'I shouldn't have gone there!' Robbie exclaimed. 'I feel a valium moment coming on.' Any excuse. He was always popping valium, librium and beta-blockers, for his 'nerves'.

'D'you want one?' he asked Mrs Morley. 'I've had three already today.'

Her eyes gleamed. 'I suppose it couldn't do any harm.'

Then she spent the rest of the day lurching around like a zombie, banging into desks, catching her fingers in the keyboard, while Robbie had built up such a tolerance he was blithely unaffected.

Meanwhile, Ashling was nearly as stunned as Mrs Morley. Robbie's question had knocked her for six and she couldn't stop thinking about Jack Devine. Her heart swelled up like a balloon as she thought about his narkiness and his kindness, his crumpled suits and his sharp mind, his hard bargains and his soft heart, his high-powered job and his missing button.

He'd washed her hair when he didn't have time. He'd treated Boo, a piece of human detritus, as the person he actually was. He'd refused to sack Honey Monster Shauna after she'd mistakenly included an extra zero in Gaelic Knitting Gaelic Knitting and people ended up knitting christening shawls that were seventeen feet long instead of three. and people ended up knitting christening shawls that were seventeen feet long instead of three.

Robbie's right, she realized. I would ride Jack Devine as soon as look at him I would ride Jack Devine as soon as look at him.

'Ashling!' Lisa cut in irritably. 'For the fifth time, this intro is too naffing long! What is wrong with wrong with you? Have you been dipping into the valium too?' you? Have you been dipping into the valium too?'

They both automatically looked at Mrs Morley, who was slumped on a chair, dreamily painting her thumb-nail with Tippex.

'No.'

Lisa sighed. She should be kinder. Ashling hadn't been like this for ages, not since the first few weeks after Marcus had left her. Perhaps she'd just found out something new and unpleasant like Clodagh being up the duff. 'Has something happened with Marcus and your mate?'

Ashling made herself focus on something other than Jack Devine. 'Actually, yes. Marcus is knobbing someone else.'

'That comes as no surprise,' Lisa said scornfully. 'You know that type of man.'

Lisa had the ability to make Ashling feel very gauche.

'What kind of man?'

'You know not a bad bloke but insecure. Addicted to being loved, but only reasonably good-looking.' Blimey, she was was being polite. 'Suddenly women like him because he's famous and he's like a child let loose in a candy-store.' being polite. 'Suddenly women like him because he's famous and he's like a child let loose in a candy-store.'

But these words of wisdom did little to snap Ashling back to alertness. If anything, they had the opposite effect. She seemed to slide further away from the world and mumbled, 'Oh, my good God,' in a startled kind of way. Then her face cleared.

'Revelations are like buses, aren't they?' she asked in wonder. 'None for ages, then several come at once.'

Lisa gave a smothered scream, and swung away.

Meanwhile, Ashling fidgeted wildly until it was time to leave work and meet Joy. She wanted to share her mind-blowing insights. Well, one of them anyway. The other would have to wait until she'd made sense of it herself.

The minute Joy arrived at the bar in the Morrison, she was subjected to a hail of words from Ashling.

'... Even if Marcus hadn't met Clodagh he would still have done a legger sooner or later, he's too insecure and needy and I should have seen the signs.'

'Oh. And they were?' Joy was tugging off her coat and doing her best to rally.

'I knew he'd given a Bellez-moi note to another girl. Tell me, what kind of man goes around handing out his phone number? If he's interested in you, he asks for your number, right? Instead of trawling for... for... what's the word? A positive reaction, I suppose, by giving out his number and seeing who'll bite.'

'Anything else?'

'Yes, I gave him my number twice and he didn't ring the first time. It's clear now he was playing some sort of game. Seeing if I liked him enough to give him the number. He wasn't really interested in me he was interested in what I thought of him. It was only when I went to his gig that he deigned to ring me.

'And when I wouldn't sleep with him the first night. Sulky or what! Such a baby. And all that "Am I the best?... Who's the funniest of them all?" And you know something else, Joy? I wasn't exactly without sin, either. Part of the reason I went out with him was because he was famous. So if it backfired, I've only got myself to blame.'

'But you're making it sound like a total disaster,' Joy objected. 'You both got on really well. I know you liked him and you could see how much he liked you.'

'He liked me,' Ashling admitted. 'I know he did, but he liked himself more. And I liked him but for partly the wrong reasons.' Quietly she admitted, 'Clodagh said I was a victim.'

