd get dressed this minute and go down to Dunnes to do a big shop. I'd buy fruit and veg, eggs and yoghurt, red meat, fish, wholemeal brown bread and maybe just one bottle of wine or maybe just two, a red and a white, because I didn't know what kind of a mood I'd be in later. Tomorrow I'd do something about my hair and I'd buy a new lipstick and eye-shadow: I needed a new look. Then I would buy something to wear at the party, something to empower me and make me feel like I hadn't just been dumped by my fiance and that I wasn't hopelessly in love with a man I could never have.

Yes, tomorrow I'd do that.

As the day of the party approached I was feeling a bit more together. I had called Colette and asked her to come over. I needed to talk to somebody and for the moment I had to keep my troubles outside the family. She arrived with a bottle of Australian Chardonnay and a tub of Pringles the best the petrol station had to offer. It didn't matter: she had other charms.

I told her everything. I started with the break-up and worked backwards to my emerging feelings for Mike. I tried to pinpoint when I'd started to think about him differently but it had happened so slowly I couldn't be sure. I've always felt territorial about him he might have been married to Jean but I was his best friend. I could say anything I liked to him, and while he might scold me and pretend to be horrified, he'd never let me down. Colette reminded me that I'd had a crush on him when he'd first started going out with Jean and suggested that maybe those feelings had never gone away, just been suppressed.

'While he was still married to Jean you didn't mind because you believed he preferred you anyway,' she mused, 'but once there arose the possibility of him being with another woman those subconscious feelings resurfaced. Jean was never a threat but if Mike went outside the family he really was lost to you.'

I didn't like her pop-psychology take on it but I still wanted her to use her skills to determine whether or not Mike felt the same way. She was no help.

'There's no way to tell,' she said. 'There's nothing to suggest he's anything other than brotherly from past behaviour, and I'm sorry to say that your testimony of recent behaviour is unreliable.'

'Who died and made you a lawyer?' I asked her, rather crossly.

'Oh, come on,' she said, 'what do you want me to say? "Yes, I think he's been in love with you all these years and he was only waiting for his wife, your sister your sister, to leave, so that he could make his move?"'

'All right, all right.'

'Look, Kate, you've got to stop this. It's not doing you any good. And... well, none of it matters because it can't go anywhere.'

'I know.'