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maybe?” she asked sweetly.
    He shook his head.
    “No, that’s bad enough. He’s no idea how much trouble he’s in. We’re all in as a matter-of-fact,” he said.
    “Come, come Larry. It’ll all look better in the morning, things always do. And anyway, it’s only a film, a bit of nonsense with fast cars, glamorous women and an evil villain.”
    Larry tried to guffaw, it came out as a snort.
    “It’s the evil villain I’m worried about,” Larry said, half to himself.
    Dropping a kiss on his forehead, Miss MacReady shimmered out. As the door closed softly behind her, he was sure he heard a horse whinny in the darkness. He slid quickly beneath the covers. Get a grip Larry, for Chrissakes. This is the west of Ireland, horses everywhere, he told himself.
    Hoping to ease Larry’s passage and warn her loved ones of his impending arrival, Miss MacReady used Joyce’s landline to telephone first Maguire’s and then Weathervane later that morning, surmising correctly that the newly-reunited lovers might, at the very least, be having a lie-in.
    Padar agreed to go and make one of the holiday cottages habitable for the stressed-out American and Miss MacReady assured the landlord she would inform the inhabitants of Weathervane that Larry Leeson, of Leeson & Leeson (New York) Limited was on his way.
    “Sounds like trouble,” Padar said over the crackly line.
    “Well, it’s really none of our business. It’s something for Ryan and Mr Leeson to sort out.” Miss MacReady was snippy.
    Padar smiled as he replaced the receiver. Miss MacReady always knew everybody’s business and was not beyond interfering, particularly when she considered it was in everyone’s best interest. Declaring an issue out of bounds was unusual. It sounded very serious indeed.
    “Are you serious?” Ryan exclaimed into the ancient Bakelite telephone, which sat in defiance of the twenty-first century on the polished mahogany table in the hallway of Weathervane cottage. “Already, he’s here already?”
    “Yes, I was sure he would come, weren’t you?” Miss MacReady.
    “I knew he’d come, but so soon? He hates flying, travelling of any description, I thought it would take him at least a week to work himself up to the trip,” Ryan said.
    “He does seem very worried, alright. Far more stressed than last time and that was bad enough,” she told him.
    “Oh great,” Ryan said, “there’ll be any amount of pleading, coercing and blackmailing to get me back into that contract. I just wish I’d a bit more time to think things through,” he said, more to himself.
    “You mean you haven’t thought this through?” came a voice from, the kitchen.
    “Sorry Kathleen, I’ll have to go, no doubt see you later,” Ryan said, replacing the handset abruptly. Marianne stood in the doorway. She was wearing his sweatshirt, her hair twisted into a pile on top of her head. Arms folded, legs crossed, she was trying not to laugh. Ryan shrugged, giving her his lopsided grin.
    “I did wonder if it was all as simple as you made out. I knew it was a three-movie contract, I’d resigned myself to that.” She smiled at him. It was so lovely to see him standing there, in her hall, having just left her bed.
    “I needed you to know I’d give it all up for you. You and Joey, that’s all I care about,” he said firmly.
    “And baby Bridget and don’t forget Monty,” she said. Monty looked up from his basket, wagging his tail at the mention of his name.
    “Yes, little Bridget and Monty too, I need everyone I love together, in the same place. I need to be putting down roots, getting settled, before it’s too late.” His eyes were boring into her.
    “It’s never too late,” she kissed him on the nose, “and I’m glad you made the grand gesture to be with us, for us all to be together. I love that you did it so boldly, live on TV. But like so many things that appear easy, the devil’s in the detail.” She met his gaze full-on.
    “You’re right,” he