'Bitch!'

'No, I am. Or rather, was was,' she corrected. 'Not any more.'

'But just because it's all down to Marcus being insecure doesn't mean you're going to be friends with Clodagh again?' Joy asked anxiously. 'You still hate her, don't you?'

A short, sharp throb of loss had to peak and disperse before Ashling was able to shrug, 'Of course.'

63.

On Valentine's Day a big, impressive envelope skittered from the letter-box into Lisa's hall. A card? Who from? Her blood racing with excitement she ripped open the envelope, then faltered... Oh.

It was notification of her decree nisi.

She wanted to laugh, but couldn't quite pull it off. The speed with which it had been dispatched by the courts to her solicitor had caught her right out. It had taken just over two months and in her subconscious she'd been sure it would be at least three.

With panicky clarity she realized that she and Oliver were on the home stretch. The way was free and, straight down the track, she saw the end of her marriage rushing towards her.

Only six short weeks to go before the final decree was issued.

Then she'd feel better. Closure and all that. she'd feel better. Closure and all that.

That night she went out with Dylan. He'd been asking her out for the last couple of months every time he came into the office to see Ashling and she thought it might cheer her up. Especially as she'd heard not a syllable from Oliver.

Dylan collected her after work and drove her to a pub in the Dublin Mountains, where the lights of the city were arrayed below them, twinkling like jewels. She awarded him top marks for location. He also scored seven out of ten for nice hair and eight out of ten for good looks. And technically, he was very charming and full of observant compliments, so he got seven or eight for that. But she couldn't warm to him, she found him smooth and hard and beneath his gallant conversation she detected a jaundiced cynicism that would put hers to shame.

Or maybe the problem stemmed from her. She couldn't shake off the residue of loss that had shrouded her all day.

She drank a lot, but couldn't get drunk, and the encounter, far from lifting her spirits, only served to depress her. And when Dylan made it very clear how much he wanted to sleep with her, it depressed her even further.

She mumbled something about not being 'that kind of girl'.

'Oh, really?' Dylan quirked his mouth in a manner that conveyed both regret and contempt, and all of a sudden, she wanted to be at home.

In silence, Dylan drove her back to the city, screeching too quickly along narrow mountain roads.

Outside her house she managed to politely thank him, but couldn't get out of his car fast enough. Once in the sanctuary of her kitchen she ate a walnut whip (she was on a 'W' diet and had found a loophole) and wondered, what was the world coming to when even one-night-stands no longer held appeal?

Sitting down, Clodagh crossed her legs and agitatedly bounced up and down on the ball of her foot. Dylan had taken the kids out for the afternoon and was due back any minute, and though he didn't know it yet, they were going to talk talk.

Every time they met, things were civil but unpleasant. He was bitter and she was defensive, but all that was about to change.

How could she ever have thought that Marcus would do? Dylan was wonderful: wonderful: patient, kind, generous, devoted, hard-working, patient, kind, generous, devoted, hard-working, much much more attractive. She wanted her old life back. But she expected a certain amount of rancour and resistance from Dylan and she wasn't looking forward to having to eat humble pie to win him over. more attractive. She wanted her old life back. But she expected a certain amount of rancour and resistance from Dylan and she wasn't looking forward to having to eat humble pie to win him over.

A racket of childish voices at the front-door indicated that they were back. She hurried to let them in, and gave Dylan a friendly smile which fell on stony ground.

'Could I have a quick chat with you?' She forced her voice to remain bright.

When he shrugged a flinty 'All right,' she put Craig and Molly in front of a video, closed the door and came into the kitchen where Dylan was waiting.

She swallowed hard. 'Dylan, these past months... I was wrong, I'm very sorry. I still love you and I'd like you to ' she choked, 'I'd like you to come home.'

She watched his face and waited for the golden light of happiness to wash over it and cleanse away the glittery hardness that had taken up residence there since all this started. He gazed at her incredulously.

'I know it'll take a while to get back to normal and for you to trust me again, but we can go for counselling and all,' she promised. 'I was out of my mind to do what I did to you, but we can make everything all right again... Can't we?' she asked, when still he didn't reply.

Eventually he spoke and he said only one word. 'No.'

'No... what?'

'No, I'm not coming back.'

She had not anticipated this. Not in any of her scenarios. 'But why?' She didn't really believe him.

'I just don't want to.'

'But you've been devastated by what I... um... did.'

