But I wasn't quite ready to turn up 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.

'h.e.l.lo 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 pa.s.sing the Augustinian church, I stopped and, for a moment, considered going in. They always used to have confession on a Sat.u.r.day 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 Sat.u.r.day 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 walking.

I rummaged for my mobile and called her. 'Jean! What are you up to?'

'Recovering. I overdid it last night. What about you? You disappeared early. Get a booty call, did you?'

'Ahm, not exactly. You up for a chat?'

'Sure. Do you want to call over?'

'Would you mind meeting me in town?' I felt it was best to stick to neutral territory.

'Fine. I could do with stretching my legs. Where?'

'What about the cafe bar on Glentworth Street?'

I wanted somewhere she could have a coffee and I could have a drink, and then, if she needed it, she could have a drink too.

'See you there in twenty minutes.'

'Great.'

'Hey,' she said then, 'is everything OK?'

'Sort of. I'll tell you everything.'

'OK. See you in a bit.'

I turned and retraced my steps back up town. I had no idea how I was going to tell her, even less how she might react. At one time Jean had been queen of the hissy fit maybe I'd come to regret doing this in public.

I found a seat near the back of the cafe and ordered a gla.s.s of white wine. There weren't many other customers and n.o.body who looked like they'd be bothered to eavesdrop or get upset by a raised voice. In fact, it was unlikely that the place would remain in business for much longer the majority of its customers were students who brought a book or a newspaper and made one drink last hours. The moneyed working types preferred a bona fide bona fide public house to do their drinking. public house to do their drinking.

The wine was cold and alcoholic. I could feel it shuttle through the centre of my body and radiate into every cell. I hadn't overdone it last night; I had been inebriated on something entirely different, but now I needed a crutch. I'd planned to stop at one gla.s.s but when Jean arrived she ordered one for herself and another for me. 'Hair of the dog. Next week I'm detoxing,' she said.

She settled herself on the chair beside me. 'So,' she said, with an air of open expectation, 'what's the story?'

'First,' I said, possibly in a ploy to gain sympathy, 'Keith broke up with me.'

'What? When?' She was stunned.

I'd got so used to it that I'd forgotten the impact my news would have. 'Ahm, a while ago now. Just after that wedding we went to.'

'What on earth happened?'

'He reckoned I wasn't in love with him.'

'He what what?'

'I'd sort of been having doubts all along. I just hadn't realized he knew about them.'

'But you were happy about it, weren't you? I thought you'd decided it was worth having a shot.'

'Well, I had, but he'd obviously decided otherwise.'

'I can't believe it.' She was shaking her head and swirling her wine.

'I was a little shocked at first. I'd thought if anyone was going to do the breaking up, it would be me. But I'm OK with it now. He was right, it wouldn't have worked. I'd have been restless in no time.'

'But it's tough all the same. You had no idea, had you?'

'No, I hadn't. I hadn't been paying that much attention.'

All of a sudden she put her arms round me. 'Oh, you poor thing. I'm so sorry.' She was even crying a little bit.

'I'm OK, Jean, honestly. It's fine.' I was beginning to feel guilty.

'But you've been keeping it to yourself. Why didn't you tell anyone?'

'There was all the excitement of Anna being home and the party and everything, and I just wasn't up to all the explanations.'

She said nothing for a while, then, 'Don't kill me now, but was there something else?'

I knew what she was hinting at. 'No. Well, not exactly.'

'Kate?' Her tone was only moderately accusatory.

'I didn't cheat on him.' I paused. I didn't know how to put it. 'But there's something else I need to tell you, which you might not be that keen to hear.'

'Yes?'

'Well, at the party last night, something happened.'

'What happened?'

'I kissed Mike. Actually, he kissed me and I kissed him back.' If I talked quickly it wouldn't sound as bad, I thought.

She said nothing.

'Jean, I think I'm in love with him and maybe he is too, only I don't know because I haven't talked to him. I wanted to talk to you first.'

She still said nothing.

'I know it's weird, but I really am crazy about him. But if you say so, I'll never even look at him again.' I certainly hadn't planned on saying that, but suddenly it seemed right.

Eventually she spoke: 'You kissed? Last night at the party?'

'Yeah.'

'And that's all?'

'Oh, yeah, absolutely.'

'Did he say anything to you?'

'No.'

'And it was only that one time?'

'Yeah.' I couldn't read her. She seemed calm, but maybe this was the prelude to a violent eruption.

'How long do you think you've been in love with him?'

'I'm not sure. Over the summer. Since ye broke up.'

'Why?'

'Why... what?' I didn't want to antagonize her but I wasn't sure what she was asking.

'Why him? Why did you fall in love with him? You were supposed to be in love with somebody else.'

'I know... I've always liked him. Maybe when you didn't want him any more, I saw him differently. I don't know. Or perhaps I've always loved him.'

She finished her wine. She sighed. 'I don't believe it,' she said.

'What?'

'I don't f.u.c.king believe it.'

'I'm sorry.'

'There we all are, having birthday parties and engagement parties for you, and all the time you're eyeing up Mike. You're incredible.'

'I wasn't eyeing him up. I didn't even know I was in love with him. At least, not until Keith told me. And I was never going to do anything about it.'

'Until Keith Keith told you?' She was looking at me as if I'd sprouted another head. told you?' She was looking at me as if I'd sprouted another head.

'He seemed more aware of it than I was.'

'So instead of giving you a b.o.l.l.o.c.king, he sent you running into his arms!'

'Well, I suppose he didn't want me if I was in love with someone else.'

'But Mike! Honest to G.o.d, Kate, do you hear yourself? You're saying you're in love with the man I've been married to for the last fifteen years. This isn't just anybody you're talking about.'

'I know, I know it sounds dreadful and, believe me, I was never going to act on it, but last night... I've never felt this way before...'

'Oh, Jesus, Kate, give me a break.'

This wasn't going well. It was only the memory of Mike's lips on mine that kept me from running out and never coming back.

She said nothing more for a while, then: 'So what about Mike? Has he been l.u.s.ting after you all these years?'

'I don't know. I haven't spoken to him.'

'I need another drink.' She got up and went to the bar. My betrayal seemed to be written on her back as she stood there, unmoving, for what felt like an age. When she came back she sat opposite me. 'So, what's your plan now?'

'I don't have one.' I paused. 'But I thought I might go and talk to Mike. If that's OK with you.'

'Oh, f.u.c.k, I don't care. I mean, I left him. I don't want him any more. He can kiss and s.h.a.g whoever he wants.' She gave a disgusted little laugh. 'But did it have to be you?'

'I'm sorry.'

'I always knew he had a soft spot for you, but I'd no idea it went this far.'

There was a coldness in her tone that made me feel sick.

'I might be getting all worked up over nothing. It was only a kiss. He was probably just drunk and h.o.r.n.y.'

'Mike doesn't do drunk and h.o.r.n.y. If he kissed you it was because he meant to.'

I said nothing.