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Dublin. Anna had arranged that a local woman make fresh soda bread and they had had this with their pâté. Everyone had raved about it. Cilian and Orla played at a distance with the three visiting children. Some of their friends had been staying at an hotel, others had rented a cottage … they all looked with open envy at the ease and comfort which James and Anna had built for themselves. This was balm to Anna and James. They stood and waved in the evening as the last guests drove off, they had cups of tea to get rid of the sleepiness the white wine had spread, and they looked at the clock. James had an iron rule: on the road back at seven. This meant an hour to wash up and tidy and pack the children and themselves – plenty of time.
    They moved around the cottage gathering the bagful of educational toys. They plunged their twelveplates, twelve glasses, twelve forks and twelve knives into the hot soapy water. A rubbish sack was collected, carefully tied up and put in the boot as well. There were no dustmen in this part of heaven, they laughed to each other. Cilian and Orla, sleepy from the day in the sun, were strapped in, the cassette of James Last was at the ready and they faced the road across the country.
    They spent much of it congratulating each other on the cottage. Although they would never have admitted it, even to each other, there were times when they thought it was becoming a bit much for them. But on a day like today when they could see the admiration and the jealousy of the people who sat around in the sunshine, then it was all worth it a hundred times over. They forgot the weekends they had arrived to find pipes burst, roof leaking, ants walking the kitchen floor in their thousands, mice making nests in the window boxes … all that was as nothing. The strings of the Last orchestra thudded and swept in the background.
    James said: ‘Do you know that your father’s having an affair with Ruth O’Donnell, the artist?’
    ‘Dad? Don’t be ridiculous.’
    ‘He is though, I heard it before. I heard it from someone who met them in London, of all places. Wouldn’t you think you’d be safe having it away in London, ten million people, but no, spotted in flagrante.’
    Anna looked around almost automatically to see if the children were asleep. If their grandfather’s adultery was going to be discussed it would not be devant these enfants, she thought.
    ‘I don’t believe a word of it.’
    ‘Honestly, sweetheart, Frances and Tim were talking about it this afternoon. They didn’t like to mention it in front of you.’
    ‘So that’s what you were wittering on about. I thought it was business.’
    ‘No, they tell me they see him often coming out of Ruth’s apartment block, you know.’
    ‘The new one … yes … heavens above.’
    ‘Are you upset, are you upset that I told you?’
    ‘I don’t believe it, not Dad . I mean, he fancies her maybe and goes in and has the odd little drink. But not an affair, not sleeping with her, not Dad.’
    ‘Um.’
    ‘Well, don’t you agree?’
    ‘I don’t know, I only tell you what I hear.’
    ‘You think it’s possible that Dad would have a real affair?’
    ‘That’s what is said.’
    ‘But why would she? I mean she’s young and well known and got her own life … she could have anyone or no one if she wanted. What on earth would she want with Dad?’
    ‘Who knows? People want extraordinary people.’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘You are upset. I shouldn’t have told you like that straight out. It’s just … well, it was on my mind.’
    ‘I’m not upset. I don’t know why. I suppose when I was young like everyone I was always terrified if they had a row that they were going to part. But they didn’t, nobody ever did. Things just go along drifting. That’s what happened to marriages in those days.’
    ‘And in these days, it would appear.’
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘Well, they say that your Papa and Ms O’Donnell have been constant companions for two to