'Yeah, I thought it was going to kill me,' he agreed thoughtfully. 'But I suppose I must have gotten over it, because now that I think about it, I don't want to be married to you any more.'

She began to shake. This wasn't happening. 'What about the children?'

That got him. 'I love my children.'

Good.

'But I'm not going to get back with you because of them. I can't.'

She was losing. All the power she'd thought she possessed was being revealed as a mere facade. And then something so unlikely as to be almost laughable occurred to her. 'Have you... you haven't... met someone else?'

He laughed unpleasantly. I did that I did that, she thought, suddenly ashamed. I've made him like this.

'I've met lots of someone elses,' he said.

'Do you mean... are you saying... you've slept slept with women?' with women?'

'Well, not much sleeping gets done.'

She belly-flopped, feeling betrayed, jealous, cheated on. And his knowing, taunty tone roused a horrible suspicion. 'Do I know any of them?'

His smile was cruel. 'Yes.'

Her stomach flopped again. 'Who?'

'What a question to ask a gentleman,' he scorned.

'You said you'd wait for me,' she said quietly.

'Did I? So, I lied.'

It was when Lisa was offered a job by Randolph Media's main rivals that she began to think about her future. In her ten months at Colleen Colleen she'd brought it to where she wanted it in terms of circulation and advertising revenue. It was time to go. she'd brought it to where she wanted it in terms of circulation and advertising revenue. It was time to go.

Already she knew she was going to return to London it was where she belonged and she wanted to be near her mum and dad. But when she considered her options, she realized she wasn't quite sure she had the stomach for editing a monthly glossy any more. Clambering up the greasy pole, humiliating others and taking credit for their work no longer held the appeal it once had. Nor did the vicious rivalry between magazines. Or the savage internecine warfare which existed within the ranks of a title. Once she'd been excited, fuelled even, by such a competitive environment. But not now, and at this realization she experienced panic had she become a weakling, a sap, an also-ran? But she didn't feel weak. Just because there were some things she didn't want to do any more didn't mean she was weak, it just meant she was different.

Not too different, obviously, she acknowledged wryly: she still loved loved the shallowness of magazines. The clothes, the make-up, the relationship advice. So the obvious career move was to look for consultancy work. the shallowness of magazines. The clothes, the make-up, the relationship advice. So the obvious career move was to look for consultancy work.

Something weird was going on, Ashling realized. At first she hadn't noticed, she'd just thought it was an isolated incident. Followed by another isolated incident. Then another. But when does a series of isolated incidents stop being a series of isolated incidents and start becoming a pattern? pattern?

She'd been afraid to read too much into it because she so badly wanted it to mean something. It was Jack Devine. He'd taken her out for a drink to celebrate her coming off Prozac. Then, a week later, when it became clear that she wasn't going to go mad again, he'd taken her for another drink to celebrate that too. Then he'd taken her for a drink followed by a pizza followed by a pizza to celebrate her starting her salsa lessons again. Then he'd taken her for a full-on dinner at Cookes to celebrate Boo moving into his first flat. But when Ashling had suggested that it would be appropriate if Boo joined them, Jack didn't seem at all keen. 'I'm going out for a few pints with him and some of the other lads from the station tomorrow night,' he'd added. to celebrate her starting her salsa lessons again. Then he'd taken her for a full-on dinner at Cookes to celebrate Boo moving into his first flat. But when Ashling had suggested that it would be appropriate if Boo joined them, Jack didn't seem at all keen. 'I'm going out for a few pints with him and some of the other lads from the station tomorrow night,' he'd added.

And now he'd sidled up to her desk and suggested going out again.

'What are we celebrating this time?' she asked suspiciously.

He paused. 'Er, that it's Thursday?'

'OK,' she said. Because it was was Thursday. But she was confused. Why was he being so nice to her? Did he still feel sorry for her after all the drama? But that was in the past. And any other reasons for his attention seemed preposterous. Thursday. But she was confused. Why was he being so nice to her? Did he still feel sorry for her after all the drama? But that was in the past. And any other reasons for his attention seemed preposterous.

It was Lisa who enlightened her.

'So you and Jack have finally got it together?' she said as airily as she could manage. She still wasn't entirely zen about being overlooked, it just wasn't her way and probably never would be.

'I beg your pardon?'

'You and Jack. You like him, don't you?' she teased. 'As in like like him.' him.'

The hot high colour that spilled across Ashling's face was her answer.

'And he likes you,' Lisa pointed out.

'No, he doesn't.'

'Yes, he does.'

'No, he doesn't.'